A Lowcountry Wedding (46 page)

Atticus slipped in the front door without anyone’s noticing him. Men and women were buzzing everywhere like worker bees, traipsing across paper walkways that protected the newly buffed floors. He ducked his head and walked quickly down the hall to Harper’s office, where Mamaw had told him the girls had congregated when she called him to come.

He knocked three times, firmly, on the office door.

The door opened and he was face-to-face with Harper. She looked trim and tidy, but her face was chalky with fatigue. He
was sorry to see that. She should look happy the day before her wedding festivities began. Elated.

“Come in,” she said in a flat voice, void of her usual charm.

Across the room, Dora and Carson sat side by side on the settee. Neither of them smiled when they saw him. Nor was Mamaw in the room. He could have used her support. His heart sank as he walked in, but his shoulders were straight with determination. He knew what he had to say.

Harper shut the door and followed him across the room. When they reached the group, she said graciously, “Won’t you sit down? There’s tea. Would you like a glass?”

Always the proper hostess, he thought. “No, thanks. I prefer to stand.”

Harper’s brow rose but she accepted his decision and went to sit in the chair beside Carson. Atticus faced his three half sisters. They made a united front, and he’d never felt more the outsider. He took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I was. There were many times over the past months I wanted to, believe me, I really did. But the lie had grown so big I couldn’t tell you without you feeling”—he paused, then continued with regret—“without you feeling exactly the way you do now. This isn’t what I wanted to happen. Your grandmother and I both had the best intentions when this ruse started. And, ladies”—he paused, then said with heart—“
Sisters
, I hope you know I care about you. Deeply. I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. I realize now that the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

They all were looking at him, hands folded in their laps, sitting on the edge of their seats, listening. But not one of them spoke. If this was his jury, he’d just been found guilty. They
were cutting him off without uttering a word. And he couldn’t blame them. He felt embarrassed, ashamed, alone.

“I’ll go. I’ll make arrangements with a local minister to officiate the weddings, so I won’t be leaving you stuck at the eleventh hour. There’s just one more thing.” He lifted the plastic grocery bag in his hands and pulled out the manuscript. “I received this from my mother’s lawyers. Along with birthday cards your . . . our . . . father sent me every year. He put dollars in the cards, to match my age.” Atticus laughed shortly. “I never got more than eight dollars. Of course, I never received them as a child. Not until the lawyers sent me the letter from my mother after her death. When she told me about Parker Muir being my father.”

He took a breath and began telling them the full truth. “My mother was an assistant editor in New York. Her name was Zora Green. She worked for your mother, Harper.”

Harper gasped and clutched her sister’s arm.

“Georgiana ordered my mother to edit your father’s manuscript. That’s how they met. How they fell in love. Neither of them planned for her to get pregnant, but she did. With me. My mother returned to Atlanta where my real father raised me as his own. And as you know, Georgiana divorced Parker.”

“That’s why she hated him,” Harper said with new insight. “He cheated on her.”

Atticus shook his head. “Apparently she wasn’t too fond of him before that. According to my mother’s letter, their marriage was on the rocks already.”

Harper put her hand to her forehead. “That, sadly, sounds more like Georgiana. She no doubt hated him all the more for embarrassing her.”

“We’ll never know. I don’t care, to tell you the truth. But you should know your father did the honorable thing. He asked my mother to marry him. But she refused. All she asked of him was that he never contact me. Other than the birthday cards, which my mother saved for me, he never did. She also saved this.”

Atticus carried the manuscript to the coffee table. The pitiful-looking pile of papers, curled at the edges, was heavily marked in blue, cut and pasted old-school with scissors and tape, all bound by two thick elastic bands.

“What’s that?” Dora asked.

“Your father’s manuscript. My mother edited it. This was her copy.”

Harper let loose a squelched sob and rushed for the manuscript, holding it in front of her with disbelieving eyes. “This is his book?”

Atticus nodded. “Yes. I wanted to give it to you earlier, but I couldn’t without y’all knowing everything. So . . .” He let his explanation wither. They knew the rest.

Harper’s eyes were filled with tears. “Why didn’t you just tell me? I would have kept your secret. Didn’t you trust me?”

“Or me?” Carson asked, the anger in her tone betrayed by her trembling lips. “We shared so much. I bared my soul to you. And you held back. That’s what really burns me.”

Atticus was glad to hear the anger and the hurt. These were honest emotions he could deal with, much better than the cold silence.

“I couldn’t tell one without telling you all. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place with no salvation between. I’m sorry.”

“What bothers me is how you talked about being honest. And you weren’t being honest,” Harper said.

“I’m being honest now. I am Parker Muir’s son.” It felt empowering to say the words. Freeing. “This is the first time I’ve said that out loud. I am your half brother. Regardless of what you think of me, this is an immutable fact. I think each of you is a fine, remarkable, good woman. I’m proud to be your brother. You’ve brought a lot of happiness to my life. And meaning. You’ve made me feel part of your family. You know, I thought when I came here that I had a mission to help you. I see now I had it all wrong. You saved me. I’m only sorry that I may have destroyed my chance to continue being a part of your family. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” Harper rushed forward to put her arms around him. “It’s all in the past. The future starts right now.”

Atticus felt a shuddering relief and hugged his sister without restraint. Dora came hustling around the cocktail table to wrap her arms around him in a sweep of emotion. Atticus looked over Harper’s shoulder at Carson. She remained seated on the sofa, slump shouldered. Their gazes met. Atticus saw in her eyes the fierce war raging within her. Carson, so strong, so tough. She, perhaps, had been hurt the most by his deception. They’d shared a deeper bond, bound by the inherited gene of alcoholism. If he should have told anyone, it should have been her.

I’m sorry,
he mouthed to her directly, and held out an open arm.

Carson rose and, her face crumpling, came to his open arm.

For that brief moment of connection, wrapped in his sisters’
arms, Atticus felt whole again. When they separated, no shyness or awkwardness was between them, only a newfound happiness.

“So you’re my brother.” Carson wiped her eyes.

“Your half brother,” he corrected.

“Don’t let Mamaw hear you say that,” Dora warned. “She hates that phrase. She says blood is blood and there’s no watering that down.”

“So I guess we still have a minister for the weddings?” Harper asked him hopefully.

“If you’ll have me.”

“It’s either that or walk us down the aisle,” Carson told him. “You are the only surviving male Muir.”

“I’m still Atticus Green. That hasn’t changed.”

“No, of course not,” Carson amended. “But you’re also a Muir.”

“I am.”

“We have to tell Mamaw,” Harper said. “She’ll be so pleased. She didn’t tolerate us berating you in front of her.”

“Which of course we did freely and viciously,” Carson said.

“Nothing more than I deserved.” Atticus looked at the brides. “So the weddings are still on as scheduled?”

Harper looked at him suspiciously. “Of course. Why do you ask?”

“Well”—Atticus held his hands behind his back—“now that everything’s out in the open and being that I’m your brother and all, I figure I can voice my opinion openly, too.”

“Okay,” Harper replied warily.

“Since full and complete honesty is being called into question
today, let’s all come clean. Like Harper said, the future begins today.”

They looked back at him, curious and mildly amused.

Atticus grinned and pointed his finger at Harper and Carson. “You two aren’t being honest about your weddings. In particular, about where your weddings are being held.”

Dora perked up, catching on. “Amen, Brother! I’ve been after them about this forever. You’ve been like two hens picking at seed. All you do is talk about each other’s wedding, not your own. Girls, be honest like Atticus said. Neither of you want the wedding you’re having. You both know you want to get married at each other’s venue.”

“What are you saying?” Harper’s eyes were wide with disbelief. “You aren’t suggesting we cancel our weddings?”

“No, not cancel.” Atticus held his arms akimbo and looked at her from under gathered brows.

In their prolonged silence, Carson and Harper looked at each other, neither taking a breath.

“Switch?” Carson asked in a whisper.

“Why not?” Dora asked.

“No!” Harper said, getting her back up. “That’s ridiculous. Everything is set. It can’t be changed now.”

“Of course it can,” Dora argued. “Stop being so rigid. You can do anything you want. You’re the bride! It’s about time you realized that. And with your efficient brain working on it, you’ll have new lists for us to start checking off in no time. This is your wedding, Harper. And yours, Carson. You’ve both been trying so hard to please everyone else you neglected yourselves. Now’s the time to be honest, right, Rev?”

Atticus chuckled at hearing Dora call him by that nickname.
“Right.” He put on his serious face. He liked seeing this bossy side of Dora, playing the elder card. It suited her.

“Tell me the truth. Carson, do you want to get married on the beach?”

Carson blinked, took a breath. “Yes.”

Dora’s face flooded with satisfaction, even as Harper’s shifted to shock.

“Now you, Harper,” Dora said. “Do you want to get married at the plantation?”

“It doesn’t matter. Granny James—”

“I’m not asking Granny James,” Dora interrupted. “I’m asking you. For once, Harper, tell us what
you
want.” When Harper hesitated, wringing her hands, Dora nearly shouted, “Where’s your spine, girl? Damn the torpedoes.”

“Yes!” Harper shouted back at her. “All right? Yes, I wish I was getting married at the plantation. So what? All this talk of a switch is nothing more than crazy.”

“Why is it crazy?” Carson grinned happily. “Come on, Harpo. This is our adventure, right? Our weddings. We’ve never been afraid before. Let’s not start now. Like you said, the future begins today. Okay, Brave New World.” Carson straightened her shoulders. “I want to get married on the beach.”

Harper dropped the manuscript, she was so shaken. She stood, hands at her side, wide-eyed, frozen in indecision. She looked at Atticus for guidance, her large blue eyes limpid in fear.

Atticus shrugged and shook his head, indicating this was her decision to make. He’d led her to this point, but could go no further.

“It’s time to put the mouse to rest,” Dora said to her gently. “You’re not that little girl anymore.”

“If I do this, I’ll feel like a rat.”

Carson and Dora laughed.

“You’re going to be a mother,” Dora said. “You’re a lioness.”

Carson put out her hands to capture Harper’s. She gave the smaller hands a squeeze. “What do you say, Sis? You and me again on another adventure on Sullivan’s Island. Will you switch with me? Do you dare?”

Harper’s eyes flashed and she smiled a crooked grin. “You bet I do.”

In nothing does the present time more greatly differ from the close of the last century, than in the unreserved frankness of young women and men towards each other.

—Etiquette, 1951 edition, Emily Post

D
ora fluttered about her sisters like a mother hen, giving orders, creating new to-do lists. It seemed to Atticus that she’d found a new calling as a wedding planner. And speaking of wedding planners, they’d called the wedding planner, Ashley Rhodes, and, after assuring her that, no, they had not lost their minds, filled her in on their plan to swap wedding venues.