Lori Wilde - There Goes The Bride (16 page)

“Did you or not?”

“I tried to, but I couldn’t get the words out. I did mention that I had a job on Galveston Island.”

“Well, that was straightforward and to the point.” Skylar picked up a tube of lipstick off Delaney’s vanity, plunked down in front of the mirror, and rolled some on. “Ick! Too pale. Ditch the pink and get some red.”

“If you don’t like my lipstick then don’t use it.”

“I don’t have a choice. You’re the only one who dreams about me.”

“Mother and Daddy don’t dream about you?”

“Not much. Not anymore.” Skylar uncapped Delaney’s mascara and leaned forward to brush it across her eyelashes.

“Then why do I keep dreaming of you?”

“Who do I look like, Sigmund Freud? How would I know? Anyway, back to Mother.”

“I don’t know why she was there, but I’m telling you it was our mother.”

“If you’re so certain, then you should have confronted her, not wishy-washed around. If it had been me, I would have just come right out and said, ‘Hey, Mom, spied you on Galveston Island chatting up a one-eyed carny chick; what gives?’”

“Yeah, well, that’s you.”

Skylar propped her cowgirl-booted feet up on the vanity and cocked back in the chair until only the two back legs were left on the floor. “Remember how Mom used to carry on about the evils of carnivals and street fairs and amusement parks? What was her deal? If it wasn’t for Uncle Lance and Aunt Maxie taking me with their kids, I would never have even gone to Sea World.”

“I never did get to go to Sea World,” Delaney said. “By the time I was old enough, you were dead and Mom wouldn’t let me out of her sight.”

“Wonder what her deal is with carnivals? A rock concert phobia I get, but carnivals? Come on. Everyone loves carnivals.”

“Not our mother.”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“About what?”

“Finding out what Mom was doing there.”

“I’m not going to do anything about it.”

“Why not? Scared of the one-eyed woman?”

Truthfully, yes.
“What would be the point?”

“So you’d have something over on Mother. We spent our lives totally under her control, and now you have the opportunity to prove she was not only hanging out at an amusement park, but that she lied to you about it. And besides, aren’t you just a wee bit curious as to why?”

“Why
would
she be there?”

“Maybe she was buying drugs. Mother always told us that behind the scenes, carnivals were a hotbed for drugs.”

“Mother? Doing drugs? Please.”

“Yeah, you’re right. If she was doing drugs, she wouldn’t be so uptight.”

“I’ve been thinking about it all day,” Delaney said. “It makes no sense.”

“Maybe she went there to meet a lover.”

“Hello, I saw her with a woman.”

“Eeps! Mother’s a lesbian? That’s her big secret.” Skylar leaned back too far and the chair hit the ground. She rolled on the floor, laughing hysterically. “Good thing I’m not real. Otherwise, that might have hurt.”

“Until now, I never realized how silly you were.”

“I’m forever trapped in your imagination the way I was when I died. Of course I’m silly. I’m sixteen.”

“When I was a kid I thought you were so mature and sophisticated.”

“We all have our shattered illusions. Like Mother at an amusement park. Life will never be the same.”

“You’re making fun of me.”

Skylar shrugged. “Have you told Mother about the wedding veil yet?”

“No.”

“Wanna get to wear it with impunity?”

Delaney eyed her sister. “What do you have in mind?”

“Go talk to the one-eyed woman. Get proof it was our mother you saw at the amusement park. Then tell her you want to wear the veil. If she refuses, you whip out your trump card and inform her that you’ll tell Dad about her clandestine trip to Galveston if she doesn’t put her stamp of approval on the veil.”

“But that’s blackmail.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I can’t blackmail my own mother.”

“No? Why not? She’s been doing it to you for years.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Using my death to keep you in line. Be perfect, live up to her expectations, or you’ll end up dead. That’s emotional blackmail. She’s kept you from being the person you were truly meant to be. This, my sis, is the ideal time to declare your independence and break free. All it requires is a little daring on your part. You up for it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.” Skylar winked, and then Delaney woke up.

Honey couldn’t sleep.

She’d spent the night tossing and turning beside a snoring James Robert, thinking of what she’d been forced to do the previous day and fretting over something Delaney had said at dinner the night before, about having a house to stage out on Galveston Island. She’d announced it quite out of the blue and then stared at Honey as if she knew something.

Could Delaney have seen her at the amusement park?

She had to find out.

Just after dawn, she got up, dressed, and went to Delaney’s room.

She knocked on the door, and before her daughter could tell her to come in, Honey was already pushing her way over the threshold. She found Delaney sitting at the vanity in her bathrobe, flatironing her hair. Delaney’s hair, without the proper products and styling techniques, looked shockingly unruly.

“You’re up early,” Delaney said mildly.

“I thought maybe we could have a heart-to-heart.” Honey made Delaney’s bed and stiffly sat down on it.

“Is this about the wedding preparations?” Delaney eyed her from the mirror.

“No. Not really. We just haven’t had much of a chance to talk lately, and I was feeling we were a bit disconnected. You’ve been busy with this new project, and I’ve been busy too.” Honey came over to pat her shoulder. “Here. Let me have the flatiron. You missed a spot along your nape.”

Dutifully, Delaney handed her the ceramic styling iron and Honey breathed a sigh of relief. The insurrection had been a small one.

“Sit up straight; you’re slouching.”

Delaney sat up, but kept her eyes lowered so Honey couldn’t peer into the mirror and read her thoughts. But she could feel tension tightening the muscles along the back of her daughter’s neck.

“Busy doing what?” Delaney asked.

Alarm spread through Honey. Was her daughter being cagey? “Why, planning your wedding of course.”

“Right,” Delaney said in that calm, unemotional tone of hers that at times Honey found slightly demeaning.

You’re the one who stressed the importance of learning to manage her emotions. She’s just doing what you taught her.

Ah, but she’d learned too well. Honey feared she never really knew what her daughter was thinking or feeling behind those enigmatic green eyes so much like her own.

The price of controlling her youngest daughter had been high, but it was a cost Honey had no choice but to pay. She refused to let Delaney end up like Skylar. Even after seventeen years, the memory of her oldest child painfully wrenched Honey’s heart. Haunting guilt sent her gaze flicking over Delaney, looking for any problems to nip in the bud. She took in the serene sophistication of her daughter’s large bedroom with its cool sage green walls, cherrywood sleigh bed, and haute couture–inspired accessories.

“Did you have a wedding-based errand at the amusement park on Galveston Island yesterday afternoon?”

Honey froze.
Don’t reveal a thing. Keep your face emotionless.
“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Come on, Mother, I saw you.”

The words, once spoken, were as powerful as a slap. Honey’s cheeks stung. She gulped. How was she going to handle this?

Lie through your teeth. It’s the only way to survive.

Grappling to control the terror mushrooming inside her, Honey laughed, trying to sound carefree, but she only ended up sounding nervous. “Don’t be absurd. You know how much I hate Galveston and amusement parks.”

“Yes, I do, which is exactly why it struck me as so odd to see you there.”

“I wasn’t there,” Honey denied. “It wasn’t me.”

The flatiron hissed in the silence between them, steam rising up from Delaney’s hair. The silence lay heavy. An accusation.

“Are you having an affair?” Delaney asked.

This time her laugh was honest. “Don’t be silly, darling. I would never jeopardize my marriage for a fling. I love your father with all my heart. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love him.”

“You couldn’t prove it by me.” Delaney’s voice was flint.

“Excuse me?” This change in her daughter bothered Honey immensely. Skylar had bucked her, spectacularly and often, but Delaney? Never.

“You nag Daddy constantly. He can’t ever seem to do anything to please you.”

Honey was taken aback. “I do not.”

But it was true. She did nitpick James Robert. It was for his own good. Without her he would just drift along, never taking a stand, never feeling strongly about anything.

“I know things between the two of you fell apart after Skylar died, but Mother, it’s been seventeen years. Hasn’t Daddy been punished enough?”

“I’m not punishing him.”

Delaney’s accusation was ludicrous. Wasn’t it?

“No?”

“I’m helping him to improve.”

“What if he doesn’t want to improve? What if he likes being the way he is? You married him that way. How come he isn’t good enough for you anymore? You criticize me all the time too. How come I’m not good enough either? What’s this impossibly high standard you’re trying to reach? Face it, Mother, we’re never going to be good enough for you.”

Shocked to her very core, Honey sucked in her breath. “Darling,” she whispered, “I had no idea you felt this way. I only correct you because I love you so much. I want to see you excel. To have a rewarding life.”

“Have you ever considered your definition of excellence might differ greatly from Daddy’s and mine?”

“Please don’t get me wrong. I’m not putting you down. You’re a wonderful daughter, and you’ve accomplished so much. You’ve started your own business and it’s thriving. You’re about to marry one of the most eligible bachelors in Texas, who just happens to be a really nice person as well. People are going to be talking about this wedding for years to come.”

Using the curling iron, Honey pointed to Delaney’s framed “ugly duckling” picture she encouraged her to keep on her dresser as a reminder not to slip up and go off her diet. “See how far you’ve come. You were a size eighteen in that picture, and now look at you, a perfect size four. I’m so proud.”

“Uh-huh,” Delaney muttered. “That’s what I thought. As long as I stay thin I have your approval, but let me dare to gain weight, and I risk losing your love. Gotta tell you, Mother, conditional love doesn’t feel so swell.”

Honey had to bite down on her tongue to keep from lecturing her about mumbling and saying “uh-huh” and “gotta.” Truth be told, her feelings were hurt. How could her own daughter misunderstand her intentions so completely?

“There.” She forced a smile. “All done.”

“Thank you.” Delaney unplugged the flatiron and headed into the adjoining bathroom.

Suddenly feeling exhausted, Honey sank down on the bed. She thought once she’d raised Delaney to adulthood, everything would be so much easier.

But it was not.

She had imagined they would be fast friends, going shopping, calling each other several times a day, sharing fashion tips and diet recipes, and laughing together.

But they did not.

Honey thought that preparing for this wedding would be the glue that would finally bond them, that once Delaney was engaged and on the road to becoming a married woman, she would finally understand the sacrifices Honey had made. That she wanted only the very best for her.

But it had not.

If anything, the impending wedding seemed to be pushing them farther and farther apart, with Delaney growing more apathetic with each decision made. She didn’t seem to have any sort of opinion on the cake or the reception menu or the invitations. Her reaction to everything was a bland, “Whatever you like.”

What was wrong with her daughter?

The staunch reserve she’d perfected over the years slipped, and tears she hadn’t cried since losing Skylar sprang from her eyes and slid down her cheeks. In spite of trying her very best, she was a terrible mother who couldn’t love her own daughter unconditionally. God was punishing her for her lies and deceptions.

What would happen if Delaney found out about the blackmailer? What if she learned the truth?

Fear thrashed inside her. She struggled not to give in to it. She kept her hands knotted tightly in her lap, her shoulders set straight, and with catlike concentration willed the tears to stop. She was not a weak person. She was strong, she was a survivor. She and Delaney would weather this storm and come out stronger at the other end.