The Wedding Shop (29 page)

H
ALEY

H
er keys. She just needed to find her keys and she'd be off. Ten till six. She might be a few minutes late to Cole's, but she'd called Charlotte this afternoon for more advice on how to break in with designers and they ended up talking about life, love, and God.

Having met her once and talked to her on the phone twice, Haley made a heart connection with Charlotte. She admired her. Already called her friend.

In the light of Cole, Charlotte, and Mrs. Elliot's ten-thousand-dollar check, Haley felt a breeze blowing through the dark tunnel that was Dax. She neared the end. Saw the light.

Downstairs, she found her keys on the kitchen island. At the refrigerator, Mom took out a bottle of water.

“Where are you headed?” she said. “Your dad and I were thinking of going out to dinner. There's a new vegetarian place on the east side of town.”

“Since when have I ever indicated I liked vegetarian?” Haley laughed. “I'm eating pizza.”

“By yourself?”

“If you must know, with Cole.”

“Is that wise?” Mom took a short swig of her water. “I know he's working with you on the
shop
. . .” There was definite 'tude when she said
shop
. “But if you hang out too much—”

“What, Mom? We might like each other? Maybe make out? Have a few laughs?”

“Fall in love.”

“I'm not going to fall in love with him, but so what if I did? He's a really great guy.”

“Look, I don't know what happened between you and Dax, but I know it tore you apart.” Mom used her intuition to shine her light behind Haley's closed doors. “Between your breakup, Tammy's death, reopening this crazy wedding
shop
, I think you're trying to capture something that's been lost. There's a danger of transferring affection to Cole, thinking it's love when it's not.”

“Mom, I'm fully aware of my breakup with Dax, of losing my best friend. And yes, opening the shop is very sentimental for me. And frustrating. But I'm not trying to capture anything. I'm trying to build something. A business. Cole is a friend. That's all.”

“If you're sure.”

“I'm sure. I already told him I didn't want a relationship.”

“No one ever accused you of not being honest.” Mom's soft laugh cracked open Haley's heart a wee bit to her. She was a perfectionist, an overachiever, and often more like a drill sergeant than a mom, but she loved her family.

“I'm sorry, Mom.”

She popped wide eyes at Haley. “For what?”

“Judging you.”

“Judging me?” Mom swigged from her water bottle, keeping her gaze on Haley.

“Yeah, thinking you didn't really love us, that your career and success were more important.”

“Is that how I appeared to you?” Mom held steady, never one to back down from a confrontation or hard truth.

“Pretty much. Didn't think you had much use for a girl either. You preferred the boys.”

“Haley, my goodness, the reason we had five kids was because I refused to give up on having a girl.”

“So I was just something to achieve?”

Mom came around the island, reaching for Haley, but hesitated and lowered her hand. “I wanted a daughter. My relationship with my mother was always so special. We were very close.”

“But from my chair, you never wanted a relationship with me other than parent-child. You took good care of me, Mom. Not denying that, but I was a would-be boy until junior high. I never got the impression you wanted a daughter.”

“Wow, well, then I apologize.” Mom's eyes swam with her confession. “I wanted a daughter, though I never considered if I'd be a good mother of one.”

Haley regarded her, then laughed softly. “No one ever said you'd get a good daughter either.”

“You are a great daughter. I'm very proud of you.” Mom pressed her hand over her heart. “I'm sorry if you felt unwanted or unloved. That was never, ever in my heart.”

Haley jiggled her keys. Time ticked away and Cole was waiting. “All things work together for good. I'm not sure I'd ever found God without the little hurts I carried.”

“Hurts? Oh, Haley—”

“Mom, it's fine. I'm good, really.”

Mom gently took hold of Haley's arm. “I love you. Please know how much. You were wanted. If anyone should feel unwanted, it's Seth. When the ultrasound told us it was a boy, I was ready to send him back.”

“Don't tell him. Abigail would have a field day psychoanalyzing that. Seth adores you. He's a true mama's boy.”

“I know. And I can't imagine life without him. Or you.”

The sentiment hung between them. These spontaneous words were more than they'd shared in a long time. Probably since Haley
was in high school and brokenhearted over Brandon Lutz—who went to homecoming with Misty Stone instead of her. Mom was a trooper during that dastardly teen drama.

“So . . .” Mom drew a deep breath, twirling her water bottle between her hands. “H-how's the
shop
?”

Haley grinned. She was trying. “Um, good. I think. We still don't have our permits. It's been six weeks.” Haley glanced at the stove clock. She was officially late.

“What about money?”

“I'm getting there. Believe it or not, a woman came in today and gave me a check for ten grand.”

Mom's eyes popped wide. “You're kidding.”

“She was one of Miss Cora's brides. Said the shop was important to her and she was glad someone was reopening it. Mrs. Peabody, Linus Peabody's aunt, gave me money too.”

Mom took a swig of water. “You know Linus was the one who spearheaded Akron coming to Heart's Bend.”

“Cole mentioned it. Do you think Linus might be behind the delayed permits?”

“Would not surprise me.”

“Okay, I might talk to Cole about it tonight.” Haley started for the door. “Thanks, Mom, for asking about the shop. I know you're against it.”

“I have no affection for it, but . . .” She exhaled. “I'm not against you.”

“Then can I ask what you have against the wedding shop?”

She hesitated, such a rare thing from Dr. Morgan, who was sharp and quick. “You're jiggling your keys. You must be late.”

“Cole can wait.”

Mom headed out of the kitchen. “You best get going. Your father will be here soon, ready to eat. Have a good time.”

“Are you ever going to tell me?” Haley said.

“I don't know,” she said without turning around. “There are times when I'm not really sure I know myself.”

Cole greeted Haley at the front door in his bare feet, his Tennessee Volunteers T-shirt clinging to his shoulders and swinging loose about his waist.

“You're on chopping duty.”

“Oooh, didn't you get the memo?” Haley said. “I don't do chopping. Or mixing. Or sautéing or cooking in general.” She set her backpack down by the front door, removing her gloves, still a bit chilled from the ride out. But still feeling the warmth of the honest moment with Mom.

“Well, today you're on chopping duty. Kick off your shoes. Make yourself at home.”

“If you want me to make myself at home, I'm not chopping anything.” She wiggled out of her boots and followed him to the kitchen where he'd set out veggies and a cutting board on the quartz counter.

“This is your station.” He passed her a large knife and turned back to his pizza dough with a glance at her. “You look good.”

“Thank you.” She fluffed her hair free of the biker-helmet mash.

Her gaze met his. He was smiling, watching her, a dancing light in his eyes. She reached for the knife, her pulse thumping a little faster.

Keep it simple, easy breezy.

“So, what do I do here?” She sat on the stool, noticing the guitar in a glass case stuck to the wall over the dining table. “Hey, is that the guitar you used to play when we were but wild-eyed teens?”

He laughed. “Yeah, that's the Fender Stratocaster.”

“I remember Tammy telling me about it. Said it was worth some ridiculous amount of money.”

“Dad bought it for us at an estate auction. It's worth way more than he paid. I don't think the auctioneer knew what he had.”

“Why'd you put it in a glass case? Don't you want to play it?”

“Hey, sister,” Cole said, motioning to the pile of veggies in front of Haley. “Get to chopping.”

Nice avoid. Haley considered pressing, but where the senior Danner was concerned Cole had little to share.

Haley stared at the knife and the pepper, tomato, and onion waiting to be sliced and diced. “Do you think Linus is holding up our permits?”

“There's a good chance. But he's smart enough to keep his fingerprints off any shenanigans.” Cole worked the pizza dough from a large bowl, dumping it onto the floured countertop.

“Should we do something? I mean, if he's holding up the works, then he can't expect me to have the shop renovated by the end of April.”

“Sure he can. He's making up the rules as we go along.”

“Then I'm going to see him tomorrow.”

“I can stop by in the morning.” Cole peeked at her. “Check on it for you.”

“Thanks, but I'll go.”

“Are you sure? I know folks in the permit office, I know Linus—”

“I don't need to be rescued, Cole.”

“Never said you did.”

Haley sighed.
Lower your defenses, girl.
“I should do it, don't you think? This is my fight.”

He sighed with a soft nod. “Yeah, sure. Just, you know, let me know if you need anything.”

“I need some pizza. That's what I need.” Haley set down the knife, watching Cole for a sec. Did he seem disappointed? He'd already done so much for her that she figured she should take on some battles for herself. It's not like she needed him in the fray with
her. If she was going to be a businesswoman in Heart's Bend, she needed to learn the system. “S-so how'd you learn to make pizza?”

“My grandmother was Italian. She taught us boys to cook.”

“We had a cook when I was growing up. Remember her? Hilda.”

“I do.” Cole made a face. “She wasn't that good.”

“You're telling me. I swear she served boiled bark and roasted pine cones one time. Mom loved it. Did you know there's a new vegetarian restaurant in town? The parents are trying it out tonight.” Haley shivered.

“Ever wonder how you came from them?”

“Almost daily when I was a kid. Dad I understood, but Mom? The only two women in a house of men and we could not have been more opposite. But Mom and I had a good chat about that tonight.” Haley rested her chin in her hand. “It was good.”

“Yeah?” Cole glanced at her, working the dough, then stretching it out on one of three pizza stones. “Hey, you're not chopping.”

“I told you, I don't chop.”

He shook flour from his hands and walked around the island, standing behind Haley. “Take the knife . . .” He cupped his right hand around hers, taking up the utensil. His hand was soft with flour, warm, covering hers. A buzzing pulse shivered up her arm.

“Take the pepper.” Cole set the vegetable on the chopping block, molded his left hand over Haley's, and aimed the knife at the deep green skin. The scent of his skin, of his shirt, awakened cautious desires. “Curl your fingers back so you don't cut them off. Good.”

He surrounded her. With his body, with his voice, with the gentle motion of chopping a pepper. His breath grazed the side of her cheek and, at one point, she felt lost in his presence.

But when she glanced up at him, he was focused on chopping. “See?” he said, looking at her as she looked at him.

“Y-yes, I see.” But nothing about cutting peppers. She saw the cut of his jaw with the end-of-day beard, the sweet bow of his lips,
the endless blue meadows in his eyes, and the steadiness of his countenance.