City Wedding (2 page)

Miranda pulled her hand quickly away from the
perfume on the vanity. “Can I try some, Aunt Jess? Please?”

Jessica shook her head at Autumn with a smile
when she would have admonished her daughter. “Sure, sweetie. Let me
do it for you though, okay? You don't want too much at once.”

Miranda handed her the bottle carefully.
“Why?”

“Because you want to be subtle. That's how
perfume works.”

“Or should,” said Autumn.

“Or should,” Jessica agreed. “Not everyone
adheres to that credo.”

“What's 'credo'?” said Miranda.

“A belief.” She carefully dabbed a few drops
on the little girl's wrists. “There. Smell.”

Miranda did – and beamed. “Thank you, Aunt
Jess.”

Jessica kissed her cheek. “You are very
welcome.”

“Seeing you guys looking so pretty makes me
feel even dirtier and grosser,” Megan said, grabbing her shampoo at
last. “I'll be back soon.”

Autumn waited for the bathroom door to close
behind her before turning to Jessica. “Isn't that what she was
wearing last night?”

“Yes.”

“Did she sleep in her clothes?”

“She was out last night.”

Autumn raised an eyebrow. “All night? Who
with?”

“Liam and Josh. I guess they went to hear
some band Liam knew.”

“And they stayed out all night?”

“Megan did. She knew the guys in the band,
and ended up going someplace with them. Ended up sleeping at their
place.”

Autumn raised both eyebrows now.
“
Really
.”

“On their couch, she said.” Jessica smiled.
“Gutter brain.”

“What's gutter brain?” Miranda asked, before
Autumn could answer.

“Just a silly word,” Autumn said, making a
face at Jessica. She continued easily, “Oh, look, Randi. Aunt Jess
didn't eat her leftover cookies from last night.”

Wonderings over a phrase like “gutter brain”
could never hold out against frosted flower cookies. Miranda made a
beeline for the iced confections on the counter. “Can I try some?
Can I try the pink one?”

“You can have the pink one and the purple
one, both,” Jessica told her.

Autumn had just settled Miranda down on the
bed to eat the cookie, napkins covering her dress, when the shower
turned on in the bathroom. She nodded at it. “This is about Liam,”
she said in an undertone to Jessica. “This whole out-all-night
thing.”

“You know that for certain? Has she talked to
you about it?”

“No. But it's pretty freaking obvious if
you're within ten feet of them. The undercurrent...vibe...whatever
you want to call it. Don't tell me you haven't seen it.”

Jessica moved to the coffee pot, opening up
the filter bag. “I've seen it. But neither one of them is talking.
Neither one will admit there's anything going on at all.”

“They don't need to admit it. She's so antsy
around him. So distracted – and trying to act like she's not. And
have you seen the way he looks at her?” She moved to the coffee
pot. “Let me make that. You're supposed to be lounging.”

Jessica laughed, and went to sit on the bed,
brushing crumbs off Miranda's knee. “How does Liam look at
her?”

“He looks...” Autumn thought about it. “He
looks like he's really looking,” she said, after a minute. “He
looks like he doesn't see anything else but her.” She turned to the
coffee, measuring it with a greater meticulousness than was needed.
“It makes me a little jealous, I have to say.” And then she gave a
too-bright smile – one that could have matched Megan's from
earlier. “Maybe Rob and I need a vacation or something. A chance to
recapture the magic or whatever.”

“I'm sure everybody needs that once in a
while,” Jessica said, watching her cousin's face.

“Yeah. Anyway...” Autumn glanced at the
bathroom door and lowered her voice, “I want to know what's going
on with her and Liam.”

“That makes two of us.” She wiped the
lingering icing off Miranda's fingers and stood up to throw away
the napkins.

“I'll see if I can get anything out of Josh.
Maybe...”

“Aunt Jess,” Miranda called from across the
room. “Can I touch your dress?”

Autumn jerked. “Miranda, get your hands away
from there!”

Miranda's face fell. “But, Mommy...”

“It's okay, Autumn.” Jessica turned to the
crestfallen Miranda. “You can touch my dress, Randi. Just be
gentle, sweetie. Okay?”

Miranda brightened immediately. “I will.” She
ran a reverent hand down the silky folds. “It's so pretty,” she
breathed.”

Autumn shook her head with a smile and went
back to her coffee.

Jessica moved to stand beside her. She could
practically see the tension in her cousin's shoulders – like an
iron rod running across. She touched her shoulder – rubbed to
soothe. “Don't worry about her messing with my things. This is an
exciting day. She adds to it.”

“Yeah, well, you won't think that when she
breaks your perfume bottle or gets something on your dress.”

“Her fingers are clean; I wiped them myself.
And there's nothing she can break that can't be replaced – or that
I care about as much as seeing her happy.” She paused. “And you,
too.”

Autumn took a deep breath...gathered herself.
“I think I'm a lot more stressed about today than you are, Jessie.
What's up with that?”

Jessica smiled – and put her arms around
Miranda, who'd come to stand beside her. “I don't have anything to
stress about. I'm surrounded by everybody I love, all day long. I
spend tonight in a luxury suite with Ed. Then tomorrow we leave for
two weeks at the beach. What could possibly stress me out
today?”

*

She found herself repeating those optimistic
words to herself just two hours later – trying to bring back the
cheerful peace of mind she'd had when she'd uttered them.

It had been a lovely morning. She'd taken a
long, luxurious bath, and then she and Autumn, with Miranda's
enthusiastic attempts at aid, had gotten Megan together.

Then the people began to arrive. First Noah,
an old friend of Autumn's brother, Sam, and a noted
photojournalist. He was doing their wedding pictures as a favor to
Autumn and Sam's dad. Senator Fred Harrington was renowned –
rightly – for his ability to wheedle anything out of anybody. He'd
eked some sort of I'll-help-you-if-you-help-me deal with Noah – the
result being that Jessica's wedding pictures were going to be
unquestionably fantastic.

Then Angeline and Susanna, the daughters of
Jessica's father's wife, Marla, had shown up – Susanna's son,
Zachariah, in tow. Zach was of an age with Miranda, and their joint
exuberance livened up the room considerably.

Angeline and Susanna also brought the
flowers.

This would have been an exciting moment –
seeing the wedding flowers for the first time. But Jessica's mom
had show up almost on their heels, followed a few minutes later by
Marla. And that sent the mood of the room into an instant and
powerful nosedive.

When the question of a wedding florist had
come up, and her dad and Marla had floated the idea of Angeline's
doing the job, Jessica had groaned aloud.

Luckily, they floated the idea in an email,
so they didn't hear the groan – but Ed had. And he'd shared her
pain. There was no doubt this was going to be a problem.

It wasn't anything to do with Angeline.
Jessica had never seen her work, but her dad said she was doing
well enough with her fledgling floral business now to be employing
her sister, Susanna, and one other person – and Jessica knew he
wouldn't try to promote anybody, even family, to such a prominent
position in the wedding planning unless they were capable of doing
the job. Marla and Antonio were of the opinion that Angeline was
ready to expand further – and Jessica's wedding would be an
extraordinary showcase for her talents. Jessica had no particular
problem with this.

The problem, of course, was her mother – who
would not take kindly to anything that could be construed as any
sort of favor to one of Marla's children.

Jessica, uncomfortable in the first place
with the lavish affair her mother was spearheading, finally
concluded that it just wasn't worth it to go head to head with her
on the issue of a florist whose work she hadn't even seen. She
concocted the appropriate apologies to Angeline in her head, and
thought about what to say to smooth the waters with her dad and
Marla, all the way through a transatlantic flight.

But when she pulled up in front of her dad's
house, the first thing she saw was the new landscaping. It was
Angeline's work, of course. And she began in that moment to
comprehend that her stepsister wasn't just an adequate florist, or
a pleasant person who maybe needed a career boost. She was an
artist, waiting to be discovered. When she saw the pictures her dad
and Marla had of Angeline's other wedding work, she was sold.

She was bracing herself for the battle with
her mother – but Ed, like the best white knight she could imagine,
rode in to save her. He concocted the little white lie that his
mother, the dowager Lady Fontaine, had seen pictures of Angeline's
designs, and had been impressed.

And Willa, faced with the idea of Lady
Fontaine's aristocratic commendation, as well as Jessica's gentle
prodding, had given only the most token resistance to Angeline's
participation. It was a wonderfully satisfying conclusion to a
vexing situation.

But now, at the event's zenith, Willa's
amenability had clearly worn thin. Even the prospect of “her
ladyship's” approval couldn't soothe her irritation that Marla's
daughter should have such a visible role in the day. She watched
Angeline unwrapping things with such an obvious desire to find
fault that Jessica had mumbled some excuse and escaped to the
vanity to put on her makeup.

It was a brief escape.

“...just don't think that's exactly what
Jessica intended when she chose the bridesmaids' flowers.” Willa's
voice cut through the space dividing her and Jessica like a knife
slicing through a cloud. Her tone was what Jessica privately
thought of as her mother's “looking down her nose” voice.

She sighed.

“Oh, I think they're lovely, Aunt Willa,”
Megan was protesting.

Jessica set her compact down to listen,
peering surreptitiously into the mirror at the scene behind her She
couldn't see her mother's face – but poor Angeline, had gone a
little pale.

“They really are, Angeline,” Autumn added.
“You did an amazing job.”

Marla wasn't speaking – but her eyes, Jessica
could see plainly, were stormy.

“She worked very hard,” Susanna put in. Her
face was flushed as she moved to flank her sister.

“I'm not saying she didn't put in a great
deal of effort,” Willa said. “I'm only saying...” Jessica could
just see her mother's arm – and the elegant little shrug she gave
to complete the sentence.

“You're only saying the best she could do was
something sub-par,” Susanna finished.

It was a gauntlet thrown down.

Marla sat up straight.

Angeline put a quelling hand on her sister's
arm – while Susanna clenched her fists, readying for battle.

Megan and Autumn turned as one to Jessica,
“help!” shooting from their eyes.

“Is there a problem with the flowers?”
Jessica asked, rising quickly from her little padded chair. She
moved across the room for a better look at the bouquets, spread out
on the bed.

And her mouth fell open.

They weren't just adequate. They were
exceptional. Riots of autumn colors, so intricately pieced together
as to resemble random gatherings of the most beautiful wild finds.
Accents of colored leaves and gold-embossed ribbon. They were
absolutely breathtaking.

Jessica picked up her own bouquet, and buried
her nose in the fragrant blossoms. It was perfect, just
perfect.

When she raised her head, she felt the press
of tears in her eyes. She put the bouquet carefully down, and then,
on impulse, threw her arms around Angeline. “Thank you, Angie.
Thank you so much. They're more beautiful than I'd imagined – even
more than the pictures you showed me. These must have taken you
hours and hours of work.”

When Angeline pulled back, her eyes were as
glistening as Jessica's. “I'm just glad you like them.”

Everyone palpably relaxed – with the
exception of Willa, whose mouth had set into a very tight, very
thin line.

Noting it, Autumn stepped forward. “Oh, Aunt
Willa, I'm so sorry. I forgot completely that my mom wanted me to
ask you to come to her when you had a minute. She's got some sort
of jewelry emergency or something.”

That got Willa's attention. “What sort of
jewelry emergency?”

“I have no idea. But apparently she needs
your opinion before she can consider her outfit complete. She's
going to kill me for making her wait so long. I can't believe I
forgot. Will you come?”

“Of course. I'll head right over.”

“It's Room 302. Can you tell Mom I'll be over
with Miranda in few minutes? She wanted to take pictures when she
was dressed.”

“Certainly.”

When she'd left, Autumn pulled out her cell
phone. “I have to call my mom,” she muttered to Jessica. “She has
about two minutes to come up with a jewelry emergency.” She moved
into the hall for privacy.

*

When she emerged from the bathroom wearing
her dress, Jessica felt, for the first time, that it might not be
such a bad thing, all the extravagance of this day.

She'd wanted a quiet ceremony – rustic,
private. Candles on picnic tables, lights strung on trees, that
sort of thing. But her mother had thrown an absolute fit at the
idea.

“You're marrying into nobility, Jessica.
Aristocracy! We are
not
going to be the clumsy and inelegant
Americans in front of them.”

“Mom, they're not snooty. We don't need to
impress them. I think a simple country wedding sounds nice. Maybe a
picnic...?”