Fated Hearts (16 page)

Minny and Jan weren’t deliberately insulting. Henley had known them the whole of her life; both women suffered from privileged excess combined with a shared three brain cells between them. Carter had gone to get beverages, and the sisters had descended upon her.

“Sorry to disappoint, but that was a one-night show.”

“Who’s that guy you’re with? He’s hot,” Minny said around the stuffed mushroom she’d snagged from a passing tray of hors d'oeuvres. She had recently divorced—information she’d shared upon saying hello. Maybe it was talking with her mouth full that had caused husband number three to head for the hills.

“My friend Carter.”

“Mmmm,” Jan added. “Is he single?”

Ah, the serial dater. Jan would never settle down. Commitment would dent her active and varied sex life. Her “fuck ’em and duck ’em” credo was legend at The Brighton Girls Academy.

“Of course he isn’t single, dummy. He’s here with Henley.” Minny stared, obviously waiting for Henley to confirm or deny her and Carter’s dating status.

“Ladies.” Carter handed her a martini and looped his arm around her shoulders before raising his tumbler. “A toast to beauty.”

Instead of tasting his drink, he bent his head and kissed her softly. Laughter danced under the brief contact; he was amused and sharing the joke with her. Carter must have overheard the catty interrogation. She smiled against his lips. Henley turned back toward the sisters, whose mouths hung open.

“Not single,” Henley advised smugly.

The two hurried off without a word, and she sighed.

“That was fun. But they’ll tell everyone what they saw and heard. It’ll be on social media in about five minutes.”

“You think it’ll take that long?”

She grinned. “Probably not. Thank you for the drink and the rescue.”

“You’re welcome.” She watched him grab food as a waiter passed. “Is everyone in Cleveland as rude as the people at this wedding?”

She thanked him for the crab cake he offered. It was delicious. He seemed to enjoy plying her with food. “No, of course not. You met Rissa.”

“Can I ask you something?” She nodded. “Am I single?”

Henley bit into the appetizer and used the moment to consider him. His eyes sparkled. She thought he was teasing, but did a real question lurk under the playfulness? She’d only just accepted the reality that she was in some form of relationship with him; she wasn’t ready for a commitment. But could she handle Carter dating someone else while he waited for her to catch up?

“I would prefer if you didn’t date other people while pursuing me, as you put it.”

She watched Carter’s face as she waited for his reaction. Instead of responding, he nodded his head toward something beyond her shoulder. Henley turned; her parents huddled in the far corner of the room. Their conversation appeared hostile.

“Proud of your handiwork?”

Henley swiveled to her right and found Michelle standing there, her back to most of the room, her eyes angry, but a stiff smile gracing her lips. Henley imagined the grin was meant for any of her guests who happened to glance this way. The anger was definitely aimed at her.

“I don’t know that whatever Mom and Dad are discussing has anything to do with me. And neither do you.”

“Yes, you do. Who else would have upset them?” Michelle’s smile widened, and she waved to someone who called her name. Her tone, set low enough not to arouse attention, held enough frost to bring an early winter. “You weren’t invited. I don’t want you here. This is
my
day, and you’re not going to ruin it. Feel free to finish your drink before you leave.”

“I’ll go when I’m ready and not a minute sooner. We came a long way to be a part of your special day.”

“I don’t understand what part of ‘I don’t want you here’ is fucking confusing. You’d think after twelve years of secondary education and being a former psychiatrist, you’d be more intuitive. Showing up uninvited with a guest is so far beyond the realm of socially acceptable behavior—even you should know it was rude.” Michelle shifted her body toward Carter. “I don’t know who you are, but my sister’s bad manners must be rubbing off on you.”

“I find it amusing you have the gall to judge anyone else’s manners, Mrs. Hutson; yours are appalling,” Carter reprimanded.

“Michelle, this is my friend Carter. And he’s right; you’re out of line.”

Ignoring her, Michelle smiled coyly. “I didn’t know they bred them this handsome out in the boonies. I’m going to give you a solid piece of advice, Carter. Be careful with my sister—she destroys everything and everyone around her. It’s not enough to be mad as a hatter; she spreads insanity like a virus.” She laughed meanly. “I suggest you ask what happened to the last man who cared about her before you get any further involved.”

Henley sucked air in noisily, desperately trying to fill lungs that suddenly felt empty. On the heels of the shock came a flare of anger, and she shook with the need to physically strike her sister. Michelle looked at her, gauging the effect of her words, and smiled, the first genuine emotion she’d displayed since her approach. Henley couldn’t do anything without causing a scene that would further embarrass her family. And Michelle knew it. Secure in the knowledge her barb had struck home, Michelle floated into the crowd of well-wishers.

Calm down, breathe naturally
, Henley chanted silently. Carter pulled her into the safety of his embrace, rubbing her back and murmuring soft words she couldn’t quite hear but still found comforting. His palm was warm between her exposed shoulders, and she absorbed his emotions greedily. He was angry, too, but with it there was a soothing combination of concern and affection—for her. When she stepped back, she was in control.

“I’m sorry, Carter.” He kept his arms loosely circled around her. She could tell from the look on his face he was going to reject her apology. She had an idea why and what he would say, but she was still sorry. She touched a finger to his lips, quieting him with the simple gesture, and whispered, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Sticking up for me. With my father, with Michelle, with the words you wanted to say just now. Knowing I needed a minute and offering comfort while I took it. For being you.”

“Being me is the easy part.” He winked, and she had a sudden urge to weep.

“I’ll be right back.” At his arched look, she explained, “Restroom. Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone.”

“Can’t make any promises.” His comment drew a laugh from her as she made her way to the ladies’ room. He’d replaced her tears with humor. Henley noticed a few people looking at her speculatively, their attention no doubt drawn by her distinctive laugh.
Wondering if the bad apple is going to snap out, I bet. Or, knowing some of these people, hoping I will. I’m not giving them the pleasure.
She lifted her chin and pushed open the door to the ladies’ room.

Her mother sat at the vanity, her expression miserable.

“Mom? Is everything okay?”

“No. No, it’s not. I thought, I was so sure, that if you came to the wedding and your father and sister saw how well you were doing for themselves, they’d be happy to see you. And then you would come home for good. Instead, they’re both mad at me. All the guests are talking about what happened at the Winter Ball. And asking intrusive questions about your mental health, just as they did then. It’s like it happened last month rather than over two years ago.

“You shouldn’t have come. Ever since that unfortunate incident in college, you’ve done your best to darken every bright moment,” her mother accused. Henley bit back the angry words on the edge of her tongue. The “unfortunate incident” had irreparably changed her, and her mother minimized it. Treated her illness as an intentional machination designed to … what? Screw with the Elliott clan? She took a deep breath and counted to ten before speaking.

“You invited me. I’ve missed you and Dad. I wanted to be a part of the most important day in Michelle’s life. You can’t hold that against me.” She sighed. “I’d hoped for a better reception, true. But I was prepared for worse.”

Her mother appeared smaller, older to her; she looked defeated. It had been only two years since Henley had fled, and she remembered her mom as vibrant.
Did I cause this?

She knelt and cradled the elegant hands between her own. She couldn’t remember the last time she had touched her mother. And Henley had never deliberately used her ability this way. But she needed to know not what her mother said or for what purpose those words were intended, but what was really in her mom’s heart.

What Henley felt took a chokehold on her throat. Disappointment, trepidation, sorrow, guilt, worry—every conflicted emotion Henley had inferred from her mother’s doublespeak—flowed from her into Henley. But under it all was a thick, painful thread of love and confusion.

“Oh, Mom.” Henley laid her cheek against their clasped hands. “I tried so hard to be the person you wanted me to be, but I couldn’t. I know you don’t understand the woman I am, but I think I’m starting to like myself. Please try to accept that.”

“Are you happy, Henley?”

“I think I could be, yes.”

“That’s all I need. That’s all any mother needs.” When Henley looked up, her mother smiled and patted her cheek. “It’s been a long time since you allowed me to touch you. Is it getting better?”

It was the closest Eliza Elliott had come to acknowledging Henley’s ability wasn’t a delusion. “I’m learning to deal with it. Accept that it’s part of me instead of trying to ignore it and avoid living. Something I should have tried years ago.”

“I can see bits and pieces of my little girl, the one who went off to college full of hope and dreams, in the woman you’ve become since you left. Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. No matter what your father, your sister, or I think.” Henley nodded. “The young man you’re with, is any of this because of him?”

“Mom.” Henley smiled. “He’s my age.”

“And in comparison to me that makes him a young man. Answer the question.”

“It’s not because of him. It’s not for him either. But he has helped. Along with the other friends I’ve made.” At her mother’s skeptical glance, Henley clarified. “It’s not like it was with Jacob. I promise.”

“Okay.” She patted Henley’s hand and stood, checking her appearance in the mirror. “We’d better get back.”

“You’re right.” She stood at her mother’s side, making a cursory check of her own face. She looked a great deal like her mother, Henley realized. A smile was building when the door behind them opened. Henley groaned, and her mother shot her a warning glance.

“Hello, Dorie. How are you, dear?”

“I’m excellent, Mrs. Elliott. This is certainly the event of the year. I imagine you’re very proud of Michelle.”

Dorie Stokes was both a friend and competitor of Michelle’s, and she hadn’t taken her gaze from Henley. From the time she was five years old, she had tried to bully Henley.
It’s probably the only thing Michelle likes about her.

“Henley.”

“Dorie. I was surprised you weren’t maid of honor.”

“I declined as I once dated the groom and, though honored, thought it would be in bad taste. I’m surprised you’re here. Weekend furlough from the asylum?”

Henley took a half step, acting on instinct, but a hand on the crook of her elbow halted the forward momentum. She glanced at her mom, and Eliza shook her head slightly. Then she smiled brightly at Dorie.

“How nice of you to be concerned, dear. And with all you must have on your plate right now.” Eliza beamed. “You only recently returned from rehab and must have so many obligations to worry over.”

“It was a spa.”

“Honey, there’s no such thing as a court-ordered facial. Glass houses and all that. Give your mother my best.”

Henley and her mother exited together, Dorie standing behind them, her mouth agape. When the door closed, Henley spun on her heel. “Mom that was … that was terrific.”

“It’s not right to take pleasure in someone else’s misfortune.”

“Dorie has had that coming for years,” Henley said.

“I’m talking about Dorie. Always was a mean-spirited child.”

“Call her a bitch, Mom. I double-dog dare you.”

Her mom flushed and laughed, and for a second, Henley thought she might just do it. But she swatted Henley on the arm and told her to behave. “Your friend seems to have found a friend.”

Carter stood to the side, smiling down at a much shorter man Henley didn’t recognize. Carter looked up as though he felt her stare, and his smile grew.

“Oh, my,” Eliza murmured.

“You can say that again.”

• • •

“I’m sorry about today. I wouldn’t have knowingly set you up to be hurt.”

There had been a few awkward moments with other guests determined to bring up the past, but after her mother’s smackdown of Dorie in the ladies’ room, they hadn’t fazed her. She and Carter had stayed until nearly the end of the reception, and it was late. The city was dark, but if you paid attention, you could hear the hum. It was a living, breathing thing that never rested. She was lazily admiring the city as it rolled by her window but missing the wide, open spaces the Cove boasted and the friendly faces she’d found there. Henley hadn’t noticed until he’d spoken that they were in front of the hotel and the valet waited to open the door for her.

“There’s no need to apologize, Carter. It went better than I expected.” She released the seat belt.

“You don’t have to put on a brave front for me.”

“I’m not. In fact, my mother and I had an honest and emotional conversation. It’s not going to instantly change things between us, but it’s a positive step. Granted, some of the rest didn’t go as well as I’d hoped, but beggars can’t be choosers.” She shrugged and unlocked the door. “I don’t fit into their lives.”

“No one touched you. Not a one of them moved to hug you or kiss your cheek. They weren’t happy to see you.”

“I told you my family isn’t like yours.” She stepped onto the curb with a thank you and heard the driver’s door close behind her. Carter joined her on the pavement. “You liked Aunt Betty. And she really liked you.”

“She wasn’t serious when she asked if I wanted to be her sixth husband. Was she?”