Shades of violet, p.12
Shades of Violet, page 12
Cruella Claire had recounted the events of the Cozy Corner hullabaloo so many times I almost regretted not being there. Almost. And that was only because seeing Duchess run off with the scandalous barbecue while the rest of Shady Gully looked on in envy would have been wonderfully entertaining.
Still, I’d paid for skipping the shindig, as Bella had skulked home in an exaggerated pout, and only to gather a few changes of clothes and toiletries.
She’d addressed me with a derisive scoff. “Where are my baby pictures? Or did you even bother to keep any over the years?”
I’d pointed at the end table in the living room, indicating the pull-out shelves. She’d hurriedly rifled through the photos, her face softening here and there. I’d forced myself to remain still, indifferent, although I’d longed to know which images had moved her to sentimentality.
After pocketing a few photos, Bella had crammed the box back into the end table drawer. “I’ll be at Uncle Wolf’s.”
“I thought you were staying with Micah?”
“I am. I go back and forth.” Her body had pivoted gracefully, and her long, dark hair swished as she’d walked out the door.
Afterwards, I’d sat quietly for several minutes, listening for the sound of Luke’s truck. The angry squeal of tires indicated she’d been alone, as Luke would never drive so recklessly. For some inexplicable reason, this of all things, endeared him to me.
Luke was steady and reserved. Stable. Nothing like Mitch, who’d always been driven by his need to control and his random emotional outbursts. So much for marrying someone like Daddy, I thought.
When I was sure Bella had gone, I removed the box of photos from the end table drawer. At the top of the stack, I found several of me. Feeding her, holding her on my lap, dressing Barbie dolls while she watched beside me, wide-eyed and enchanted.
I mechanically replaced the lid on the box and returned it to the drawer. I tried not to fixate on why she’d only taken photos of my mother—her Mamaw Peony—and her beloved Uncle Wolf.
And why she hadn’t taken a single one of me.
As I pulled into the Shady Gully Recreation Center the sun shone brightly to match the festivities. I immediately felt underdressed as a covey of girls Bella’s age fluttered about in spring-toned dresses.
Even the sound of my clunker car seemed inappropriate and obtrusive. I congratulated myself on bothering to take the spinning dome light off.
I tucked my red blouse into my black slacks, which had wrinkled on the drive, and swiped away a few strands of hair that had escaped my ponytail. No doubt Bella would wince at the sight of me. If not for the brief glimpse of the determined Fireman through the recreation center’s full-length windows, I’d have turned and fled. But the heartbroken tyke was trying, thanks in part to Luke’s shaggy-haired brother, so I had no choice but to push on.
I retrieved the small gift from the backseat and headed inside with a dreadful feeling in the pit of my stomach. Upon entering, a hostess asked my name, and directed me to the designated banquet room. Surprised to see a number of other events taking place, I marveled at the success of the thriving venue. “Right this way,” the peppy hostess urged.
We passed a cozy bar where jingling glasses mixed with the sound of indistinct sports humming from a flat screen at the center of the room. “That’s the Magnolia Bar,” the young woman said over her shoulder. “The Azalea Room is just past this hallway. It’s my favorite. Wait till you see the gorgeous views of the pond.”
“Uh huh.” I continued to gawk at the interior of Luke’s ambitious community center. The kid’s imagination erupted in the form of massive chandeliers hanging from twenty-foot ceilings. Five-inch crown molding festooned both the floors and the tops of the walls, and elaborate wainscoting adorned the main foyer.
Gorgeous murals drew the eye throughout the venue, and dapper hostesses with smiles plastered on their shiny faces dashed about with purpose. “Is this the first time you’ve seen it?”
“Uh. Yeah. From the inside.”
“We’re shutting everything down for Luke’s wedding. His party will have the whole place to themselves.”
“Oh. Well, the bride is my—”
“There you are!” Fireman, bursting with excitement, rushed over as he pushed a cart of glassware toward the Azalea Room. Dressed in black vest and trousers like the rest of the staff, it appeared as if he’d taken Luke’s brother’s advice to a fanciful level.
“Look at you.” I shook my head, astonished.
“I’ll show her the way, Candace.” He turned to the hostess. “I got you covered.”
“Oh, bless you, cutie pie. You’re our superhero today.” As she pinched his cheek, he leaned into her with a widening smile.
I raised my eyebrow, noting the way he watched her back side as she returned to the greeting station. I straightened his deep purple bowtie. “Come on, cutie pie, let’s get this over with.”
I trailed behind his jangling cart of champagne glasses and assorted juices until we reached a massive double door embellished with elaborate carvings of azalea trees, gray wolves, and other foliage and wildlife unique to the region.
“Here you go.” When Fireman opened the doors the sounds of giggling women of various ages hit me like a Mack truck. “What can I get you to drink?”
“Huh?” I looked at him oddly.
“Heyyyyyy, there you are!” A beautiful auburn-haired young woman wearing a pink dress rounded on Fireman and planted a wet kiss on his forehead. “Did they have—?”
“Watermelon.” He proudly held up the juice. “Yes.”
Several of the girls grew excited as Fireman unloaded the cart of champagne and juice, carefully lining the bottles along a banquet table decorated with pink, purple, and lavender flowers.
“Y’all have to try this,” the young woman insisted as she instructed Fireman and the other male server how to mix the watermelon concoction into bubbling glasses of champagne.
“I think I’d rather have a regular mimosa,” said Micah.
Fireman garnished a few of the glasses with precisely cut slices of watermelon and presented them to the women with a twist and a flourish. As he began mixing a mimosa with orange juice and champagne, Robin, Desi’s pal and always the boss-lady, appeared stern. She took the bottle of champagne away from Fireman. “You’re only allowed to pour the juice.”
“Just put the bottle of champagne on the table,” a shapely blonde suggested. “We’ll do that part.” As the young women dissolved into a rambunctious sequence of giggles, a high-blush spread across Fireman’s cheeks.
The room smelled heavenly, bursting with the scent of bacon, spicy cheeses, and a variety of peppers. My stomach rumbled at the sight of the golden frittatas resting in warmers. Usually, my breakfast came in the form of a bar that tasted like packed compost. Despite my ambivalence over being present today, my appetite perked at the sights and aromas of the elaborate smorgasbord before me.
While Fireman poured juice and filled our plates with frittatas, I expanded my assessment beyond the food in the room. Before I had a chance to process much, I fielded an incoming mother-in-law to be and her loyal sidekick, Robin.
“Meadow, I’m so glad you’re here,” Desi almost sang. “How do you think everything looks? We tried to tie in the wedding colors with the violets and pinks—”
“It’s beautiful,” I said quickly, hoping to nip the wedding talk in the bud. Never mind that it was a bridal shower.
“How about a mimosa?” asked Robin. Serious. Matter of fact.
“Sure. I’ll take one of those watermelon concoctions.”
Desi surveyed the room, as if checking the measure of everyone’s joy. Pleased with the levels, she turned back to me. “They’re something, aren’t they?”
I spied my daughter, certainly something, with her hair tied up in lavender ribbons and her head bent toward Micah’s and Violet’s. My daughter’s face never ceased to astound me. How many times I’d been hurt over something she’d said, some slight that had crushed my heart and stolen my sleep for weeks, and then just like that she’d walk in, and my wounded spirit would light up at the sight of her beautiful face. My anger and resentment instantly wiped away with the singular curve of her extraordinary, warmly familiar profile.
I tried to catch her eye, suddenly overcome with the magnitude of this season in her life, but she appeared oblivious to my presence. I watched with longing as her face brightened, and she dipped her head back in gaiety over something Micah had said.
“When did young girls, or I should say, young women, become so gorgeous?” Desi mused. “I mean, I look around at all these long-haired, stunning females, and I don’t remember ever looking like that.”
Robin approached, handing me the watermelon mimosa. I took a long sip, which was actually more like a swig, but Desi didn’t notice as she was too busy ogling the hotties. Feeling suddenly spontaneous, the fizz of the champagne churning in my stomach, I decided to try. I’d do it for Bella. Hopefully, she’d notice my effort. “Well, we didn’t have YouTube back then, so we never learned how to put make-up on like that.”
Robin fixated on her own daughter, Violet, and smiled wistfully. “Remember when Sunny did makeovers on us, Desi?”
“Yes. I can still smell the wet paint from her Battle of Waterloo painting.”
They turned to each other then, connecting without words, leaving me adrift and awkward as I tried to decipher the nuances and language of their intimate history.
“Okay, ladies! It’s time to play games.” Micah hurried everyone to the long banquet table, insisting Bella position herself at the center. “You sit here. We want to look at you when you answer these questions.”
Everyone laughed uproariously, while I remained clueless as to these games they spoke of with sly winks and barely contained snickers. I didn’t like games. And I didn’t like answering questions. This bridal shower had suddenly taken a bad turn.
Fireman, still blushing with pleasure over the abundant female attention, continued to set plates of fruit and warm frittatas in front of each of us. When Violet settled herself next to me, I swallowed back a wave of panic. Still haunted by my mortifying true confession, I found it hard to maintain eye contact with the dignified young woman.
“Hello, Meadow.” Violet had donned a little makeup for the occasion, and the pale pink lipstick she wore complemented her porcelain complexion beautifully. She wore her hair in what I’m sure was meant to be a tight, no-nonsense bun, but by now it had loosened, transforming errant strands of hair in a way that only enhanced her stunning bone structure. “How are you?” Taken in by her easy and kind demeanor, I tried to put my shame and humiliation aside. “I thought you’d want to see this.” She leaned in with her phone. “I took a picture of Bella’s dress at the fitting.”
As Micah passed out cards for the guests, I gaped at the image in front of me. Bella, standing atop a pedestal in a glowing white wedding dress. A little sound escaped my throat as I poured over the picture, intent on memorizing each and every detail.
“I’ll send it to your phone,” Violet said knowingly.
I nodded, incapable of pulling my gaze away. When I finally lifted my head, I saw Bella’s blue eyes zero in on my own green ones, probing expectantly. I mouthed, “Beautiful.”
My daughter smiled at me, and for just an instant, I saw a flash of that dark-haired little girl watching in awe as her mother dressed Barbie dolls.
“Okay, let’s see how well we know the bride.” Micah read from a card, “First one. Is she a dog or a cat person?”
“She’s a dog person.” Fireman piped from behind the serving station. “She likes cats too, but dogs are her jam.” His remark evoked a round of laughter from the ladies.
“Correct.” Micah checked off her card. “This one is going to be tougher. Who knows where Bella and Luke went on their first date?”
“Ooh! Ooh!” yipped a few of the girls. “I know.”
“They went into Belle Maison for dinner at the fancy Italian restaurant.” This from the auburn-haired girl. “I don’t remember the name of it though.”
“No, I don’t think so.” Desi cocked her head at Bella. “That’s not right, is it?”
Bella shook her head, prompting the assembly to fire off a number of other possibilities. I realized, rather regrettably, that I had no clue as to the whereabouts of my daughter’s first date with her betrothed.
“I have the correct answer right here.” Micah teased everyone with the card. “Y’all keep guessing.”
Fireman strolled to the table, topping off the blonde’s mimosa with a swish of orange juice. After setting a fresh bottle of champagne on the table, he turned to Bella. “I know the answer. You want me to tell them?”
She chuckled, clearly enjoying the attention.
“They had a picnic right here,” Fireman said. “Back when it was Cicada Stadium. Afterwards they shared a romantic stroll down Hummingbird Trail.” As the shower girls exclaimed over Fireman’s awesome intel, he looked quite pleased with himself. Bella winked at him in the affirmative.
“Really?” demanded the blonde, shocked. “Humph. Well, I guess the date went well seeing as how Luke turned it into this amazing Recreation Center.”
Hearty cackles abounded, including from Desi and Robin, who toasted one another.
“What is her least favorite chore?” Micah flipped the card.
“Washing dishes,” Fireman muttered again while dawdling at the table.
“That’s correct! Okay. Let’s switch to bride and groom trivia.” Micah pointed us to another card. “What’s the groom’s dream car?”
Fireman peered over Violet’s shoulder, mumbling as he added fresh strawberries to her plate. “Probably a minivan. Or maybe one of those dorky smart Fortwo cars..”
Violet and I chuckled aloud, entertained by Fireman’s participation. Whatever was fueling his gregarious remarks—whether it was a spike in testosterone or stolen sips of champagne—the kid was having a ball.
“Look at this one.” Violet indicated the game card. “Who says they’re sorry first? The bride or the groom?” She squinted across the table, mystified. “How in the world would we know that?”
The auburn-haired girl leaned over for the champagne bottle, a stray ringlet attractively framing her face. “My boyfriend always says he’s sorry first. I taught him that early in our relationship.”
Everyone laughed, and Robin nodded her agreement. “Same here, and that’s as it should be.”
Although Violet’s horrified muttering got lost amid the gaggle of giggles, I heard it loud and clear. When I sneaked a glance at her, she’d locked hard onto her mother, full of disapproval.
“Where are they going on their honeymoon?” Micah again.
“Oh, I know,” piped Desi. “They’re going to Santa Fe!” The party clapped and cheered with enthusiasm as the mother-of-the-groom got a correct answer.
I dropped my head, studying the remnants of my eggs, hoping no one expected anything of me. It occurred to me I knew none of these things about my daughter. Not her least favorite chore, her honeymoon plans, or even the confidences of her relationship with Luke.
I felt like an imposter. An interloper. I shouldn’t be here, mingling with Bella’s people. Her friends and future family. I belonged on The Creek, where I could nurse my hurt alone. I cleared my throat and tried to smile at Violet. “I’m going to the ladies’ room.”
But Violet hadn’t heard me, as she was so focused on her mother’s long-winded and overly animated story about the sheriff. Or Ricky.
After I gulped the last of my mimosa, I rose from the banquet table. Focusing on my escape, I headed straight for the heavy wooden double doors of the Azalea Room. They magically parted as a shiny staff member opened them for me, and I was at once grateful to be free of the chatter and the noise.
I fumbled unsteadily along the wainscoted hall, scanning each nook and cranny for a sign that promised a restroom. I made a wrong turn and nearly crashed into a waiter who carried a tray of cheese and stuffed mushrooms to the Magnolia Bar.
“Sorry. So sorry.”
“Geez lady,” he frowned. “Watch where you’re going.”
My feelings hurt, and his ridicule adding to my pain, I set off again, desperate to flee.
“Excuse me,” I gestured to Candace, the hostess at the entrance, but she was distracted as another party clustered around her desk.
Tears now came, unbidden, and I could feel myself unraveling. I swiped angrily at my eyes, mortified to see mascara staining my red blouse. I kept my head low, focusing on my wrinkled black slacks, hoping my wobbly legs would carry me to a safer place.
Not paying attention, I turned a corner too quickly—and ran straight into him.
I gasped aloud as his hands gripped my shoulders. Our eyes met. This man who’d upended my life when I’d been a mere child. This man who’d lied to my face, his blue eyes teasing with mischief and false promise. This man who’d skipped town, leaving me to fend for myself. And for his child.
Leaving me, a young, naïve woman from across the creek, right in the middle of Shady Gully’s biggest scandal.
Selfish. Liar. User. Cheater.
I wrapped my arms tightly around Mitch, vowing to never let him go again.
Finally, he’d come to rescue me.
Chapter Twelve
Shower Wars
Violet
Naturally, I’d jumped at the chance to be seated next to Bella’s mom, Meadow. Partly because she’d confided in me about her tumultuous relationship with Bella, but also because I thought that together, we could raise the art of deflecting attention to a whole new level.
I couldn’t explain it, but I felt an affinity with the exotically beautiful woman. Like me, she’d come to the table with some solid baggage. While my luggage was perfectly vacuum-packed and stowed-away, and I had Micah, Bella, and Aunt Desi in my corner—Meadow had no one.
Still, I’d paid for skipping the shindig, as Bella had skulked home in an exaggerated pout, and only to gather a few changes of clothes and toiletries.
She’d addressed me with a derisive scoff. “Where are my baby pictures? Or did you even bother to keep any over the years?”
I’d pointed at the end table in the living room, indicating the pull-out shelves. She’d hurriedly rifled through the photos, her face softening here and there. I’d forced myself to remain still, indifferent, although I’d longed to know which images had moved her to sentimentality.
After pocketing a few photos, Bella had crammed the box back into the end table drawer. “I’ll be at Uncle Wolf’s.”
“I thought you were staying with Micah?”
“I am. I go back and forth.” Her body had pivoted gracefully, and her long, dark hair swished as she’d walked out the door.
Afterwards, I’d sat quietly for several minutes, listening for the sound of Luke’s truck. The angry squeal of tires indicated she’d been alone, as Luke would never drive so recklessly. For some inexplicable reason, this of all things, endeared him to me.
Luke was steady and reserved. Stable. Nothing like Mitch, who’d always been driven by his need to control and his random emotional outbursts. So much for marrying someone like Daddy, I thought.
When I was sure Bella had gone, I removed the box of photos from the end table drawer. At the top of the stack, I found several of me. Feeding her, holding her on my lap, dressing Barbie dolls while she watched beside me, wide-eyed and enchanted.
I mechanically replaced the lid on the box and returned it to the drawer. I tried not to fixate on why she’d only taken photos of my mother—her Mamaw Peony—and her beloved Uncle Wolf.
And why she hadn’t taken a single one of me.
As I pulled into the Shady Gully Recreation Center the sun shone brightly to match the festivities. I immediately felt underdressed as a covey of girls Bella’s age fluttered about in spring-toned dresses.
Even the sound of my clunker car seemed inappropriate and obtrusive. I congratulated myself on bothering to take the spinning dome light off.
I tucked my red blouse into my black slacks, which had wrinkled on the drive, and swiped away a few strands of hair that had escaped my ponytail. No doubt Bella would wince at the sight of me. If not for the brief glimpse of the determined Fireman through the recreation center’s full-length windows, I’d have turned and fled. But the heartbroken tyke was trying, thanks in part to Luke’s shaggy-haired brother, so I had no choice but to push on.
I retrieved the small gift from the backseat and headed inside with a dreadful feeling in the pit of my stomach. Upon entering, a hostess asked my name, and directed me to the designated banquet room. Surprised to see a number of other events taking place, I marveled at the success of the thriving venue. “Right this way,” the peppy hostess urged.
We passed a cozy bar where jingling glasses mixed with the sound of indistinct sports humming from a flat screen at the center of the room. “That’s the Magnolia Bar,” the young woman said over her shoulder. “The Azalea Room is just past this hallway. It’s my favorite. Wait till you see the gorgeous views of the pond.”
“Uh huh.” I continued to gawk at the interior of Luke’s ambitious community center. The kid’s imagination erupted in the form of massive chandeliers hanging from twenty-foot ceilings. Five-inch crown molding festooned both the floors and the tops of the walls, and elaborate wainscoting adorned the main foyer.
Gorgeous murals drew the eye throughout the venue, and dapper hostesses with smiles plastered on their shiny faces dashed about with purpose. “Is this the first time you’ve seen it?”
“Uh. Yeah. From the inside.”
“We’re shutting everything down for Luke’s wedding. His party will have the whole place to themselves.”
“Oh. Well, the bride is my—”
“There you are!” Fireman, bursting with excitement, rushed over as he pushed a cart of glassware toward the Azalea Room. Dressed in black vest and trousers like the rest of the staff, it appeared as if he’d taken Luke’s brother’s advice to a fanciful level.
“Look at you.” I shook my head, astonished.
“I’ll show her the way, Candace.” He turned to the hostess. “I got you covered.”
“Oh, bless you, cutie pie. You’re our superhero today.” As she pinched his cheek, he leaned into her with a widening smile.
I raised my eyebrow, noting the way he watched her back side as she returned to the greeting station. I straightened his deep purple bowtie. “Come on, cutie pie, let’s get this over with.”
I trailed behind his jangling cart of champagne glasses and assorted juices until we reached a massive double door embellished with elaborate carvings of azalea trees, gray wolves, and other foliage and wildlife unique to the region.
“Here you go.” When Fireman opened the doors the sounds of giggling women of various ages hit me like a Mack truck. “What can I get you to drink?”
“Huh?” I looked at him oddly.
“Heyyyyyy, there you are!” A beautiful auburn-haired young woman wearing a pink dress rounded on Fireman and planted a wet kiss on his forehead. “Did they have—?”
“Watermelon.” He proudly held up the juice. “Yes.”
Several of the girls grew excited as Fireman unloaded the cart of champagne and juice, carefully lining the bottles along a banquet table decorated with pink, purple, and lavender flowers.
“Y’all have to try this,” the young woman insisted as she instructed Fireman and the other male server how to mix the watermelon concoction into bubbling glasses of champagne.
“I think I’d rather have a regular mimosa,” said Micah.
Fireman garnished a few of the glasses with precisely cut slices of watermelon and presented them to the women with a twist and a flourish. As he began mixing a mimosa with orange juice and champagne, Robin, Desi’s pal and always the boss-lady, appeared stern. She took the bottle of champagne away from Fireman. “You’re only allowed to pour the juice.”
“Just put the bottle of champagne on the table,” a shapely blonde suggested. “We’ll do that part.” As the young women dissolved into a rambunctious sequence of giggles, a high-blush spread across Fireman’s cheeks.
The room smelled heavenly, bursting with the scent of bacon, spicy cheeses, and a variety of peppers. My stomach rumbled at the sight of the golden frittatas resting in warmers. Usually, my breakfast came in the form of a bar that tasted like packed compost. Despite my ambivalence over being present today, my appetite perked at the sights and aromas of the elaborate smorgasbord before me.
While Fireman poured juice and filled our plates with frittatas, I expanded my assessment beyond the food in the room. Before I had a chance to process much, I fielded an incoming mother-in-law to be and her loyal sidekick, Robin.
“Meadow, I’m so glad you’re here,” Desi almost sang. “How do you think everything looks? We tried to tie in the wedding colors with the violets and pinks—”
“It’s beautiful,” I said quickly, hoping to nip the wedding talk in the bud. Never mind that it was a bridal shower.
“How about a mimosa?” asked Robin. Serious. Matter of fact.
“Sure. I’ll take one of those watermelon concoctions.”
Desi surveyed the room, as if checking the measure of everyone’s joy. Pleased with the levels, she turned back to me. “They’re something, aren’t they?”
I spied my daughter, certainly something, with her hair tied up in lavender ribbons and her head bent toward Micah’s and Violet’s. My daughter’s face never ceased to astound me. How many times I’d been hurt over something she’d said, some slight that had crushed my heart and stolen my sleep for weeks, and then just like that she’d walk in, and my wounded spirit would light up at the sight of her beautiful face. My anger and resentment instantly wiped away with the singular curve of her extraordinary, warmly familiar profile.
I tried to catch her eye, suddenly overcome with the magnitude of this season in her life, but she appeared oblivious to my presence. I watched with longing as her face brightened, and she dipped her head back in gaiety over something Micah had said.
“When did young girls, or I should say, young women, become so gorgeous?” Desi mused. “I mean, I look around at all these long-haired, stunning females, and I don’t remember ever looking like that.”
Robin approached, handing me the watermelon mimosa. I took a long sip, which was actually more like a swig, but Desi didn’t notice as she was too busy ogling the hotties. Feeling suddenly spontaneous, the fizz of the champagne churning in my stomach, I decided to try. I’d do it for Bella. Hopefully, she’d notice my effort. “Well, we didn’t have YouTube back then, so we never learned how to put make-up on like that.”
Robin fixated on her own daughter, Violet, and smiled wistfully. “Remember when Sunny did makeovers on us, Desi?”
“Yes. I can still smell the wet paint from her Battle of Waterloo painting.”
They turned to each other then, connecting without words, leaving me adrift and awkward as I tried to decipher the nuances and language of their intimate history.
“Okay, ladies! It’s time to play games.” Micah hurried everyone to the long banquet table, insisting Bella position herself at the center. “You sit here. We want to look at you when you answer these questions.”
Everyone laughed uproariously, while I remained clueless as to these games they spoke of with sly winks and barely contained snickers. I didn’t like games. And I didn’t like answering questions. This bridal shower had suddenly taken a bad turn.
Fireman, still blushing with pleasure over the abundant female attention, continued to set plates of fruit and warm frittatas in front of each of us. When Violet settled herself next to me, I swallowed back a wave of panic. Still haunted by my mortifying true confession, I found it hard to maintain eye contact with the dignified young woman.
“Hello, Meadow.” Violet had donned a little makeup for the occasion, and the pale pink lipstick she wore complemented her porcelain complexion beautifully. She wore her hair in what I’m sure was meant to be a tight, no-nonsense bun, but by now it had loosened, transforming errant strands of hair in a way that only enhanced her stunning bone structure. “How are you?” Taken in by her easy and kind demeanor, I tried to put my shame and humiliation aside. “I thought you’d want to see this.” She leaned in with her phone. “I took a picture of Bella’s dress at the fitting.”
As Micah passed out cards for the guests, I gaped at the image in front of me. Bella, standing atop a pedestal in a glowing white wedding dress. A little sound escaped my throat as I poured over the picture, intent on memorizing each and every detail.
“I’ll send it to your phone,” Violet said knowingly.
I nodded, incapable of pulling my gaze away. When I finally lifted my head, I saw Bella’s blue eyes zero in on my own green ones, probing expectantly. I mouthed, “Beautiful.”
My daughter smiled at me, and for just an instant, I saw a flash of that dark-haired little girl watching in awe as her mother dressed Barbie dolls.
“Okay, let’s see how well we know the bride.” Micah read from a card, “First one. Is she a dog or a cat person?”
“She’s a dog person.” Fireman piped from behind the serving station. “She likes cats too, but dogs are her jam.” His remark evoked a round of laughter from the ladies.
“Correct.” Micah checked off her card. “This one is going to be tougher. Who knows where Bella and Luke went on their first date?”
“Ooh! Ooh!” yipped a few of the girls. “I know.”
“They went into Belle Maison for dinner at the fancy Italian restaurant.” This from the auburn-haired girl. “I don’t remember the name of it though.”
“No, I don’t think so.” Desi cocked her head at Bella. “That’s not right, is it?”
Bella shook her head, prompting the assembly to fire off a number of other possibilities. I realized, rather regrettably, that I had no clue as to the whereabouts of my daughter’s first date with her betrothed.
“I have the correct answer right here.” Micah teased everyone with the card. “Y’all keep guessing.”
Fireman strolled to the table, topping off the blonde’s mimosa with a swish of orange juice. After setting a fresh bottle of champagne on the table, he turned to Bella. “I know the answer. You want me to tell them?”
She chuckled, clearly enjoying the attention.
“They had a picnic right here,” Fireman said. “Back when it was Cicada Stadium. Afterwards they shared a romantic stroll down Hummingbird Trail.” As the shower girls exclaimed over Fireman’s awesome intel, he looked quite pleased with himself. Bella winked at him in the affirmative.
“Really?” demanded the blonde, shocked. “Humph. Well, I guess the date went well seeing as how Luke turned it into this amazing Recreation Center.”
Hearty cackles abounded, including from Desi and Robin, who toasted one another.
“What is her least favorite chore?” Micah flipped the card.
“Washing dishes,” Fireman muttered again while dawdling at the table.
“That’s correct! Okay. Let’s switch to bride and groom trivia.” Micah pointed us to another card. “What’s the groom’s dream car?”
Fireman peered over Violet’s shoulder, mumbling as he added fresh strawberries to her plate. “Probably a minivan. Or maybe one of those dorky smart Fortwo cars..”
Violet and I chuckled aloud, entertained by Fireman’s participation. Whatever was fueling his gregarious remarks—whether it was a spike in testosterone or stolen sips of champagne—the kid was having a ball.
“Look at this one.” Violet indicated the game card. “Who says they’re sorry first? The bride or the groom?” She squinted across the table, mystified. “How in the world would we know that?”
The auburn-haired girl leaned over for the champagne bottle, a stray ringlet attractively framing her face. “My boyfriend always says he’s sorry first. I taught him that early in our relationship.”
Everyone laughed, and Robin nodded her agreement. “Same here, and that’s as it should be.”
Although Violet’s horrified muttering got lost amid the gaggle of giggles, I heard it loud and clear. When I sneaked a glance at her, she’d locked hard onto her mother, full of disapproval.
“Where are they going on their honeymoon?” Micah again.
“Oh, I know,” piped Desi. “They’re going to Santa Fe!” The party clapped and cheered with enthusiasm as the mother-of-the-groom got a correct answer.
I dropped my head, studying the remnants of my eggs, hoping no one expected anything of me. It occurred to me I knew none of these things about my daughter. Not her least favorite chore, her honeymoon plans, or even the confidences of her relationship with Luke.
I felt like an imposter. An interloper. I shouldn’t be here, mingling with Bella’s people. Her friends and future family. I belonged on The Creek, where I could nurse my hurt alone. I cleared my throat and tried to smile at Violet. “I’m going to the ladies’ room.”
But Violet hadn’t heard me, as she was so focused on her mother’s long-winded and overly animated story about the sheriff. Or Ricky.
After I gulped the last of my mimosa, I rose from the banquet table. Focusing on my escape, I headed straight for the heavy wooden double doors of the Azalea Room. They magically parted as a shiny staff member opened them for me, and I was at once grateful to be free of the chatter and the noise.
I fumbled unsteadily along the wainscoted hall, scanning each nook and cranny for a sign that promised a restroom. I made a wrong turn and nearly crashed into a waiter who carried a tray of cheese and stuffed mushrooms to the Magnolia Bar.
“Sorry. So sorry.”
“Geez lady,” he frowned. “Watch where you’re going.”
My feelings hurt, and his ridicule adding to my pain, I set off again, desperate to flee.
“Excuse me,” I gestured to Candace, the hostess at the entrance, but she was distracted as another party clustered around her desk.
Tears now came, unbidden, and I could feel myself unraveling. I swiped angrily at my eyes, mortified to see mascara staining my red blouse. I kept my head low, focusing on my wrinkled black slacks, hoping my wobbly legs would carry me to a safer place.
Not paying attention, I turned a corner too quickly—and ran straight into him.
I gasped aloud as his hands gripped my shoulders. Our eyes met. This man who’d upended my life when I’d been a mere child. This man who’d lied to my face, his blue eyes teasing with mischief and false promise. This man who’d skipped town, leaving me to fend for myself. And for his child.
Leaving me, a young, naïve woman from across the creek, right in the middle of Shady Gully’s biggest scandal.
Selfish. Liar. User. Cheater.
I wrapped my arms tightly around Mitch, vowing to never let him go again.
Finally, he’d come to rescue me.
Chapter Twelve
Shower Wars
Violet
Naturally, I’d jumped at the chance to be seated next to Bella’s mom, Meadow. Partly because she’d confided in me about her tumultuous relationship with Bella, but also because I thought that together, we could raise the art of deflecting attention to a whole new level.
I couldn’t explain it, but I felt an affinity with the exotically beautiful woman. Like me, she’d come to the table with some solid baggage. While my luggage was perfectly vacuum-packed and stowed-away, and I had Micah, Bella, and Aunt Desi in my corner—Meadow had no one.
