The Wedding Promise (25 page)

“You would smile, put your shoulders back, chin up, and walk very . . . very . . . slo-o-wl-y. . . . And
don’t
deliver your lines to the floorboards, Megan—they can’t applaud, you know. They can’t even hear you.”

The two young women collapsed with laughter, as if they were thirteen again and still in rehearsals for the ridiculous school play that was coached by the dreadful Mrs. Shrimpton. Jen and Meg still cracked up whenever they mimicked the drama teacher’s endless advice.

“I’m glad you’re making a joke out of this, Jen,” Megan said finally. “Does that mean it won’t really happen?”

“I hope so, Meggy. I really hope so.”

Jennifer’s cell phone rang. She took it out of her purse and checked the number. “It’s my mom. She’s probably wondering what happened to us. We’d better get back.”

“Ed will be home in a little while. I have to make dinner,” Megan said. “Gosh, I sound just like my mother now, don’t I?”

As they walked to the car Megan looked back at the inn and then out at the beautiful view again. “You definitely picked a gorgeous spot for your wedding, Jen. Whatever else happens, at least you’re getting married on what has to be one of the prettiest places on earth.”

“I think it is. I would really hate to move too far away from here. I don’t understand why anyone would,” Jen said honestly.

T
HE clock was ticking down. Liza knew that every hour of every day counted now. Fortunately, whenever she got too stressed, Claire would calm her down. “It’s going to be lovely. Not perfect,” Claire would caution. “Nothing is perfect this side of heaven. But lovely nonetheless.”

Liza wanted to believe that. But when the florist called on Saturday morning, the weekend before the wedding, and said they couldn’t find the pale pink rose petals the flower girls were supposed to toss as they walked up the aisle, Liza got upset all over again.

“What color can you find? Can I pick up a sample today? I have to show the bride and her mother a sample before I can change the order. This wedding is next Sunday, June nineteenth, eight days from now,” she said to the woman on the other end of the phone. “Did you notice that?”

When she finally hung up she saw Claire standing nearby, looking at her. “I have to drive up to Newburyport for rose-petal samples. It won’t take long,” she said glumly.

“Oh, bother,” Claire replied softly. “When the bride walks down the aisle ready to give her hand and her heart to her true love, she won’t notice if the rose petals are pale pink, mauve, fuchsia, or any shade in between. If she does, she’s definitely focused on the wrong thing. You just do your best, Liza. Let God take care of the rest. Including the rose petals.”

Liza nodded and found herself smiling. She sat back in her desk chair, feeling far less urgency about the situation. She made a mental note to remember Claire’s gentle but knowing advice when the next crisis erupted.

All in all, though, Liza was actually grateful for the busyness and distraction of the wedding. It kept her from dwelling on painful thoughts about Daniel.

She hadn’t realized what a big part of her life he had become, how their friendship and his presence around the inn brightened her days. She had taken all that for granted, and now she missed him terribly. She had often, secretly daydreamed about some far-off day when she and Daniel might run the inn together, working side by side. She would take care of the guests and creative touches, and he would take care of the building. They would make a good team, she thought, just like her aunt Elizabeth and uncle Clive.

She and Daniel had made a good team, without her even realizing it. She knew that much now. If only their relationship could somehow go back to where it had been—easy and affectionate, with no pressure on either side.

But Liza knew now that it could never stay that way forever. She would always end up wanting more, and Daniel would end up pushing her away again.

Almost a week had passed since Daniel had assigned his crew to Liza’s list. They had only talked once. He had called from a noisy job site. They could hardly hear each other, and their brief, fractured conversation had been confined to a cracked windowpane in a third-floor bedroom.

He had dropped by once to check the work his crew was doing, but Liza had been out, driving around on wedding errands. At first she wasn’t sure if that had been a good or a bad thing, but finally, she was relieved that she hadn’t seen him. She still felt hurt and even angry at the abrupt way he had cut her off.

She told herself that eventually she would get over her anger. Eventually, she would be able to conceal her true feelings and have a casual, normal conversation with him. In the meantime, she missed him like crazy—his smile and his voice, the way they always laughed together, the way he listened and gave her good advice, and his funny, gentle teasing. Her heart ached remembering. So she tried not to.

She was trying not to think about Daniel on Tuesday night, just six days before the wedding. There were only a few more finishing touches and small tasks to take care of. Like writing out the seating cards for each table. Liza sat on the porch of the inn and carefully copied the name of each of the guests.

Calligraphy required both focus and relaxation; some people even considered the practice a form of meditation. Liza enjoyed losing herself in any kind of creative work; it came naturally to her. But as she worked her way through the seating chart, she felt distracted by the starry night sky and the distant sound of the ocean waves. She couldn’t help but recall the night she’d visited Daniel’s cottage and they’d eaten dinner at the edge of a cliff, up in the stars.

When she looked up from her work and saw Daniel’s truck pull into the drive, she blinked, thinking she might be imagining it. Was it a coincidence that Daniel had come here tonight? Or had her heart simply summoned him? She’d been thinking about him so much, it certainly seemed possible.

She took a deep, steadying breath but continued with her work—or at least pretended to. He looked nervous as he climbed out of his truck and walked toward her.

Liza tried to stay calm, though her heart was thumping wildly. She met his glance for a moment as he climbed up the porch steps. “Hello, Liza,” he said, giving the cards a curious look. “Are you doing some artwork?”

“Not really. Not my own work. Just writing out the place cards for the wedding.”

He leaned over and took a closer look. “Very nice. How do you do that sort of writing?”

“Very slowly,” she said, half joking but half serious, too.

It almost hurt to hear his soft, deep laughter.

He turned and sat down on the top step of the porch. She could only see his profile as he looked out at the water. He had been carrying a paper bag and now he placed it on a small table near her.

“Here, I brought back your pan, from that berry dessert. I thought you might need it.”

The baking pan? Some excuse to come here, she thought. But not quite as lame as Banana Crunch Muffins.

“Thanks,” she said. “I forgot I left it.”

“I was thinking about the night you came to my house for dinner,” he confessed. “That was a wonderful night. I enjoyed it.”

She was surprised by his sudden, frank admission. “Me, too,” she said. But she felt a little overwhelmed and couldn’t say anything more. Not without giving herself away.

“I know you must be angry with me, Liza. Disappointed at least, after that wonderful time we had together. I don’t blame you,” he added. “I want to explain why I’ve been so . . . so scarce this week.”

Liza didn’t trust herself to reply. She longed to play it cool and tell him he didn’t owe her an explanation, but that would have been an act.

When Liza didn’t answer, he looked back at the water and continued. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. About you, mainly.”

Liza could hardly breathe. That could be a good sign—or a bad one. “I’m listening,” she said.

“Well . . . I think you’re amazing. You’re the most interesting, clever, artistic—not to mention, beautiful—woman I’ve met in a long time. Quite frankly, you just blow me away. From the first time I met you. And every time since.”

Liza felt overwhelmed by his compliments. She knew Daniel liked her and was attracted to her, but she never realized he felt quite this way. But he hadn’t finished talking, and she sensed that he was about to tell her some things that would be much harder to hear.

“The thing is, even though I feel this way about you, I can’t have the kind of relationship you seem to want. That I want, too, to be totally honest. Things seem to be going in a certain direction between us, and part of me wants to find out where that could lead. But it wouldn’t be fair to you, because I’m not free to do that. Not right now,” he said, turning to look at her again. “Maybe never.”

Liza put down her work, her hands visibly shaking. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. She didn’t want to react with hysterics or recriminations.

“Do you have a commitment to someone else?” she asked quietly. “Is that the reason?”

Daniel shook his head. “No, it’s nothing like that. I’m just not able to be there for you in all the ways you want and deserve. I’m not even sure how long I’ll stay here, and you seem totally committed to the place. I sort of landed here three years ago and never meant to stay even this long.”

“I see.” Liza was too stunned to say more. She knew there might be a conversation like this. She just never expected his words would sound so final.

Her heart was just about breaking all over again, but she forced herself to hold it together until he was gone. She stood up and walked to the porch railing. He got up, too, and stood near her, his arms folded over his chest.

“Well, thanks for being honest with me. Finally,” she added, thinking he could have told her this a few months ago, before she fell so hard for him. “I guess when I didn’t see you all last week, I expected it was something like this,” she added. “I’m sorry if you felt pressured in some way. I’m just getting over my divorce. I’m really not looking for any sort of serious relationship right now, honestly,” she added, trying to save face.

He took a step toward her but didn’t try to touch her. “I don’t feel like you pressured me, Liza. That’s not what I’m saying at all. We have a strong connection. A real connection. I care for you, very much. If I was going to get involved with anyone right now, it would be you. I wish it could be different, I really do. But I’m not the person you think I am. Please believe me.”

Liza felt only slightly gratified by his confessions of affection. In a way, it made her feel even more puzzled and confused.

She turned and faced him. “But why, Daniel? Why aren’t you the person I think you are? What is it that you won’t tell me?”

He stared at her, and she thought he might finally take her into his confidence.

“You can trust me,” she practically whispered. “You really can.”

“I know I can. It’s not that, honestly. . . . ” He shook his head and took a step back from her. “Please believe me. It’s difficult for me, too. But this is the right thing to do—the only thing I can do. I’m sorry,” he said again. Then he turned and walked down the steps and out to his truck.

Liza watched him for a moment before she realized she didn’t want to watch him drive away. It all felt too final, too wrenching. She ran inside the inn and up to her room. She sat on the edge of her bed, crying. “It’s just as well,” she told herself through her sobs. “You’ve only known him for a few months and you hardly even dated.”

But that was beside the point, wasn’t it? Their relationship had felt important to her almost from the start. There was something real between them, something genuine and rare. And Daniel was walking away from it, cutting it out of his life as if it—as if
she
—didn’t matter at all.

 

 

ON Wednesday morning, Liza and Claire got to work early, readying the nicest rooms at the inn for the Bennets’ out-of-town wedding guests. Some would arrive on Friday and the rest on Saturday. Liza wanted everything to be perfect, but she felt so depleted and battered from Daniel’s visit, she was hardly up to the task.

“Are you feeling all right, Liza?” Claire finally asked. “I think you’ve been working too hard lately. Why don’t you take a rest this morning? I can handle this.”

“I’m not tired, not really,” Liza said, “I’m sorry if I’m so slow, but I need to be working right now. Doing something productive,” she added.

“Wedding stress getting to you again? Everything seems in order. I think we have it under control.”

“It’s not that. For once,” Liza said quietly. She turned from dusting a window frame. “Daniel came by last night. We had what you’d call ‘a big talk.’”

Claire met her glance. “Did you have an argument?”

“No, not exactly. But maybe that would have been better,” Liza replied. “People are sorry after arguments. They make up and get back together. This was different. It’s really . . . over,” she said bleakly.

Liza told Claire more of their conversation, how she asked Daniel point-blank to trust her and tell her what was really keeping them apart. But he couldn’t—and that made a relationship impossible. “I’m probably lucky he cut it off,” she said bitterly. “Because I can’t be with a man who won’t trust me. It would never work.”

“At least he came back to talk it out. I think that shows that he cares for you, Liza, and respects you.”

Liza tried to take some comfort from her words. But it was cold comfort now. “I know he cares. But that makes it even harder. It’s just over, Claire, completely. He was very clear. He doesn’t want that kind of relationship with me—with anyone right now.”

Claire didn’t answer for a moment. “I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “But if a thing is meant to be, it’s meant to be. Even if it’s not the right timing, or there are too many obstacles. All things are possible for God, you know.”