Third Time's a Charm (2 page)

Gram’s mouth drew into a puckered line. “You shouldn’t work on Sundays. It’s supposed to be a day of rest.”

Tori had a flash of irritation over the lecture, but it evaporated as quickly as it came. Gram meant well. “I know, but apparently my boss doesn’t believe in rest.” Work wasn’t a subject she wanted to discuss right now, certainly not with Gram, so she changed the subject. “Where’s Mom?”

“In the nursery, rocking the baby.”

Tori brightened. Ten-month-old Joanie could sweeten even the sourest mood. “Oh, goodie! I want to go play with my niece.”

She tossed the tray and brownie container onto the table. Before she’d taken half a step toward the doorway, Allie gripped her arm and pulled her to a stop.

“Oh, no you don’t. Mom’s trying to get her down for a nap. If you go in there, you’ll just get her all riled up again and we’ll never get anything done.” She gave Tori a gentle shove toward the table. “Now get cracking on those brownies. We have to hurry up in here so we can go wrap Joan in toilet paper.”

“Wow, Joan, you pulled in quite a haul.” Tori stooped as she shuffled across the living room in her bare feet, her finger held firmly in a chubby little hand. Seemed like Joanie had grown two inches since she last saw her. Bright blonde wisps of hair were starting to curl over her collar and above her ears, and she was a lot steadier on her feet. Not quite ten months old, and she was close to walking already. She turned a happy grin upward and giggled. Tori could feel her stress melting away at the sound.

Mom had left with the last of the shower guests, apologizing for not staying to clean up, but she had just enough time to get to the hospital before her nursing shift began. Tori tried not to think of the piles on her desk back at the office. She’d stuffed a report in her briefcase to work on at home. It was due Monday, and since this afternoon was shot, she’d have to do it tomorrow. That would mean missing the traditional Sanderson family dinner three Sundays in a row, but it couldn’t be helped.

Allie wadded up a piece of wrapping paper and shoved it into a bulging plastic garbage bag. “I don’t know where you’re going to put all this stuff in that tiny little house of Ken’s. And this is just the shower. In another month the wedding gifts will start pouring in.”

Joan balanced a box on top of an already unsteady pile near the door, ready to be loaded into the car. “Gifts won’t be
pouring in
.” She slid the band off her long brown ponytail and combed a couple of stray locks back into place with her fingers before replacing it. “We’re only having a small wedding.”

Joanie toddled toward the chair where Gram sat dozing. She released Tori’s finger and clutched the padded chair arm. Tori straightened and arched her back to stretch muscles stiff from bending. “Three bridesmaids is not a small wedding.”

Joan’s head dipped in acknowledgment. “True, but I had to have my sisters with me, and I couldn’t leave Ken’s sister out.” She gave a short laugh. “We’re going to have more people in the wedding party than guests.”

“You might not be sending out a lot of invitations, but I think you’ll be surprised at how many people from church show up.” Allie gave the contents of the garbage bag a flat-handed shove to make room for more trash. “If you ask me, issuing a blanket invitation to the entire congregation is a mistake. How are we going to estimate a number for the reception?”

To save money, Joan had asked her family to help prepare the food for the wedding reception. And the church sewing circle was making the bridesmaids’ dresses. Tori was skeptical about the outcome of
that
, but it wasn’t her wedding.

“We’ll work it out.” The bride-to-be seemed entirely unconcerned as she dropped to her knees and opened the top of a box. She lifted out a cream-colored cable knit throw blanket and rubbed it on her cheek. “Tori, this feels absolutely glorious. Where in the world did you get it?”

Tori crossed the room and fingered the soft cashmere. “At the mall. The store ordered it in special.”

“A Ralph Lauren blanket.” An almost fearful look crossed Joan’s face. “I’m sure it cost a fortune. Do we dare use it, or should I lock it in a safe and save it for the next time the Queen of England comes for a visit?”

Tori laughed. “Use it. You deserve it more than any old queen. Nothing but the best for
my
sister.” She sobered and gave Joan a stern look. “But keep that giant mongrel away from it.”

The thought of the slobbery horse Ken passed off as a dog lounging on her expensive gift sent a shudder rippling through Tori’s shoulders.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let Trigger near this.” Joan stored the cashmere throw back in the box and replaced the lid.

Allie thrust the garbage bag into Tori’s hands and pointed toward the coffee table, where an array of plastic cups and plates and forks littered the surface. As Tori perched on the edge of the couch cushion and began clearing the trash, Joanie dropped to her hands and knees and crawled across the carpet toward Aunt Joan with surprising speed, her plastic diaper crinkling. A pile of brightly colored bows diverted her attention, and she veered toward them. She cooed a soft “Ooooohhhh” and reached for one with a chubby hand. Laughing, Joan pulled the little girl onto her lap and covered them both with bows.

“I wish you were old enough to be my flower girl.” She planted a kiss on top of the baby’s head.

Tori kept her smile guileless. “You could wait until she is. Another two years and Joanie will be the perfect age.”

Allie paused in the act of folding a chair to send a scowl toward Tori, but Joan’s laugh held no trace of hurt feelings. “Oh, I can’t do that.”

You could if you wanted to.
Tori avoided both sisters’ gazes and picked up a plate with a half-eaten piece of cake.

“So, have you decided who’s going to give you away yet?” Allie leaned the collapsed chair against the wall and reached for another.

Joan’s smile dissolved. “No. In fact, I’m thinking about walking down the aisle by myself.”

Allie shook her head. “Not a good idea. Trust me, you’ll need someone to lean on. My legs were shaking so badly Uncle Edward had to practically carry me down the aisle. I wish he was still alive.”

Tori glanced toward Gram at the mention of her deceased brother. The elderly lady’s head had nodded forward until her chin rested on her chest. Her shoulders rose and fell in an even rhythm.

“I wish Grandpa was still alive,” Joan said quietly. “He’s the one who ought to give me away.”

Nobody mentioned Daddy. Tori scooped up the last crumpled napkin and shoved it in the bag. He’d lost the right to give the bride away fifteen years ago, when he deserted them after his divorce from Mom. The jerk.

“Mom would do it,” she said.

“I know, but . . .” Joan plucked at a blonde curl on Joanie’s hair. “I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem right. Mom deserves to be escorted herself, and sit in the place of honor as mother of the bride.”

Allie collapsed the last of the folding chairs. “Eric will be glad to walk you down the aisle, you know that.”

“But I want him to escort
you
, not me.” Joan heaved a sigh and stuck a bow on the top of Joanie’s head.

Tori stood and picked up the garbage bag. “Can we rent a little old man somewhere? Just for a couple of hours.”

Allie’s eyes twinkled. “Can’t you see the ad?
Wanted:
Distinguished-looking man to give away bride. Must have graying
hair and a tux.
”

Joan laughed. “I don’t need anyone to give me away—I’m giving myself to Ken.” A pretty blush colored her cheeks. “It’s getting me down the aisle I need someone to cover. I’m sure I can find someone at church who’ll be happy to do it. I just haven’t decided who to ask yet.”

It wasn’t right, asking someone who was practically a stranger to escort a girl on the most important walk of her life. But what choice did Joan have? Tori clutched the top of the bag and gave it a quick twirl. Some day she’d meet Mr. Right herself, and then she’d be in the same position as Joan, looking for a substitute father for her wedding day.

She hefted the bag and headed for the back door and the big garbage can outside. Allie followed her, and when they stepped onto the back porch, grabbed her arm.

“You have got to stop scowling every time the wedding comes up.” Her hiss buzzed in Tori’s ear. “This is a happy time for Joan, and she doesn’t need her little sister spoiling it for her.”

“I’m not spoiling anything. I’m entitled to my opinion, and I think they’re moving too quickly.” Tori tossed a quick glance toward the door. “She’s known him less than a year. It’s not right.”

“They were made for each other, anybody can see that. Ken and Joan are both mature, intelligent adults who have thought this through. And they’re in love. There’s no reason to wait.”

“There’s only one reason they’re rushing into marriage.” Tori lowered her voice. “They just want to have sex legally. If you ask me, they ought to go ahead and do it. Get it out of their system.”

Allie’s jaw dropped. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“Oh, why not?” Tori lifted the lid on the trashcan and stuffed the bag into it. “You’re not going to stand there and tell me you and Eric waited for your wedding night. It worked out for you okay.”

A deep flush colored Allie’s fair skin. “That’s not the point. Joan and Ken are doing this the right way.” She lifted her chin. “God’s way. And He’ll bless their marriage because of it.”

Here it comes.
Why did every conversation with her family always turn into a sermon? Well, she didn’t have the patience to listen to another one today. She had too much work to do back in Lexington.

Tori slammed the lid down. “Whatever. I’m not going to say another word.”

She started to step around Allie toward the house, but stopped when her sister put a hand on her arm.

“Be happy for them, Tori. Joan is your sister, and she deserves your support. Don’t spoil her big day.”

Looking into Allie’s earnest eyes, something twisted inside Tori’s chest. Allie was right. If anyone deserved her support, it was Joan. Who came to every football game all the way through high school to watch her cheer when Mom was working second shift? Who helped her practice by reading the part of Li’l Abner to Tori’s Daisy Mae about a thousand times before the school play? Who taught her to drive a stick shift, even at the risk of her own car?

A movement inside the house drew Tori’s gaze through the window in the back door. Joan bent down to help Gram stand from the chair. The old woman leaned heavily on her middle granddaughter, just as Tori had leaned on Joan for years.

She drew a slow breath and looked back at Allie. “You’re right. I’ll be good from now on. I promise.”

Allie smiled and drew her into a hug. “I know you will.”

She released Tori and reached for the door. Her hand paused on the handle. “I’m dying of curiosity. How much did you pay for that Ralph Lauren cashmere throw?”

Tori hesitated. “You won’t tell, will you?”

“No. But when we visit Joan and Ken, I want to know how much luxury I’m wrapping myself in while I munch popcorn in front of a ball game.”

Tori chewed the inside of her lip. Her entire family already thought she was far too extravagant and teased her about the price she paid for clothes and shoes. And really, she’d spent way too much on Joan’s present, even though it was exactly everything Tori liked in a gift—luxurious, attractive, unique. But she’d never be able to deceive her big sister. Allie could spot a lie like she was looking through binoculars.

“Six hundred dollars,” she admitted. “But don’t tell Joan, or she’ll be afraid to use it.”

Allie gave a low whistle. “Don’t worry. She wouldn’t believe me if I told her.” She shook her head. “Girl, I wish I had your job.” She grinned. “Or at least your paycheck.”

Tori flashed a quick smile in return. “It’s my credit limit you want. American Express loves me.”

2

“That’s the last load.” Tori closed the trunk of Joan’s car and stepped backward on the sidewalk. The warm June sun still shone high in a bright blue Kentucky sky. “When it comes to kitchen towels and potholders, you’re set for life.”

“But not a single bath towel so far.” Joan hefted a bow-covered Joanie higher on her hip. “We might have to dry ourselves off with dishtowels.”

On the sidewalk next to Allie, Gram stood with her arms crossed, her age-spotted hands absently rubbing her sleeves. “Nonsense. I have dozens of towels and other linens at the house. You and your mother can divide them between you. Whatever you don’t want will just have to be donated to Goodwill soon, anyway.”

Tori whipped her head toward her grandmother. The ringlets surrounding her face bounced in her peripheral vision. “What do you mean, donated to Goodwill?”

Gram’s eyes went round and her mouth snapped closed. A quick glance passed between Joan and Allie, which sent a shaft of alarm through Tori. Something terrible was going on, and they were keeping it from her.

“What?” She looked from one guilty expression to another. “You guys know something you’re not telling me. Come on—out with it.”

She marched over to stand toe-to-toe with Allie and glared up into her oldest sister’s face. They used to do this when they were kids, the two older sisters keeping secrets from the baby. Well, she wasn’t a baby anymore, and she deserved to know everything they knew, especially if it involved the family. Allie’s lips formed a tight line, but worry settled on her forehead.