A Twist of Fate (7 page)

As well as many New York acquaintances and Griffin Maddox’s business associates, the glamorous rich set that Thea had met at Crofters were all jetting in for the wedding. Storm had spared
no expense in her effort to impress them. It was as if she were some kind of blushing virgin bride and not a twice-married divorcee. Thea fought down her sense of injustice. She’d always
imagined that a wedding at Little Elms like this would be hers – in time – not Storm’s.

Now Thea saw a familiar figure placing the fancy, embossed order-of-service booklets out on the velvet chairs and she knocked on the window, but Michael was so far below her he couldn’t
possible hear.

Even though she was thirteen and he was nearly fifteen, Thea had noticed how much older he seemed these days. He’d grown tall and had started shaving the fluffy moustache she’d
teased him about. His face was tanned and his honey-blond hair was slicked back, making it seem darker and his face more handsome. He was wearing a navy tuxedo and Thea saw how the tie constricted
his neck, how the whole outfit made him look as if he wanted to burst free and ride with the wind in his hair.

She pictured them together as they had been yesterday, riding for miles in the early morning. How, when they’d stopped, he’d told her to be brave about today. She knew he’d
meant it in the kindest possible way. After all, Thea had offloaded to him countless times in these last few months of wedding planning. About how she couldn’t shake the feeling that Storm
didn’t like her. About how upsetting it was that Storm always promised shopping days and spa trips, but always cancelled right at the last moment. About how she didn’t trust Brett and
how he intimidated her. Her lists of doubts had gone on and on. Michael had listened, soothing and agreeing with her.

But now the day was here and she was in this dress, and Thea felt nervous about the wedding for an altogether different reason. There would be dancing later and she’d be able to be in
Michael’s arms. Just as she’d daydreamed.

She stood back and gazed at her reflection in one of the three full-length white mirrors set up by the doorway. What would he think when he saw her? she wondered. She hardly recognized herself
in all the eyeliner and mascara, her blonde hair sprayed up away from her forehead and plaited with ribbons at the back. Did she look like one of those ghastly pageant queens? Or beautiful, as the
make-up girl had said? She couldn’t be sure.

She went over to the table to pick up her pink posy of roses and eyed the door, waiting for the opportunity to present itself for her to sneak away and see her father. She’d be able to
tell how she looked from his reaction. She could always see from his eyes whether he was pleased with what he saw.

But there was another reason too. She wanted to know whether getting married brought back painful memories of her mother. Somehow, hearing him say just a few words to acknowledge the past seemed
so important today.

But just as she reached the door, Storm called out to her from the bedroom. Thea turned and walked towards her. From the coos of the dressers, who were standing back to admire the vision before
them, it was clear that Storm was finally ready.

Storm’s much fussed-over designer dress was similar to the wedding Barbie that Thea had played with as a child: layers upon layers of frills nipped in to show off Storm’s formidably
small waist. Storm, with her never-ending desire for the theatrical, had made no secret of the fact that she’d drawn inspiration for the design from the wedding dress Princess Diana had worn
three years earlier, although thankfully she’d ditched the twenty-five-foot train, Thea thought. But even without it, the dress was a big enough number to make Thea wonder whether she’d
fit down the aisle outside.

‘Wow,’ Thea breathed. ‘You look amazing.’ Up close, she saw that the jewel-encrusted bodice of Storm’s dress led to puffy sleeves, which complemented the shape of
the neckline perfectly and framed a dazzling diamond necklace.

‘Thank you,’ Storm said, as if genuinely touched. Then she waved for the others to go. ‘Give us a minute, will you?’

Storm watched them leave the room, her hands clasped in front of her, as regal as a queen. Sunlight poured in through the window, making the diamond necklace and the jewels in her hair light up
the walls of the room with sparkling dots.

She walked towards the fireplace, making the dots jump.

‘Griff and I were going to give this to you later, but I think now is the right moment,’ Storm said, taking a duck-egg-blue box with a white ribbon from the mantelpiece. She turned
with the box and smiled at Thea. ‘Open it.’

Thea didn’t move for a second. If this was a gift from Storm and her father, then why wasn’t he here, giving it to her as well? But she took the box and slipped off the ribbon.

‘It’s lovely,’ she said, pulling out the silver Tiffany locket. She meant it. It was exactly the kind of thing her mother would have worn, and she guessed that her father must
have picked it out, not Storm.

‘I want you to wear it today,’ Storm said, coming forward and helping Thea with the clasp. Then she put her hands on Thea’s shoulders and looked right into her eyes. ‘I
know this is hard for you, hon,’ she said in her husky southern drawl, ‘being a teenager was never easy for anyone. But you and I . . . we’ll have something so special.
You’ll see,’ Storm said, fastening the locket behind Thea’s neck and kissing her cheek.

And right at that moment she remembered Storm’s very first promise: that she intended to be more of a fairy godmother than an evil stepmother. Now, in that dress, dazzling with jewels, her
beautiful face soft with affection, Storm really did look as if she was going to finally come good on her word.

Thea felt something inside her shift. She put her fingers around the cool silver heart and smiled back at Storm. Maybe she’d seen her father’s marriage in the wrong light . . .
because she’d been jealous, she thought.

Well, she would change, she vowed. She’d reach out back to Storm. She’d be her perfect stepdaughter. She would. She wouldn’t let any doubts get in the way of her father’s
happiness. Not ever again.

‘Let’s go, people,’ Mimi, the wedding organizer said, marching in and breaking the moment. ‘The press photographers can’t wait any more.’

Thea slipped out of the door onto the landing and tiptoed down what had once been the nursery stairs to the first floor. A lighting rig for the grand photos on the sweeping
staircase had transformed her home into a film set. The whole interior of the hall was filled with the heady perfume of close on 2,000 roses.

She stopped for a moment to take in the scene, but Mimi pushed her out of the way, scooting past her down the stairs in a flurry of panic.

Griffin Maddox was coming out of the door of his room, wearing a grey-striped morning suit, and he was whistling, as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

‘How’s it going up there?’ he asked, a baffled smile on his face as he watched Mimi. Then he winked at Thea and nodded up the stairs, and she knew that she couldn’t ask
about her mother. Not today. He simply looked too happy to be reminded of any pain.

‘It’s crazy,’ Thea said honestly, stepping forward to straighten the cream rose in his buttonhole.

‘Look at you,’ he said, with an impressed whistle.

Thea did a little curtsey in her pink dress, feeling a flush of satisfaction. He really did think she looked great.

‘Oh? She gave it to you already?’ he asked, reaching out to touch the locket. She noticed a hint of disappointment in his voice.

‘It’s lovely,’ Thea said. ‘Thank you.’

‘Did you read the engraving? Here.’

He opened it so that she could read the tiny engraved writing inside. ‘To Thea, with all our love from Mom and Dad,’ he said.

Mom?
He and Storm had chosen those words for Thea? But . . . but she already had a mom. No matter how nice Storm was being, she couldn’t just step into her mom’s shoes . .
.

But before Thea could say anything, Mimi’s shrill voice and accompanying finger-clicking made her look down to where a line of photographers was snaking up the stairs, pointing their
cameras towards them.

‘Nervous?’ her father asked, patting her hand in the crook of his arm. She looked down and noticed his bare hand and wondered what he’d done with the wedding ring he’d
worn when her mother was alive. She hoped he’d saved it for her. She hoped he hadn’t thrown it away.

Behind them, she noticed her father’s bedroom door opening. Justin Ennestein, the family lawyer, was coming out, straightening papers in a leather folder. He was small and rotund, with
brown hair that Thea saw was already flecked with grey. He adjusted his heavy-framed glasses on his beaked nose and looked directly at Thea. He looked caught out, or maybe he was just embarrassed,
Thea thought, that her father was still working today of all days. He turned quickly away.

Brett bounded up the stairs towards them. ‘Wait for me,’ he said.

He was wearing a matching suit to Griffin Maddox, but he’d bulked out in the last few years and looked uncomfortable and constrained, a fold of his neck spilling over his collar. Despite
his cheery manner, his cold eyes looked Thea up and down for a second, making her skin crawl.

‘This is the shot to use,’ Brett called out, grinning down to the photographers, hoisting his arm around Thea’s father’s shoulder. ‘Griffin Maddox and his
children.’

‘Children? But you’re not—’ Thea began, unable to stop herself.

‘Did you tell her, Griff?’ Brett interrupted, looking at the camera and grinning. ‘Your dad’s going to adopt me officially. Which means that, as of today, I’m
changing my name to Brett Maddox and then I’ll be your brother for real. Isn’t that cool?’

The next part of the day passed in a blur, as Thea’s head was reeling from the implications of Brett’s announcement, even as she followed Storm down the aisle
towards her father. Why did it matter so much that Brett had taken her name? Why was the fact that Brett was now officially family so much worse than her father getting married in the first place?
She couldn’t place her sense of betrayal, only that it felt very real. As if once again she’d been somehow demoted or overlooked.

But as the pastor talked about the importance of family and how much Griffin and Storm cared about uniting Brett and Thea with them, Thea found herself having to put on a brave face, despite
Brett’s smug grin.

And afterwards, seeing her father so happy, she couldn’t help but be affected by the atmosphere, not to mention the sheer sense of occasion and glamour of the wedding. It was the first
time she’d seen so many of her father’s colleagues since her mother’s funeral, and the various family friends who came to congratulate her couldn’t have been more
flattering. She’d been shocked to realize the power of her dress and her make-up and how they caused everyone to tell her how grown-up she looked, how sophisticated, how she was no longer a
child, but was becoming a woman.

As the wedding spilled from the reception into the evening, the night seemed to be filled with magic. The sides of the marquee were open, letting the balmy air waft through, like a caress after
the fierce glare of the day. The trees were lit by fairy lights, as the big-band orchestra played ‘My Everything’ and Thea joined the crowd to watch, as Storm took to the dance-floor
with Thea’s father.

‘Come on, you,’ Justin Ennestein said, taking her hand and leading her out to join them. As she danced with him, Thea realized that she was almost the same height as him now.
‘You were brilliant today,’ he whispered, as he held her formally. ‘Social glue.’

Thea smiled, flattered.

‘So how do you like your new stepmom?’ he asked. She noticed a hint of something in his voice – as if he thought it was baffling that Griffin had married Storm. Five hours ago
Thea would have agreed with him, maybe even confided in him, but now she felt a new-found sense of family loyalty rising up in her, as she remembered her vow not to ruin Griffin’s day.

‘Oh, she’s lovely,’ Thea said quickly, smiling at her father and Storm as they twirled by.

Justin nodded. ‘That’s good,’ he said, as if relieved. ‘Just never forget who you are, Thea. I promised your mother before she died that I’d always look out for
you.’

Had he? Thea tried to picture the conversation. Once again, she felt a pang of sadness . . . and respect, too. Her mama had known she was going to die. Somehow, that bald fact made her mother
seem so incredibly brave. But now Thea longed to know what else she’d discussed with Justin. Why had her mother felt it necessary to tell someone like Justin to protect her daughter? Had
Alyssa Maddox sensed that her husband might remarry one day? Or – the realization suddenly came to Thea – maybe Alyssa Maddox had insisted that he did? Maybe she’d made Griffin
Maddox make promises too. Ones Thea had no way of knowing about.

‘Mind if I cut in, old man?’ Griffin Maddox asked, leaving Storm to Brett, who leant her back across his arm dramatically, causing a smattering of applause.

‘My pleasure,’ Justin said, kissing Thea’s hand and looking into her eyes for just a fraction of a second.

Griffin Maddox held Thea in his arms and pulled her close. She breathed in his familiar aftershave.

‘Oh, my Thea. My gift from God,’ he whispered. It had always been the sentiment her mother had uttered, and Thea feel a pang of something so bittersweet that it took her breath away.
‘See, it wasn’t so bad. I told you. I know you hate change, darling. But the world goes on. It doesn’t end.’

Thea laughed, blinking away tears, as he kissed her on her forehead. There were so many things she wanted to say, but somehow she couldn’t say any of them. She wished she could apologize
for being so offhand and surly these past months. That she hadn’t really understood before, but now she did. That she’d seen for herself that he and Storm were in love. And love was all
that mattered.

‘You’ll always be my number-one girl,’ he said.

And at that moment Thea felt as if he’d grounded her back to something she’d lost for the past few months. More than just a sense of well-being, but a certainty of her place in the
world – in
his
world – that had been missing.