Letters and Lace (The Ronan's Harbor Series) (9 page)

“Is that going to, you know, be okay?” he asked tentatively.

“Of course.” Her insides folded in on themselves. Were people jabbering about this? Would word make its way to Hannah’s ears?

“Down at Gilbert’s the guys were talking,” Norman said. “You know how that goes. Anything worth mentioning in this little town goes right to the barber shop.”

“Well, that’s not good,” she said, her jaw clenched. “I don’t want Hannah to know anything about that silly permit problem. You understand?”

She heard the mommy voice coming from her own lips. She swallowed hard. “Norman, I’m sorry. It’s just that I don’t want people buzzing about this. It’ll be remedied soon enough.”

“Okay, Sarah,” Norman said and offered a prideful smile. “I’ll defend you.”

Oh boy.

When Norman was gone she sat down with pen and paper and began a new to-do list. She needed to keep her mind focused on the wedding and let go of the idea that the permit might not come through. That was not an option.

She barely heard the soft rap at the front door. If it was Norman coming back to
defend her
she might have to start drinking during the day. She opened the door.

Benny stood at the threshold with her dish in his grasp. His face was contorted into a scowl like someone had wound him too tight. He thrust the dish in her direction. “Your dish.”

She accepted it into her hands.

“Did you make those muffins?”

“Um, sort of. It was a box mix.”

“Oh. Well, they were a little dry. If you’d made them from scratch I’d have advised you to add more liquid to the recipe. I like apple sauce. It adds more moisture without more fat.”

She was in the Twilight Zone, she knew that now. This crazy man was channeling Julia Child. Everything about him was suddenly pissing her off. She wanted him gone from her presence, wanted him off her front porch. This gourmet needed to gallop on out of her way.

“If there’s nothing else then…” She slowly inched the door closed. “Thank you for returning my plate.”

“Sarah…wait.”

To her own surprise, she let her hand fall from the doorknob.

“The cops came to my door.”

“I see.”

“They questioned me about that little note you received. I know you didn’t believe me when I told you I’m not the one that put it under your door.”

“That’s right.” She kept her tone and gaze steady and emphatic. Inside she was pure jelly.

“Well, they did. Have they reported back to you?”

“Not yet.” She felt her face flush at his scrutiny. She momentarily closed her eyes.
You hate this guy. You hate this guy.

“Actually they think it might be some sort of prank. From someone you know.”

“People I know don’t do things like that, Benny.”

“I’m just relaying their opinion.”

He surprised her by smiling. It was a lopsided curve of his mouth.

Benny continued, “Want my expert opinion?”

“Does it involve apple sauce?”

“Not this time.” Both sides of his mouth matched now. A full jack-o-lantern grin was plastered on his face. “My advice is to ignore it. Don’t give it any credence and it’ll just go away.”

“I’ll take that under advisement. I’ll use that strategy with all my annoyances, beginning now. If you’ll excuse me…good day, Benny.”

He hesitated for the briefest of moments, his eyes piercing, stilling her breath.
Please go.

The air expelled from her chest when Benny turned way. She watched him retreat—his muscular body navigated the stairs with ease and his ordinary, non-designer jeans hugged his legs—before closing the door.

Sarah startled at her observation and its contradiction to her common sense. All the time that she’d failed to notice
anything
physical about a man, and now eyeballing faded denim stretched across the butt of this nuisance gave her a lightning-like jab of electricity.

This was a problem.

****

By the time Hannah arrived for the weekend, Sarah had her game face on. She had wrestled herself free of the effects of Benny’s physicality and did her best to put aside her worries about the wedding and the cryptic note.

She knew that when the weekend was over, she’d focus on proving who wrote the anonymous little tidbit. Damn the local PD for advising her to ignore the note, “chalk it up to a prankster” was how they’d put it when they’d called. Double damn Benny for starting this mess and agreeing with their advice, and worse, for looking pretty darned good in faded Levi’s.

Sarah and Gigi sat at the large island in The Cornelia’s kitchen, photographs of flower arrangements fanned out in front of them. Hannah burst into the room, hands outstretched, her face a mask of distress.

“Pumpkin, don’t scrunch your forehead you’ll get premature wrinkles,” Gigi said.

“Daddy wants Tina to be my flower girl!” She plopped herself onto a counter stool, groaning as if her foot was caught in the jaws of a bear trap. “Seriously.”

Sarah shared a quick glance with Gigi. “Hannah, let me pour you some tea.”

“I don’t want tea, Mother.” She was like a grouchy twelve-year-old, the stubborn child that still managed to surface from time to time.

Sarah made her tea anyway.

“Why should I have to have Tina in my wedding? She’s only three. You know what a pain that’s going to be?”

“It’s your wedding, honey bun,” Gigi soothed. “If you don’t want a toddler in your wedding party, that’s up to you. Besides she’s so young. Is this kid even housebroken yet?”

“Um, Gigi, dear, that would be potty-trained, not housebroken.” Sarah was now convinced that she might have two cranky adolescents on her hands. “Tina’s not a beagle.”

“I know, but still…” Hannah piped in. “You haven’t had to spend any time with her. She’s a spoiled brat. Daddy and Piper let her get away with everything. It’s ridiculous.”

“Here, drink this.” Sarah placed the mug of tea in front of Hannah, ignoring the theatrics.

“Maybe you can
discuss
this with your father. You know, tell him your concerns.”

“Nope.” She sipped her tea. “He won’t listen. Whatever Piper and Tina want is gold. I’m doomed.”

Sarah hated that Hannah felt like the outsider when it came to Gary and his new family. It shouldn’t be like that. Hannah should have equal say in matters that concerned her.

But the last thing Sarah could do was to tell her daughter to put her foot down and deny the request. Experience told her it would start an argument that would only escalate and might never end.

Besides, she needed Gary to stay the hell out of
her
way—especially now that there was this little matter of someone trying to sabotage the wedding event. No. She’d keep her opinion out of it.

“Hannah, maybe you can appeal to Piper. At least ask her to be extra watchful of Tina that day.”

“Or, maybe get the kid a leash.” Gigi closed her mouth abruptly when Sarah shot her a narrowed glare.

“Okay, not a leash, per se,” Gigi said. “But, you know they have those things that look like a leash. You see kids tugging at the end of them in the mall. You could get a satin one, maybe.”

“Hannah, I suggest you talk with Piper.” Sarah said. “She’ll make sure Tina behaves.”

“Oh, like that’ll happen. The kid’s a prima donna, Mom.”

She placed her elbows on the table and leaned forward, fixing her eyes onto Sarah. “I want my wedding day to be perfect. I mean, my career’s nowhere. At least I can have a beautiful, flawless wedding day. Is that so much to ask? Can you understand that, Mom?”

Sarah’s heart skipped with a thud. Yes, she understood. And, she’d make sure that’s just what Hannah got.

“Let’s go over the centerpiece ideas.” Gigi rearranged the fanned photos on the table top. “Then I’ve got to get back to the shop.”

Sarah could tell her daughter’s heart wasn’t in the effort. Hannah sat slumped over the pictures while Gigi and Sarah gushed over them. It was maddening. Sarah had the errant thought that if this little bride was going to behave like a teenager, maybe she’d send her to her room like the good old days.

They decided on low, square vases brimming with hydrangea blossoms—arrangements that promised to add just the right touch to the splendid day.

Sarah walked Gigi to the door and when they were sufficiently out of Hannah’s hearing Gigi leaned close. She whispered, “So, what’s our little girl like at the dentist?”

Sarah grinned. “I can’t believe this Tina thing has her so upset. I mean, if it means that much to her she should put her foot down with Gary.”

“You mean just like you used to?” Gigi’s well-trimmed left eyebrow lifted in a sarcastic arc.

“Point taken, friend,” Sarah said. “Now, go. Leave me here with this cranky creature.”

She found Hannah still sitting in the kitchen, a defeated, blank look on her pretty face.

“Let’s go over the caterer’s information before she gets here, shall we?” Sarah said. She went to the desk, tucked into the room’s alcove, and pulled out her wedding file. She brought it back to the island and opened the cover.

“Okay, good idea,” Hannah said. Her voice was subdued, her tone lackluster. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m acting atrocious.”

“Honey, is something else bothering you, you know, besides Dad’s insistence on Tina being the flower girl?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.”

Sarah closed the file folder. “Okay, kid. Talk to me.”

“It’s just that this whole thing feels like it’s gotten torn out from under me or something. I mean, one minute I’m engaged and everybody’s all happy and proud and now all I do is stress over the event. This isn’t fun anymore.”

Hannah’s eyes brimmed with threatening tears. Her mouth pulled itself up at one corner—the signature expression she’d used all her life when refusing to succumb to crying.

Worry, like ice water in her veins, shot through Sarah. “Are you having second thoughts about marrying Ian?”

“What?” Hannah straightened her posture. “No. Are you kidding me? No.”

“Okay, what then?”

“I don’t know.” Hannah raked a hand through her long hair. “Maybe it’s just this thing with Daddy and his push for Tina’s participation in the ceremony. I’m tired of him telling me what to do. I mean, does it ever end, Mom? How did you stand it all those years?”

Good question.
Sarah thought back to a time when she herself had fought for her beliefs. It always ended in her acquiescence. She’d been a jellyfish when it came to Gary Grayson. His approval was so coveted that she’d just give in and do things his way.

She touched her wild, shaggy hair.
Not anymore.
“Look, Hannah, your father—”

“I know, I know. He means well. I get that. As we speak, he’s meeting up with Ian in Chicago. They’re both there on business, but they’re planning on taking some time to get in nine holes of golf. Ian’s excited. He loves Dad.”

“It’s nice that your men get along,” Sarah offered. The words tasted stale on her tongue.

Of course
Gary liked Ian. He’d all but hand-picked the young businessman to be his son-in-law. Sarah recalled when Gary had first mentioned Ian to Hannah during a dinner function at the club; she’d refused to meet him. It had been out of spite, of course. Yet, how sweet the approval of a strict, discerning father.

Sarah’s chest ached as she eyed her only child. She seemed so young sitting there with her face scrunched up and her mouth pouted. Hell, she was only twenty-three. That was considered young these days for the walk down the aisle.

Sure, Sarah had married even younger, but that was then. Was Hannah jumping into this whole wedding thing sooner than she really should?

Sarah said cautiously, “You have to decide what’s important to you.”

Hannah gave her mother a little smile. Sarah knew the one—the brave smile. The one that said she’d be fine.

“Let’s go over the menu,” Hannah said, reaching across the island and giving the file folder a flip open. “The catering people will be here at four.”

Emily Melrose arrived right on time. By then Sarah and Hannah had pretty much come up with their preference list, although their selections would not be final until after the tasting event. It was scheduled for the coming weekend when Ian would be available to help decide on selections.

Emily, a wisp of a woman with intense dark eyes, flipped through her appointment book. “We’re hosting the tasting on Saturday, as you know, Hannah. I need a final head count. You initially said four attendees, is that right?”

“Make it six,” Hannah said, with a quick roll of her eyes. She turned to her mother. “Daddy wants Piper to come, so of course, my three-year-old stepsister Tina will be there.”

“That’s fine,” Sarah said brightly. That took an effort on her part, considering she couldn’t fathom how the rail-thin Piper, who clearly didn’t eat, was going to give input on food.

“I guess,” Hannah said. “So, six of us. That okay?”

“Okay?” Emily said with clearly enough enthusiasm for all of them. She placed a hand on top of Hannah’s. “The more the merrier. We want everyone happy.”