The Wedding Promise (21 page)

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Authors: Thomas Kinkade

BOOK: The Wedding Promise
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And on top of all that, he hadn’t even been offered the job, Jennifer reminded herself. So she would seem very silly and maybe even petty, complaining about something that hadn’t even happened.
“We haven’t really discussed it. We haven’t had time,” Jennifer replied finally. She knew she wasn’t answering Reverend Ben’s question.
“I see.” Reverend Ben nodded and leaned back in his chair. “You know, sometimes when a couple is planning a wedding there’s a certain pressure to act as if everything is perfect, like a picture in a magazine—or a fairy tale come true. But we all know that’s rarely the case. Nothing is perfect. And that’s okay.” He paused. “I’m sure you remember what we were talking about last time—about couples communicating. And how denying or brushing aside troubling matters can cause even bigger problems later. So if anything is bothering you, Jen, it’s fine to talk about it. That’s what we’re here for,” he reminded her with a kind smile.
“Is something bothering you, Jen?” Kyle turned and looked into her eyes.
Jen paused. Then decided she didn’t want to be the one to bring this up.
“I’m just a little distracted today, with all this wedding stuff going on,” she said. Kyle seemed satisfied with that answer.
But Reverend Ben didn’t seem to believe her, she thought. Not entirely. “Well, if there is something on your mind, or if something comes up that you’d like to talk about, please give me a call. We can meet anytime.”
Jennifer met his glance and nodded. Should she do that? No, Jennifer decided. There was no use telling Reverend Ben what was bothering her. She had to talk to Kyle.
“I really am a long shot for the job. But it is fun to think about,” Kyle admitted. “I guess we’ll just figure it out as we go along.”
“Yes, you will. It might not be easy to work it out. But try to remember, it’s the big decisions that challenge a couple, that help the relationship strengthen and grow. And my door is open if you ever need any help sorting things out.”
“Thank you, Reverend. That’s good to know,” Kyle replied. Jennifer finally smiled again. She had been incredibly relieved to hear Kyle admit his chances of getting the job were unlikely. It was just fun for him to think about. So why look for even more conflict and tension? There was really no reason to panic. Not yet. For goodness’ sake, they were just about to get married. She just wanted to get over that hurdle first.
“So, now that I’ve told you all you need to know about marriage,” Reverend Ben said in a humorous tone, “let’s talk about the ceremony a bit. . . . ”
Jennifer was glad for the change of topic. The ceremony was something she could talk about easily.
The meeting went on for another fifteen minutes. Then they left Reverend Ben’s office with a booklet to help them plan their service.
“So, what do you think now?” Jennifer asked as they walked across the village green to Kyle’s car. “Still want to get married?”
Kyle pretended to consider the question a moment. “I think we should give it a try. I’m not afraid of a few bumps in the road. Are you, Jen?”
She shook her head. “Not at all. What would life be without a few bumps? Very boring.” She thought again about the New York job. That was not a bump in the road, she thought. It was more like a cavernous pothole. One that might swallow them whole if they tried to cross it.
They sat side by side in Kyle’s convertible as he started the engine. She glanced at him. He’d told the reverend they hadn’t really talked about what they would do if he did get the job. Was this a good time to have that conversation? Or did Kyle really believe he had so little chance, it wasn’t worth talking about?
She glanced at him, wondering if she should be the first to say something now that they were alone.
“Jennifer?”
She turned to him. “Yes?”
“Do you want to go right to the beach, or should we stop someplace for lunch first?”
“I’ve packed up some lunch in the cooler with the cold drinks. I think we have everything.”
Kyle smiled and started the engine. “Okay then, we’ll stick with our plan.”
“Fine with me,” Jennifer said. She sat back and slipped on her sunglasses.
There would be a good time to talk to Kyle about this moving to New York problem, Jennifer reminded herself. She didn’t need to feel guilty about not bringing it up in the counseling session. Maybe she could talk to him out on the beach today. Or even tomorrow, before he went back to the city.
The last thing she wanted to do on such a beautiful day was cause some huge fight over something that might not even happen. They’d had enough little arguments lately about all this wedding business—more guests, more bridesmaids. And they still hadn’t even decided on the food yet.
She just didn’t want to start haggling about this, too. Not when they had so little time together.
Kyle could find out this week or next if he was a finalist. He might even be eliminated, Jennifer realized. Which meant they could get into a big heavy talk about this today, or a fight even, and it could all be pointless.
She glanced at Kyle, driving toward the beach and looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world. The wind ruffled his thick fair hair, and the blue sky seemed a perfect backdrop for his handsome profile.
She decided to wait and see what happened. This could all blow away, Jennifer thought hopefully. Like the high white clouds in the summer sky overhead.
 
 
AFTER handling the big group of cyclists, Liza and Claire fairly breezed through hosting seven guests over Memorial Day weekend. This was a much different group, two older couples, traveling together, and a thirtysomething couple, with their four-year-old daughter.
Avery was the little girl’s name, and she carried around a stuffed cat named Wally all weekend and even placed it in a chair at the table while she ate. Claire made Wally a plate of miniature fishshaped pancakes, served on a tiny china saucer, which delighted both Avery and her parents. And everyone else in the dining room, Liza noticed.
“That’s why we like to stay at lovely inns like this one. It’s the personal touches that make a trip so pleasant and memorable,” the little girl’s mother said when they checked out.
“Thank you. We try,” Liza said sincerely.
She did try and was learning this golden rule better every day. Luckily, Claire was already a natural at it. She was so empathetic, considerate, and observant. She almost knew what a guest wanted before the guest did.
Both the cycling group and the Memorial Day weekend guests had been blessed with beautiful weather. It seemed as if the rain was on a timer, Liza thought, like a sprinkler system. The last visitor had barely turned onto the main road when the rain started falling on Tuesday morning and continued for the rest of the week.
“The rain has to fall sometime,” Claire said. “Or we won’t have any flowers in June.”
Liza knew she meant for the wedding,
Liza didn’t mind the rain either. She had a lot of catching up to do in her office and with the wedding plans. It was better not to be tempted outside by a sunny day.
The only downside to the rain was that Daniel didn’t come.
Most of the work he needed to do at the inn was outdoors and a rainy day like this was a good time for him to do inside work at other jobs, he explained to her over the phone.
“I’ll be back in a day or so. I’m sure I’ll be done with that list before the wedding, so don’t worry,” he added.
“I’m not worried,” Liza replied.
I just miss you
, she wanted to add.
They talked for a few more minutes. Liza felt distracted, wishing Daniel would ask her out again. She dropped what she thought was a broad hint, telling him that she didn’t have any guests booked at the inn for the coming weekend, or the weekend after that. “It’s so nice to suddenly have all this free time,” she even said at one point.
But Daniel didn’t get the message. Or he did get it but chose to ignore it.
After Daniel hung up, Liza quickly checked the weather forecast on her computer. Showers off and on until the weekend, maybe even through the weekend. At this rate, she’d never see him again.
Unless she took the initiative, she realized. After all, it was the twenty-first century. She could call Daniel back and ask him out on a date. He might even like that, she thought.
Then again, knowing Daniel, he might not.
Liza felt a bit stuck on the question and wandered into the kitchen to fix a cup of tea.
Claire was working at the table, measuring out a cup of brown sugar that she then added to a big metal bowl.
“What are you making?” Liza asked as she put the kettle on.
“Banana Crunch Muffins. I thought I would make a batch and put them in the freezer, in case we get another invasion of bicycle enthusiasts.”
The cyclists not only liked bananas but any food that included the fruit. They had practically inhaled Claire’s banana pancakes, bread, and muffins.
“Good idea. Everybody loves them.”
Everybody . . . including Daniel, she suddenly remembered. In fact, he’d said those were his favorite among Claire’s list of delicious confections.
“Can I help?” Liza asked. “I’d like to see how you make them.”
“I’d be happy to show you.” Claire smiled at her. “Put on an apron and you can take charge of this bowl.”
Liza didn’t often ask to help Claire with the cooking. The kitchen was Claire’s domain, and she rarely seemed to need any help. Besides, Liza wasn’t much of a cook. But since coming to the inn—and being around Claire—she’d become more interested in what went on in the kitchen.
She was particularly interested in this recipe, because the confection would give her the perfect excuse to see Daniel; she could even say that she had a hand in the baking.
The two women worked together, mixing ingredients and preparing a double recipe of batter. The pans came out of the oven and cooled on racks at one end of the long table. The sugary, buttery, nutty scent was nearly overpowering.
Claire sat at the table, waiting for the last trays to finish while Liza washed up the bowls and utensils. “We ought to taste test at least one before we put them in the freezer,” Claire suggested.
Liza turned from the sink and smiled at her partner.
“Absolutely. We want to make sure they meet our high standards.”
“All in a day’s work,” Claire agreed. She rose and put the kettle back on for more tea, then set out two china plates and cloth napkins, placing a small vase of rosebuds in between, making the table look as pleasing as if she were setting it for guests.
It didn’t really take much to make life a little more pleasant and even luxurious, Liza thought as she sat down with Claire to enjoy the product of their labors. It was small moments like this one that made her so happy she had stayed here and so glad she had Claire to share the work—and fun—of running the inn.
Claire cut her muffin in half and took a bite. “I was a little heavyhanded with the cinnamon, but they’re not bad,” she said after a moment.
Liza tasted hers. “It’s perfect. I love the extra cinnamon—gives it some kick.”
“Kick? What does that mean exactly?” Claire asked curiously. “I hear it on the cooking shows. But is that really something you want food to do—kick you back when you bite into it?”
Her interpretation of the term made Liza laugh. “You know what it means. You’re just pretending you don’t.”
Claire’s eyes twinkled over the edge of her teacup. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
After their enjoyable break was done, they packed up the cooled muffins for the freezer. “I’m going to save a few of these for Daniel,” Claire said, as if reading Liza’s mind. “He does love them. Will he be coming back to work soon?”
“He can’t work on the repairs with the rain. He’ll be back when it clears,” Liza told her. “Maybe I’ll just drop them off at his house. So they don’t get stale over the weekend.” Liza said this as casually as she could while she wiped off the table.
If Claire guessed Liza’s secret agenda, she gave no hint. “Good idea. I’ll put the package right over here, next to the coffeemaker.”
Liza just gazed at the package of muffins, her ticket to a much-longed-for visit with Daniel.
You are obviously head over heels with the man
, she told herself,
if you were willing to spend a few hours in a hot kitchen just to create an excuse to see him.
Was there still any question about that?
 
 
CLAIRE left early that afternoon, soon after the kitchen was set back in order. Liza had a quick nap, a bite of dinner, then showered and changed. She didn’t want to look as if she had spent hours in front of the mirror. That would be too obvious. But she did want to look attractive. It was a fine line.
She finally settled on a pair of good jeans and a peasant-style cotton top. She put on very little makeup, but she did blow out her hair and wore it loose.
That will have to do, she decided. He’ll be so interested in the muffins, he won’t even notice the outfit.
She headed for the far side of the island. The drive to Thompson’s Bend seemed shorter this time. Liza turned down Hasty Lane and soon arrived at Daniel’s cottage.
His truck was parked in front, and the windows glowed with golden light. He was definitely in there, she decided, even though it was a Friday night.
She suddenly lost her nerve and sat behind the wheel, undecided about actually turning the engine off. The paper bag of baked goods on the passenger seat beside her suddenly seemed a dangerous, even terrifying, sight.
Was it too pushy to just drop over like this? Was she assuming too much?
Liza took a deep breath, recalling how warm and even sweet Daniel had been acting toward her lately. There was no reason to think he wouldn’t be pleased to see her.
After a few deep breaths, Liza gathered her courage again, shut off the engine, and got out of her car, taking the bag of muffins with her.

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