Chapter Thirty-Two
At first it hadn’t been so bad having Colin there.
Before the rehearsal, when I heard him on the porch, telling Clark the story of how he’d broken both arms in two consecutive days the summer he was twelve (a family favorite, it involved a pool, his sister, and an especially slippery slide) I’d found myself smiling.
Then he was wonderful with Jonathan’s family—one cousin he actually knew from a wilderness camp a couple of years earlier—before saving the day when the minister’s phone froze up and reset.
By the time he came to stand by me to the left of the makeshift aisle at the Woods, I was thinking I’d been smart to ask him to stay.
Now I turned to look behind me, where Anne stood in the kitchen doorway. She wore a yellow dress and sandals, a flower crown Kasey had made pinned into her hair. Her bouquet was a collection of gift ribbons from her bridal shower, colorful and bright as it trailed down.
At the front of the living room, the minister and Jonathan stood by the arch, the big window that looked out at the lake just behind them.
Off to the right was Ben with his guitar.
No T-shirt for once. He was in a blue button-down, his hair combed, and just looking at him I felt a squeeze, tight, around my heart.
The music had been in flux up until the minister arrived, so I was curious about the final choice. When Ben started to play, I recognized the melody immediately.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
“Imagine that,” Colin said. I just looked at him. “What? They were asking for suggestions. And it works, right?”
Then he reached over, taking my hand. Confident, so sure of himself. Like it was inevitable, the next thing that was supposed to happen. Immediately, I looked at Ben. His eyes were right on me.
“Don’t,” I hissed at Colin. Too late, I pulled back.
“What?” he said, giving me a bemused smile.
Nothing’s changed, Ben had said to me earlier. I’d disputed it. To Colin, however, I would always be his to claim. It wasn’t all his fault. Of the book that was us, I’d always made sure to be on his same page. If I wanted a different ending, that, too, was up to me.
The rehearsal dinner was held at the Tides. By the time I arrived with my mom—Colin had been enlisted to drive some of Jonathan’s aunts—it was already crowded. We’d barely come in when I felt a hand grip my arm.
“There you are.” It was Liz, looking frazzled. “I need a favor.”
“Name it,” I said.
“Can you go get the dollhouse?”
I blinked. “Now?”
“Anne’s decided she wants to have it here.” She sighed. “There’s some book she read about preserving your voice in wedding planning—”
“Your Day, Your Way,” I said.
She gave me an odd look. “Right. Anyway, apparently it’s very important that both sides of the family be represented in the décor.
Even if it is, you know, in miniature.” She ran a hand through her hair, making it stick up.
Reflexively, I reached over, patting it down like I’d seen Kasey do.
She handed me her keys. “Just pack up what’s in there and bring it.
I’m sorry. It’s just so important. I couldn’t ask just anyone. ”
Her van was hot as I climbed in, several travel mugs crowding the console. A picture of her and Travis, both in football jerseys and leaning into each other, was propped behind the speedometer. I cranked the engine and pulled out of the lot.
While I’d never attempted the driveway before, I’d been a passenger enough times to know to slow down and keep to the right, although not too much so. Still, there was a dicey moment when one wheel sank suddenly. In the next moment, thankfully, I bounced back out, spitting gravel.
Once inside, I began packing up the dollhouse.
As I took out the table, the piano, and everything else, I had a flash of that day up in the attic, seeing it for the first time.
Putting the beds in Juvie and my room. And finally, Anne and Jonathan turning it to show the scene so similar to the one now just behind me.
Big moments, all made of such tiny things.
Back at the Tides, I got a few odd looks as I carried it over to Liz, who then motioned me toward a nearby table that held several of Kasey’s bouquets.
I cleared a space for the house, arranging them around it.
For such a rush job, it looked surprisingly like it belonged there.
Maybe Your Day, Your Way was onto something.
“How cute!” A redheaded woman in a green cocktail dress, a drink wrapped in a napkin in one hand, had appeared beside me. She bent closer, peering at it. “Was this Anne’s?”
“Um, no,” I said. “But it was made by her grandfather. For her aunt, his eldest daughter.”
“So lovely,” she murmured. She put her finger to the door, pushing it open. “Look at that little hallway and kitchen. Such detail!”
“It's actually the family’s house in miniature scale,” I added. “The real one is just across the lake.”
“Well. It sounds like you all have a lot of history here.” She smiled at me. “Aren’t you lucky.”
I’d said “the family”—not “my family.” Clearly, she’d misheard me. Not surprising, considering the sizeable crowd surrounding us.
Then again, she wasn’t wrong. Maybe, like a shared memory, I just needed to claim this.
“We do,” I agreed. “Quite a bit of history. Especially when it comes to weddings.”
Just then, someone began tapping a glass. I looked over to see Kathy and her husband were about to make a toast. Then Colin was beside me, carrying two glasses with limes on the rim. Ginger ale with a splash of sparking water. What we always got at formal events.
At dinner, he chatted with everyone at our table.
Then there were more toasts. Dessert. There was my mom, Kasey, Clark, and…
Colin. Outside, the karaoke machine that had been set up for after-dinner entertainment and…
Colin. Before, he’d been as distant as my phone, sinking deeper into sand at the bottom of the lake.
Now I couldn’t look anywhere without seeing him.
Ben, however, was not there as more toasts were made, glasses poured, and (at times long) stories told. I’d just assumed he would follow the rest of us over to the Tides after the rehearsal. But I had been wrong about a lot of things.
“Damn, cheer up,” Lana said from her seat on my other side. “It’s a celebration, remember?”
I could only imagine how my face looked for her to notice so completely. “Sorry,” I said. “Distracted.”
“Makes sense. The thing with Ben seems pretty intense.”
At first, I wasn’t sure I’d heard her correctly. Which was why I said, “What?”
“Finley,” she said flatly. “Come on. You’re not that slick. I’m surprised the whole lake hasn’t heard you climbing out that window in the middle of the night.”
“What?” I said. “You know about that?”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Please. I’m out late too sometimes. It’s quiet over by the Egg when I’ve passed by. You can pretty much hear everything.”
I was, in a word, stunned.
“I kept waiting for you guys to go public,” she continued. By the way she was taking her time, I had a feeling she was enjoying this. “But then something happened. Things got weird. Even before Colin showed up.”
Funny how she could sense it. “He didn’t want to sneak around anymore,” I told her. “And I—”
“Did?”
“I wasn’t sure.” I bit my lip. “And now it’s too late. I missed my window.”
“Interesting choice of words,” she observed. “Seriously, though? Could you have been any louder coming back in? You must have always gotten busted at home.”
I just looked at her. “I didn’t sneak out at home. Or anywhere. This is all new to me.”
“Well, that tracks.” She glanced at my mom and Kasey, checking they were distracted before adding some more champagne into the glass in front of her. “In the future, just FYI, throw your shoes out first. You whacked the sill with a heel like, every single time.”
“What about you?” I asked.
She gave me wide eyes. “Me?”
“Aren’t you sneaking around with Cardoon?” I asked her.
“That’s different,” she said, waving a hand dismissively.
“How?”
“As discussed, I have a type, and he’s not it.” She took a sip of her champagne, closing her eyes for a moment to savor it. “Also, I’m more of a lone wolf. Unlike you.”
“I could be a lone wolf,” I told her.
She gave me a doubtful look. “Why would you want to be, though? It’s Ben.”
The weird thing was, I knew exactly what she meant. Then I remembered something else. “Wait a second,” I said. “What happened to all that stuff you said about me not being his type?”
“That?” she said. “Reverse psychology.”
I just looked at her.
“What? I read books too, you know.”
“I can’t believe you,” I muttered.
“Well, I had to do something. You were taking way too long to get there on your own.” She tipped the glass to her lips again, obviously pleased with herself. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“I didn’t thank you,” I pointed out.
“You will.” I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, though. You guys are obviously crazy about each other. What’s the problem?”
“Karaoke is next!” Colin announced, sliding into his seat. “Idaho. Should we do our ABBA medley?”
“No,” I said, more firmly than I intended. It was like everything he did was wrong.
“We’ve got a whole routine. With dance moves.
” He leaned forward, holding up his hands.
“Picture this: It’s last spring. My family beach trip, and we go to this country-themed restaurant where all the servers have names like Bubba and Daisy.
Known for their karaoke. So the top prize was fifty bucks… ”
He’d raised his voice since starting, bit by bit. Sure enough, now Kasey was looking over, then my mom. Listening as he continued with this tale, every beat of which I knew by heart. It was so easy to get sucked in.
What’s the problem? Lana had asked. There were several. But this one I knew how to solve. I just had to do it.
“Colin,” I said, interrupting him. “We have to talk.”
An hour later, I was standing on the steps of the Woods, watching his taillights disappear down the driveway. Turned out you could step out of a tornado. I would let this one spin on without me.
I pulled out my phone, glancing at the screen. I had a text from Lana: Come to the pavilion we’re all here, time stamped twenty minutes earlier. When I’d last seen her, she was happily tipsy, riding off with Clark, Anne, and Jonathan.
I kicked off my shoes—heels borrowed from Anne, they pinched my toes something fierce—then picked them up by the straps and started up the stairs. It wasn’t until I got closer that I heard voices on the porch.
“The dinner was beautiful,” Kasey was saying. “I know we don’t like Kathy, but she did a good job.”
“We don’t not like her,” Liz told her. “She’s just stubborn and opinionated. It’s not a deal breaker.”
“Lucky for you,” my mom said. Kasey chuckled.
“And you,” Liz replied. It was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “I mean, a month ago you weren’t even really speaking to us.”
I dropped my hand from the door, knowing now was not the time to announce myself. Then my mom spoke.
“You’re right.” I tried to imagine her face as she said this. Before this summer, I’d seen only a couple of expressions, but now I had my pick. “It was a mistake. I regret it.”
A beat. Then Kasey: “Whoa. That was not the response I was expecting.”
“Me neither.” Liz sounded a bit stunned. She added, “I thought you hated me.”
“Of course not,” my mom told her. “It was just…”
I waited for this moment too to fizzle out or go any of the other ways it had since we’d been here. Something, everything, all our fault. The end, as Liz had said. But this time, my mom continued.
“There was some stuff that happened. With Dad.”
Another silence. Kasey said, “What are you talking about?”
“I don’t want to get into it now,” she replied. “Anne’s getting married. It’s a celebration. There’s no need to go dig up old dirt.”
“Cat.” That was Liz. “Tell us.”
A pause. Now I wished I was closer, if only to be there for her.
“He cheated on Mom,” she said finally. “The summer of their vow renewal. And other times too.”
No response from my aunts. I could only imagine their faces. Then Liz said, “That’s it?”
A beat. “That’s it?” my mom repeated.
“That’s the reason you left and cut ties with us for all these years?” Kasey sounded incredulous. “Because the Judge was unfaithful? Seriously?”
“We knew that,” Liz said. “So did half the town. Kate Bigby still gives me the stink eye every time she delivers a pizza.”
“H-h-old on.” My mom was literally stammering. “Did Mom know?”
“Well, I never asked her,” Liz replied. “But I can’t imagine how she could have been oblivious.”
“But that big anniversary party here, with the speeches…” My mom trailed off. “All the summers. I thought… I thought I had this piece of information that would destroy you if you knew.”
“So it was better to just drop your own sisters completely?” Kasey asked.
“I couldn’t have it both ways. You both worshipped him.”
“I wouldn’t say ‘worship,’ ” Liz replied. “He was clearly flawed. We just accepted it. What other choice was there?”
“Cut out and cut ties, apparently,” Kasey said. “Cat, I can’t believe you thought you had to keep that all to yourself.”
“It must have been awful.” Liz’s voice was so kind, I felt a lump rise in my own throat.
“I can’t believe you both knew,” my mom said.
“Well, it’s not my favorite memory,” Kasey conceded. “But it’s just part of this place. Like the house. And the hurricanes.”
Liz added, “A broken elbow from climbing out the window.”
“Mom dying.” A beat. Then Kasey added, “Marshall dying.”
“The sale. Your illness. And now the wedding.” Liz paused. “It has to all be mixed up together. There’s no other way.”
In the silence that followed, I realized: Earlier I’d wished I could be there, to support, or at least be present. But what was stopping me? I put my hand on the door, pulling it open.
When I came onto the porch, all three sisters turned. But it was my mom I kept my eyes on as I slid into a chair to join them. First, her face was surprised. Then a bit sad. And finally, nothing but grateful.