Kiss the Bride (16 page)

“You’re up early,” Delaney said mildly.

“I thought maybe we could have a heart-to-heart.” Honey made Delaney’s bed and stiffly sat down on it.

“Is this about the wedding preparations?” Delaney eyed her from the mirror.

“No. Not really. We just haven’t had much of a chance to talk lately, and I was feeling we were a bit disconnected. You’ve been busy with this new project, and I’ve been busy too.” Honey came over to pat her shoulder. “Here. Let me have the flatiron. You missed a spot along your nape.”

Dutifully, Delaney handed her the ceramic styling iron and Honey breathed a sigh of relief. The insurrection had been a small one.

“Sit up straight; you’re slouching.”

Delaney sat up, but kept her eyes lowered so Honey couldn’t peer into the mirror and read her thoughts. But she could feel tension tightening the muscles along the back of her daughter’s neck.

“Busy doing what?” Delaney asked.

Alarm spread through Honey. Was her daughter being cagey? “Why, planning your wedding of course.”

“Right,” Delaney said in that calm, unemotional tone of hers that at times Honey found slightly demeaning.

You’re the one who stressed the importance of learning to manage her emotions. She’s just doing what you taught her.

Ah, but she’d learned too well. Honey feared she never really knew what her daughter was thinking or feeling behind those enigmatic green eyes so much like her own.

The price of controlling her youngest daughter had been high, but it was a cost Honey had no choice but to pay. She refused to let Delaney end up like Skylar. Even after seventeen years, the memory of her oldest child painfully wrenched Honey’s heart. Haunting guilt sent her gaze flicking over Delaney, looking for any problems to nip in the bud. She took in the serene sophistication of her daughter’s large bedroom with its cool sage green walls, cherrywood sleigh bed, and haute couture–inspired accessories.

“Did you have a wedding-based errand at the amusement park on Galveston Island yesterday afternoon?”

Honey froze.
Don’t reveal a thing. Keep your face emotionless.
“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Come on, Mother, I saw you.”

The words, once spoken, were as powerful as a slap. Honey’s cheeks stung. She gulped. How was she going to handle this?

Lie through your teeth. It’s the only way to survive.

Grappling to control the terror mushrooming inside her, Honey laughed, trying to sound carefree, but she only
ended up sounding nervous. “Don’t be absurd. You know how much I hate Galveston and amusement parks.”

“Yes, I do, which is exactly why it struck me as so odd to see you there.”

“I wasn’t there,” Honey denied. “It wasn’t me.”

The flatiron hissed in the silence between them, steam rising up from Delaney’s hair. The silence lay heavy. An accusation.

“Are you having an affair?” Delaney asked.

This time her laugh was honest. “Don’t be silly, darling. I would never jeopardize my marriage for a fling. I love your father with all my heart. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love him.”

“You couldn’t prove it by me.” Delaney’s voice was flint.

“Excuse me?” This change in her daughter bothered Honey immensely. Skylar had bucked her, spectacularly and often, but Delaney? Never.

“You nag Daddy constantly. He can’t ever seem to do anything to please you.”

Honey was taken aback. “I do not.”

But it was true. She did nitpick James Robert. It was for his own good. Without her he would just drift along, never taking a stand, never feeling strongly about anything.

“I know things between the two of you fell apart after Skylar died, but Mother, it’s been seventeen years. Hasn’t Daddy been punished enough?”

“I’m not punishing him.”

Delaney’s accusation was ludicrous. Wasn’t it?

“No?”

“I’m helping him to improve.”

“What if he doesn’t want to improve? What if he likes being the way he is? You married him that way. How
come he isn’t good enough for you anymore? You criticize me all the time too. How come I’m not good enough either? What’s this impossibly high standard you’re trying to reach? Face it, Mother, we’re never going to be good enough for you.”

Shocked to her very core, Honey sucked in her breath. “Darling,” she whispered, “I had no idea you felt this way. I only correct you because I love you so much. I want to see you excel. To have a rewarding life.”

“Have you ever considered your definition of excellence might differ greatly from Daddy’s and mine?”

“Please don’t get me wrong. I’m not putting you down. You’re a wonderful daughter, and you’ve accomplished so much. You’ve started your own business and it’s thriving. You’re about to marry one of the most eligible bachelors in Texas, who just happens to be a really nice person as well. People are going to be talking about this wedding for years to come.”

Using the curling iron, Honey pointed to Delaney’s framed “ugly duckling” picture she encouraged her to keep on her dresser as a reminder not to slip up and go off her diet. “See how far you’ve come. You were a size eighteen in that picture, and now look at you, a perfect size four. I’m so proud.”

“Uh-huh,” Delaney muttered. “That’s what I thought. As long as I stay thin I have your approval, but let me dare to gain weight, and I risk losing your love. Gotta tell you, Mother, conditional love doesn’t feel so swell.”

Honey had to bite down on her tongue to keep from lecturing her about mumbling and saying “uh-huh” and “gotta.” Truth be told, her feelings were hurt. How could her own daughter misunderstand her intentions so completely?

“There.” She forced a smile. “All done.”

“Thank you.” Delaney unplugged the flatiron and headed into the adjoining bathroom.

Suddenly feeling exhausted, Honey sank down on the bed. She thought once she’d raised Delaney to adulthood, everything would be so much easier.

But it was not.

She had imagined they would be fast friends, going shopping, calling each other several times a day, sharing fashion tips and diet recipes, and laughing together.

But they did not.

Honey thought that preparing for this wedding would be the glue that would finally bond them, that once Delaney was engaged and on the road to becoming a married woman, she would finally understand the sacrifices Honey had made. That she wanted only the very best for her.

But it had not.

If anything, the impending wedding seemed to be pushing them farther and farther apart, with Delaney growing more apathetic with each decision made. She didn’t seem to have any sort of opinion on the cake or the reception menu or the invitations. Her reaction to everything was a bland, “Whatever you like.”

What was wrong with her daughter?

The staunch reserve she’d perfected over the years slipped, and tears she hadn’t cried since losing Skylar sprang from her eyes and slid down her cheeks. In spite of trying her very best, she was a terrible mother who couldn’t love her own daughter unconditionally. God was punishing her for her lies and deceptions.

What would happen if Delaney found out about the blackmailer? What if she learned the truth?

Fear thrashed inside her. She struggled not to give in to it. She kept her hands knotted tightly in her lap, her
shoulders set straight, and with catlike concentration willed the tears to stop. She was not a weak person. She was strong, she was a survivor. She and Delaney would weather this storm and come out stronger at the other end.

The tears dried on her cheeks. Yes, yes. Everything would be okay. This was fixable.

She had to believe it. Had to believe she would not lose Delaney.

Otherwise, if she dared let herself think that her surviving daughter had withdrawn from her completely, Honey would totally fall apart.

Her mother was lying, but Delaney had no idea why.

She sat parked in her Acura beside the Galveston seawall, her father’s black Bushnell binoculars resting in her lap. She stared at the amusement park sprawling out across the beach below. She couldn’t believe she was doing this—checking up on her mother.

Curiosity nibbled at her.

At ten
A.M
. on a Thursday, only a few tourists haunted the rides and concession stands. Lucia wasn’t expecting her until noon, when they were meeting with Lucia’s real estate agent, Margaret Krist, to discuss Delaney’s plans for the house.

She had two hours to locate the patch-eyed woman and quiz her about Honey. She’d brought cash in case the woman expected to be paid for the information. Delaney might be sheltered, but she wasn’t dumb. She watched television. She was aware of how these things worked.

The main thing keeping her butt welded to the car seat was this inbred fear of carnivals and amusement parks that her mother had instilled in her.

Stay away from carnies. Those people are scoundrels
and crooks and pickpockets and thieves. They will rob you blind, and that’s if you’re lucky.

Delaney scooted over to the passenger seat, rolled down the window, propped her elbows on the sill, and raised the binoculars to her eyes. She surveyed the area for the one-eyed woman, but saw no sign of her.

This wasn’t getting her anywhere. She was going to have to face her fear, walk into that amusement park, and ask someone about the woman. Too bad confrontation made her nervous. She took a deep breath.

If you can flip off Nick Vinetti, you can do this.

Smiling, her courage bolstered by the memory, she got out of the car, tucked her purse under her arm, and strolled down the seawall toward the cement staircase leading down to the beach. Almost immediately, she realized how inappropriately she was dressed for a stroll along the shore. White silk slacks, a silk navy-blue V-necked blouse, and high-heeled sandals. What had she been thinking?

Well, when she’d dressed that morning she’d been thinking about her meeting with Lucia’s real estate agent, not a powwow with the carnival woman. It was only after talking to her mother and Honey acting so suspiciously that she had made up her mind to do this.

Carefully, Delaney picked her way down the staircase, holding tight to the railing. The minute she veered onto the walkway leading to the amusement park entrance, the wind blew sand into her open-toed shoes.

She ambled along through the grounds, trying to look casual as she studied the faces of the amusement park workers. Surprisingly, a pleasant feeling stole over her. The sound of the ocean was so peaceful, she almost forgot why she’d come.

After trailing up and down the walkway and not seeing
the one-eyed woman, she realized she was going to have to ask someone if they knew her. Taking a deep breath to bolster her courage, she sidled up to the bored-looking guy manning the Whack-a-Mole. No one else was around. He leaned across the counter and leered at her as she approached.

She forced a smile. “Hello, I was hoping you could tell me where I might find someone who works here. She’s an older woman and wears an eye patch.”

“What’s it worth to you?” His look was lascivious and his gaze fixated on her mouth.

She pressed her lips together in a firm line. “I’ll give you ten dollars.”

He held out a palm.

Delaney dropped a ten-dollar bill into it.

“You’re talking about Paulette Doggett.” The man spat a stream of tobacco into the sand not far from her foot. “It’s her day off.”

“Do you have any idea where I might find Ms. Doggett?”

The leering man shrugged. “I ’magine she’s out chasing the hounds.”

“Excuse me?”

“Paulette came into a wad of cash yesterdee, and she likes betting on the greyhounds.”

“Thank you.” Grateful to be out of the man’s company, Delaney hurried away. She had two choices, go to the greyhound track and try to find Paulette in the crowd, or return to the amusement park another day. Since she had a meeting planned for noon, she chose the later option.

“Well, well, well, will surprises never cease,” said a familiar voice from behind her that made the hairs on her arms stand up. “If it isn’t Miss Rosy.”

D
elaney turned to find Nick Vinetti standing behind her, his grin wide and wicked. She felt a little woozy, like all the air had been leaked from her lungs.

“Hi,” she said breathlessly.

“Hi.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I asked first.”

And that’s when she noticed the boys standing on either side of him. “Gina’s kids, right? Jack and Zack.”

“We’re twins,” one of the boys said.

“I can see that.” Delaney smiled at them.

“Identical,” the other added.

“I can see that too.”

“We’re seven,” they chimed in unison, charming Delaney with their gap-toothed grins, crew cuts, and skinned elbows. She could easily imagine Nick at their age, dark-eyed and full of mischief. Although she had no idea why that image would make her chest feel all tight and knotty.