Mistaken Identities (30 page)

“Bryce, you are nothing like your father.” She cupped his face and turned him so she could see his eyes. They were filled with fear. “You stood up for your sister. We are all disgusted by his actions. You put her healing above family pride or lineage. You faced him in court and faced the community without shame. Your only worry was about Kim and her suffering. Your mother refused to help and enabled the sick fool while you stayed true to your beliefs. Bryce, I love you and I swear to you, it will die with him. I have no doubt you’ll be an amazing father and an even better husband. I will go to sleep next to you knowing that there is nothing our family has to fear. You’re a good, kind, honorable man and I love you. Let it die with him because he is not you and you are not him.”

He turned and pulled her close. “Have I mentioned that I simply adore you and you have made me the happiest man in the world by agreeing to be my wife?”

“In another week,” Stasia pointed out.

“I can’t wait. Wanna run away to Vegas?” He nuzzled her neck.

She laughed huskily. “Oh, no, when I made that offer you shot it down. I’ve got a dress I’m wearing, buddy, so you’re stuck with next Saturday at Piper’s Glen. Be there or be square.”

He laughed before he kissed her gently. “Oh, I’ll be there.”

“I’m counting on it,” she whispered. “And you always have been, time after time.”

* * * *

Her wedding day dawned with clear blue skies and a light breeze coming off Lake Norman. She looked out the window of her wedding suite at Piper’s Glen and watched as staff bustled about setting out white chairs and decorating the gazebo with flowers. The wedding party was staying at Kim’s bed and breakfast; the bride was upstairs and the groom downstairs.

Stasia’s mother had turned into a crazy mother of the bride and was camped out on the stairs, insisting that Bryce couldn’t see her before the wedding. That didn’t mean that in the middle of the night she didn’t sneak out and meet him by the tree overlooking the lake to watch the stars and make out. Stasia didn’t know how she could feel so happy and so scared all at once. She wasn’t accustomed to things working out for her, but here she was getting ready to be married to the man she’d loved since she was a teenager.

Kim had been up for hours in the kitchen refusing help with making all the little wedding toppers for the tiny cupcakes out of fondant. Stasia’s colors were blue, orange and white. The flower arrangements were of blue roses and tiger lilies with baby’s breath sprinkled in. The colors matched every bit of ribbon, bows, and centerpieces. The DJ was setting up and the garden was aflutter with Mrs. Eden directing like an air traffic controller. Butterflies took flight in her stomach as she realized she was getting married in a few hours.

There was a knock on the door and her sister came in. “Are you ready for this?”

Stasia took a deep breath. “I guess I am.”

Malika grinned. “Then let the chaos begin.”

Chaos it was. Her mother filed in her nieces and her one nephew and Kimberly. Stasia smiled. She’d found something with her mother and sister she never thought she’d have. From the day she went to the Ruby Houses to confront her mother, she, her mother, and her sister talked more, lunched together quite often, and were slowly working past issues. They were in a good place and she was feeling more settled about it.

With everyone in her room, there were dresses to get on, makeup to be done, and before pictures to be taken. Stasia had hot rollers in her hair and her head felt heavy. She missed her ponytail and asked if she could wear that for the wedding. Her mother threatened to crack her on the knuckles if she messed with the hard work being put into her hair. Time was flying by and soon it was time for her to step into her dress. Malika and the kids were in blue, Kim was in a gorgeous orange dress as maid of honor, and Stasia would be wearing white. She had the satin camisole on when the telephone rang and Kim answered it.

“Bryce, don’t you dare. It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding. Do not come up those stairs,” Kim warned.

As soon as the words left Kim’s mouth, Stasia’s mom threw herself against the door, barricading it.

“Okay, fine, a conversation via telephone is not considered bad luck. One sec.” Kim rolled her eyes and handed the phone to Stasia.

“Hello?”

“Hi, wife, how’s it going up there?” Bryce’s deep voice gave her delicious little shivers.

“I’m not your wife yet. I may run,” Stasia said.

“I’d trip her. Don’t worry,” her mother called out, still standing near the door.

He chuckled. “See, I have back up. Besides, I know where you live,” Bryce said. “Ready to do this?”

“I think so. In fact, I know so,” Stasia said. Despite her nervousness, she never wanted to be anywhere other than in Bryce’s arms for the rest of her life.

“See you outside,” Bryce murmured. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” It was becoming easier to say.

“Now, let’s get you into your dress,” her mother said with a smile.

After she had on her dress, Stasia turned to face the mirror and her breath caught in her throat. Who was this person looking back at her? Soft curls framed her face, her veil fell over the rest of her hair, cascading down her back. Her white strapless dress accentuated her curves and the hand-beaded fabric gave her dress an antique look. Her train wasn’t too long. She had nixed that idea early on because the wedding prep was getting out of hand. She wanted it simple and intimate and, in the end, she got what she wanted.

Her eyes seemed different and that was what stunned Stasia the most. Gone was the guarded, wary look, always expecting that she would have to fight. The unhappiness and the anger of living a hard life had also disappeared. Now her eyes glittered with life and happiness. She had been scared to admit it for so long for fear of losing it, but she was happy.

The first strings of the song she wanted played when she walked down the aisle floated through the window.
At Last
by Etta James because the words truly meant something wonderful. Everyone filed out and she waited until it was her turn to walk out into the garden to meet her husband. Bryce was amazingly handsome in his black tux. He wore a dark blue silk tie to match the bridesmaids and Cole wore an orange tie to match Kim. Kim and Cole’s wedding would be in four weeks and they’d be doing it all over again at Piper’s Glen.

As she walked down the aisle, there were faces she remembered from her past. Bryce’s mother wasn’t there, but Jackie was wearing a very stylish, large flamboyant hat. The wedding hadn’t even started but she was already wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. Stasia looked ahead and focused on the man she loved who had cut some of his unruly curls and was grinning boyishly. She couldn’t wait until his hair grew out again. He didn’t know it but she liked his hair longer, windblown and tousled. Finally, she was facing him and handed Kim her bouquet.

He took her hand and bent down to whisper in her ear. “You take my breath away.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, stud,” Stasia teased.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony.”

The minister began the ceremony and Stasia felt like she could float away. This whole process had taught her that you could never move forward without going back and burying the demons of the past. And because of that, she and Bryce were ready to have a life together without reservations or doubts. Bryce would be there for her no matter what and she’d do the same for him. Their love would save each other from falling, time after time.

Epilogue

Stasia stared out to the surf as she sat in the sand. Her and Bryce’s house was behind her and she could have sat on one of the lounge chairs on the patio facing the ocean but she wanted to bury her feet in the warm sand and watch the boats in the distance. Down the beach, a man threw a line for fishing off the pier and as she turned her head, she saw her neighbor with her easel painting another seascape. She lifted her hand, returning the friendly wave sent her way. They already had two seascapes in the house from their neighbor and an idea formed in Stasia’s head to commission her for something special to be painted that she’d need very soon.

Things had changed so much in the several months that followed their wedding. It was coming up to their first anniversary in three weeks. Bryce had gotten a job in the Hatteras Island Police Department and with his exemplary record he’d taken the post as a detective in the small force. Kim and Cole got married soon after they did and Kim was pregnant soon after that. She was the epitome of a beautiful, expectant mother. She blossomed and practically beamed with happiness. Marriage, motherhood, and running Piper’s Glen suited her. Cole subsequently left the Caldwell police force and started a private security firm so he could be close to the bed and breakfast and have his own hours.

Bryce and Kim’s father died in prison four months after the wedding. He’d had a heart attack and refused to be treated. Bryce got the notification and told Kim who cried. She wasn’t crying because she lost a father, she was crying because she felt the last chains of her past break and she was finally and truly free. Their mother contacted them asking them to attend the funeral for the patriarch of the family. Even in death, Mrs. McDowell chose to live in the dream that he was a good man wrongly accused. Neither of them went. She laid blame at her children’s feet and not where it needed to be.

Stasia was in school full time and between classes to get her degree in child psychology and family services, she worked with a local child advocacy group that dealt with primarily abused children and getting them help and finding them good homes that would understand their special needs. There were nights she came home crying because of what she’d seen or heard, but as Bryce held her she knew she could never give up her goals. The day she became desensitized to the horrible things people could do to children was the day she’d have lost her soul. So she counted her tears as a good thing to reaffirm that she was right where she needed to be.

But now another path was opening up to them and she sat looking out to the ocean, feeling the breeze and a smile on her face. She felt his presence long before she saw him. His black boots were on either side of her as he sat down and pulled her against his chest. He smelled like the outdoors, like aftershave, salt and the fresh air. His skin was tanned and she was very happy to look up and see the breeze playing with his unruly curls.

“You’re home early.” She tilted her head up for a kiss and got the lovely tingle that always came when his lips met hers.

“Slow crime day,” he chuckled. “What are you doing out here?”

“A little me time, clearing my head before I work on my paper,” she answered.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” Bryce asked.

She shook her head. “Definitely not. Stay and enjoy the evening with me. I love living here. This place is beautiful. Our life is beautiful. Being with you is beautiful.”

“Um, honey, are you okay? You used beautiful three times,” he said.

“Hey, I can think things are beautiful,” she retorted.

“Yes, you can, but you’re a ‘this freaking rocks’ kind of person instead of an ‘oh, this rainbow is beautiful kind of person’,” he answered. “You saying beautiful three times is creepy, like horror movie where a clown eats us creepy.”

She laughed. “You are so weird.”

“Pot calling the kettle weird,” he replied.

“God, our kid is going to have a blast with us,” Stasia said and then caught herself, but the words were already out and she felt his body tense.

“Our kid?” he said quietly.

She turned in his arms and nodded. “Got the confirmation today. You planted a bun in this here oven. How do you feel about it?” He looked at her bemused and she snapped her fingers. “Bryce, I’m pregnant, say something.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, eight weeks pregnant, have slight morning sickness, but do not expect me to be like Kim—all rainbows and kittens about it. Now that’s creepy,” Stasia answered. “I will be a grump, want unusual things to eat at three a.m. and force you to rub my feet after you get me said unusual things. You’re still silent. Are you happy, sad, what?”

“I’m in shock,” he said and put his hand on her belly.

“Don’t do that. It will kick,” she said and laughed when he moved his hand quickly. “I’m kidding. It’s too early for that.”

“You’re evil.” He pulled her earlobe. “To answer your question, I’m happy and terrified all at once.”

“We’ll be good at this, being parents, won’t we?” Stasia asked.

“Hell yes, we will. We’re great at everything else.” Bryce smiled at her. “How do you feel about our bun in your oven?”

“I feel like it will be a girl with your eyes and curly hair and my gorgeous skin but a little lighter.” Stasia linked fingers with him. “But I’m happy. We made him or her out of love and in eight months or less our family will be bigger.”

“We should get a puppy for the baby,” Bryce announced.

“The baby is not here yet, so how about we wait until he or she is old enough to appreciate a puppy?” she said laughing.

“I love you so much,” Bryce announced. “Thank you for making me a daddy.”

“I love you too and ditto for making me a mom,” Stasia said.

“Want to go celebrate?”

“We already are. Let’s watch the sun set and then we can get pizza with anchovies and pineapple chunks,” Stasia replied.

“Gross,” he groaned. “It has begun.”

“Bound to be worse.” She grinned.

Stasia leaned against her husband whose hand now rested on her still flat tummy and together they watched the sun descend behind the horizon. The sun would rise on a new day and then another. Stasia never felt so lucky because she would spend all of her days with him.

The End

About the Authors

Tressie Lockwood
has always loved books, and she enjoys writing about heroines who are overcoming the trials of life. She writes straight from her heart, reaching out to those who find it hard to be completely themselves no matter what anyone else thinks. She hopes her readers enjoy her short stories. Visit Tressie on the web at www.tressielockwood.com or her blog at tressielockwood.blogspot.com.