Daughters Of The Bride (24 page)

“How is it going with Josh and his chores?” he asked.

Okay, not the subject she’d been expecting. “I haven’t done much with that,” she admitted.

“I could tell from the chart on the refrigerator. Why don’t you want him doing chores?”

“I do.”

“But?”

She shifted on her seat. “I don’t know. It’s easier to do it myself. Then I know it’s done right.”

“I thought you hated cleaning up after him in the bathroom.”

“Well, if you’re going to use logic,” she murmured, then sighed. “You’re right. I need to get him to clean his bathroom.”

Greg’s dark gaze was steady. “You really have trouble asking for help, don’t you? How much of that is about me, and how much of it is your dad?”

She stiffened. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“I’m sure you don’t, but you should. Come on, Rachel, you’ve always had trouble letting other people do things for you. Help me understand why that is.”

“I just...” She picked up her coffee, then put it back on the coffee table. “I’ve always been that way.” She could remember her mother crouched in front of her, tears in her eyes. “Be a good girl for me, Rachel. Please. I need you to take care of things.”

“You took on a lot when your dad died,” Greg said gently. “Too much.”

“My mom depended on me.”

“You did her proud, I’m sure. Then you married me and I was in no way ready for that kind of responsibility. So once again you got stuck doing it all. What was the lesson you learned? That if you depend on someone, they’ll let you down?”

“Someone’s been reading a lot of self-help books.”

“True, but that doesn’t answer the question.”

She’d been hoping he wouldn’t notice. “I am afraid,” she admitted. “I trusted you, Greg. With everything I had, and you let me down.”

“I know. I’m sorry. If I could take that back, I would. I was wrong. No matter what was happening between us, I didn’t have the right to do that. But I hope you understand my cheating was a symptom, not a goal.”

“You were angry and frustrated,” she admitted. “I knew that. I felt like I couldn’t get your attention and you thought I was never happy.”

Which she hadn’t been, she thought to her herself. Not at the end.

“I wish you’d think about trusting me now,” he said quietly. “I’m doing my best to show you that you can. I meant what I said before. There isn’t anyone else. There hasn’t been.”

“For, ah, me, either.”

He smiled. “Good. I’m glad you believe me.” He glanced at his watch. “I have an early start tomorrow. I need to get home.”

Just like that? Didn’t he want to stay and maybe make out with her? Obviously not.

She rose. “Thanks for bringing dinner.”

“You’re welcome. Get on Josh about doing his chores. He’s a capable kid. Have a little faith.”

“I will.”

“I hope that’s true, Rachel. More than you know.”

24

“THEY’RE ALL BALLADS.”
Collins spoke defiantly, as if expecting an argument.

Bryan sucked in a breath. “Dude.”

“I couldn’t help it,” Collins said. “That’s what they are.”

Quinn studied the music. Collins preferred to get the melody nailed down before he added lyrics. Quinn could work any way his artists wanted. But he was known to not appreciate a ballad, no matter how well they sold.

“Ballads are fine,” he said easily, reaching for his guitar.

Collins and Bryan stared at him.

“You sure?” Collins asked.

“Yup.”

“You’re mellowing.” Bryan picked up a pad of paper. “Is it an age thing?”

“Don’t make me have Wayne beat the crap out of you, kid.”

Bryan chuckled. “I’m glad you said it that way, because I’m pretty sure I could take you, old man.”

“In your dreams. And it’s not an age thing.”

If he had to guess, he would say it was a Courtney thing, along with a coming-home thing. Being back felt right. He liked the pace of life here. He didn’t miss any part of his life in LA—except maybe the view. That had been damned nice. But he could make do.

He liked being close to his grandmother. He liked the building his company had bought and how it was going to be when it was finished. He liked being with Courtney. She was that unique combination of challenging and restful. There had been a lot of women in his life. More than most men had. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad—the volume simply was. He was ready to let that go, as well.

The change had started a couple of years ago—when he’d been seeing Shannon. Before he had realized his feelings had changed, she’d fallen for someone else. He didn’t think she was the one who’d gotten away, but he recognized he’d lost an opportunity. He wasn’t going to let that happen again. He wanted more. He wanted permanent. Traditional. A wife. Kids. A couple of dogs—although they would never be as glorious and special as Sarge and Pearl.

“You ready?” Collins asked, drawing him back to the present.

“Let’s make it happen.”

Collins played several chords. Quinn listened, breathing in the sounds and letting them sink in deep. He didn’t say anything. Collins played them again and again. On the fourth pass, Quinn played along, then made a few changes. Bryan scribbled the new chords.

Quinn played the whole thing while Collins listened, and so it went, back and forth until they had the melody nailed. They moved on to the lyrics. Quinn read through the lines.

“I think it’s
over before it began
rather than
over when it began
,” he said.

“That’s better.” Bryan played the melody and sang along.

Two hours later they had a song. It would need tweaking before it was ready, but Quinn was excited. This one had the potential to be a hit.

The guys collected their stuff. Leigh, Tadeo’s wife, had come to town and was having the band over for barbecue. He’d declined the invitation but had heard Wayne was going. As much as his assistant pretended to dislike And Then, hanging out with them was good for him. And for them.

As Collins and Bryan left, he saw Courtney walk toward the bungalow. She had Sarge and Pearl each on a leash. She waved at him.

“We’re going for a walk,” she called. “Want to come with?”

She still had her bangs. He suspected she kept them because they suited her face and not because they made her sexy as hell. Even in jeans and a T-shirt she got to him. She was a walking, breathing fantasy, and she had absolutely no clue. How could he resist that?

“A walk sounds great.” He grabbed the bungalow key and his cell phone, shut the front door and stepped out onto the path. He greeted both dogs, then took Pearl’s leash and fell into step with Courtney.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

“Good. T minus three weeks and counting.” She drew her brows together. “Why do we say
T
? Does it mean time?”

“I think so. We can look it up online if you’d like.”

“I expected you to just know. You seem to have a lot of knowledge at your fingertips.” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “Like your skill with henna.”

He grinned. “That was fun.”

“It was.”

They walked west, toward the path down to the beach. The late afternoon was warm, the sky clear. Once they reached the edge of the property, there was a stone path that led down the cliff to the rocky beach below. The air tasted of salt, and the sound of the waves grew louder as they started down.

“I have to go to LA in a few days,” he told her. “I need to check on a couple of things at the house before I list it. I’m also thinking of having a party. A last hurrah.”

“You really doing it? Really moving to Los Lobos?”

“I am. I’m going to start looking for a place here.”

“I don’t know what to make of that. Won’t you miss being around industry people?”

“No, and anyone who wants to see me can come here. About the party. Want to come with me as my date?”

She looked at him. “Go to LA with you to attend a fancy music industry party?”

He grinned. “I can even promise you a few movie stars.”

“I’ve never been to a party like that. What if I don’t fit in?”

“You’ll be with me.”

That made her laugh. “Because if I’m with you, I’m one of the in people.”

“You know it, babe. Stick with me.”

“Did you just call me babe?”

“I did and you liked it.”

The smile returned. “Maybe. A little. Okay. I’m game.” She came to a stop and faced him. Her expression was serious. “I’m going because of you, Quinn. Not the party.”

He liked that she felt the need to clarify her position. “I figured, but thanks for making it clear.”

“I don’t have a thing to wear.”

“It’s Los Angeles. We can fix that.”

“Are you going to want me in heels?”

He mostly wanted her naked, but that wouldn’t be appropriate. “Only if it makes you happy.”

She thought for a second. “I’m pretty sure I’m ready for the challenge. I just hope I don’t fall.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll catch you if you do.”

* * *

“Can’t I use paper towels?” Josh asked as Rachel showed him how to spray the counters and sink and then wipe them down.

“Microfiber cloths are better. They’re reusable. I wash them every week so they’re clean for next time.”

Her eleven-year-old son sighed heavily. “I know. It saves money and protects the environment. I think I’d like cleaning the bathroom better if I could use paper towels.”

“I don’t think you’ll ever like cleaning the bathroom, but that’s okay. You just have to do it.”

“Kind of like some of the drills for baseball. They’re boring, but they make us better players.”

“Something like that.”

She showed him how to empty the water out of the toilet bowl and then use the long-handled scrubber.

“That’s totally gross.” He sounded oddly pleased by the fact. “I never thought that you have to clean a toilet.”

“Did you think it never got dirty?”

He giggled. “It has to get dirty, Mom. It’s full of poop.”

What was it about boys and bodily functions? Especially the less socially acceptable ones? She told herself to be grateful he was still saying
poop
instead of other words.

They’d already cleaned out the shower, which left only the floor.

“You know where the stick vacuum is, right?” she asked as she shifted to get more comfortable. Her back was bothering her again.

“Uh-huh. In the laundry room.”

“Go get that. You’re going to vacuum first, then use a microfiber pad to clean the floor.”

“You really like microfiber stuff.”

“I do. It gets things cleaned and we don’t have to use a lot of harsh chemicals.”

“You sound like a commercial.”

She smiled. “Then you should be paying me.”

He laughed and went to get the vacuum. She watched as he moved it across the small floor.

“Do behind the toilet,” she called over the loud roar. “And the corners.”

He did as she requested, then wet down the microfiber pad that attached to the end of the mop.

“You have to squeeze it first,” she told him. “Or it will leave the floor too wet.”

He looked at her. “You’re not going to be standing there every time I clean the bathroom, are you?”

She wanted to say she was. That if she wasn’t, he wouldn’t do it right. That he would cut corners or forget or... She thought about Greg’s comments that she was unable to ask for help. That she hadn’t bothered to get Josh going on his chores for nearly half the summer.

In her heart, she knew that the bathroom didn’t have to be cleaned perfectly every time. That Josh learning about helping around the house was the more important lesson. He was old enough now to have responsibilities. Plus, it gave her a break. But letting go was hard.

“I’m going to make a master list,” she said reluctantly. “It will help you remember everything you’re supposed to do. But you’ll be on your own unless you come ask for help.”

“Sweet.”

He dropped the mop to the floor and began moving it back and forth. She was about to remind him to do behind the toilet, then stopped herself.

“Put out clean towels when you’re done,” she said instead.

“I will.”

“You know where they are?”

“Mo-om!”

“Fine.” She deliberately turned her back on the bathroom and walked away.

* * *

“Do you really have to work late, or are you still angry with me?” David asked.

A legitimate question, Sienna thought as she shuffled through the piles of paper on her desk. She shifted the phone so she could cradle it between her shoulder and her ear. She was still at work and busy—so the last thing she needed was a call from David.

“I’m dealing with a lot right now.”

“But you’re still angry.”

“
Angry
isn’t the right word,” she admitted. “I’m hurt. I worry about why you want to marry me.” And maybe why she’d agreed to marry him.

“I was wrong,” he told her. “I’ve apologized more than once. I don’t know what else to do. I never meant to hurt you or imply I’m only interested in your looks. I love you, Sienna. All of you. I want us to be together always. I want to have children with you and watch them grow. I want to make you happy.”

All the right words, she thought. So why couldn’t she believe them?

“David, I just don’t know. I worry things are happening too fast.”

“Then we’ll slow it down. Whatever it takes. I don’t want to lose you, Sienna. Was my mom visiting a problem? I know she has a big personality.”

“The dress didn’t help,” she admitted.

“We already talked about us going wedding gown shopping together. I thought that meant you knew I wasn’t expecting you to wear that dress.”

He had a point there. “What if I don’t want to get married in St. Louis? That’s really important to you.”

“It is, but there are ways to make it work. We could have two receptions. One here and one there. Or what we talked about before—a destination wedding.” He paused. “Sienna, this is about us. I’ve been focused on the wedding too much. You and I being together is the important part. You’re right. Things have been moving too fast. Let’s put wedding talk on hold for a while and focus on each other. Let’s get us right first.”

Her throat got a little tight and her eyes burned. Finally, she thought with some relief. “I didn’t know that was what I needed you to say, but now that you have, I realize that’s what’s been missing. I need there to be more us.”

“Then there will be. I love you, Sienna. I mean that.”

“I love you, too.”

“Good. Now go do your work. If you’re not too late, call me and we’ll get dinner or something.”

“Okay. Bye.”

Two hours later she’d nearly caught up with her quarterly reports. All she needed was a quick check of her email and she could leave. Maybe she would call David so they could grab dinner after all.

Their conversation had helped, she thought. She felt better—less weight of the world and more like herself. Her cell phone rang.

She glanced at the unfamiliar number before answering. “Hello?”

“It’s Erika Trowbridge. Don’t hang up. I need your help.”

Sienna thought of her high school frenemy and knew the situation had to be bad for Erika to reach out to her. “Where are you? Do you need either police or emergency medical aid? I can call 911 for you or come there directly myself.”

“Okay, wow. I was thinking maybe I could ask you some questions. I’m outside your office.”

Sienna was already moving. The familiar worry/panic threatened, but she told herself to focus on the task at hand. “I’ll be at the front door in ten seconds. Stay on the line with me.”

“I’m fine. No one’s hurt me.”

Sienna ran to the main hall and to the foyer. She unlocked the door. Only when she saw Erika standing there did she hang up on the call.

“What’s going on?”

The other woman stared at her. “You take this stuff really seriously.”

“It’s my job.” Sienna looked her over. “You’re all right? No one’s hurt you?”

“I’m fine. Sorry. I didn’t mean to start anything. I just wanted to talk about someone I know. I think she’s in trouble.”

“It’s not you?”

“No.” Erika’s mouth twisted. “I’m sure you find that upsetting.”

Sienna drew in a breath. Her heart rate slowed to normal and the panic faded. “I’m glad you’re all right. You can believe me or not.”

“Were you really going to call the police or an ambulance?”

“Of course. That’s what we do here. We help women in trouble. The thrift store is simply a means to help with the funding.”

She closed and locked the front door, then led the way to the lunch room. She opened the refrigerator and had Erika choose a drink. She pulled a bottle of iced tea out for herself, then motioned to the sofa and chairs set up in the corner.

The furniture was worn but comfortable. As a rule, clients didn’t come to the offices, but when they did, the conversations generally went better when people were more relaxed. Desks with computers could be intimidating as a backdrop.

When they were seated, Sienna tucked her legs under her, then opened her iced tea.