26
Captain Wentworth jealous of her affection! —Persuasion
Freddy West is always beautiful, but tonight, dressed in a suit, he is downright lethal. As we practiced the song, I wanted to throw my arms around him and never let go. He’s talking to my aunt and uncle and cousins. They all seem to be getting along. I wish I were at that table. As it is, I have to listen to Johnny and my dad talk about their dating show. I shouldn’t complain. I’m thrilled that my dad is even considering going back to work. It’s just that I’d much rather be sitting next to Freddy.
I try my best to be polite to Johnny, especially considering I broke up with him on Wednesday. “Broke up” is too strong because, despite what the tabloids say, Johnny and I were never a couple. I’m not convinced he was interested in me romantically. Though he may have convinced himself.
After dinner, Johnny and my dad continued their conversation, hammering out details at our house. I stuck around because I knew I needed to make it clear to Johnny that we didn’t have a future together. It was already awkward enough with him hosting September’s wedding. Still, with the added complication of my dad possibly working for him, I needed to make sure Johnny understood my feelings. Fortunately, my dad was tired after staying up most of the night before bingeing Bridgerton .
As soon as Dad left that night, I took my chance. “Johnny, you are great. And really so good with my dad. There’s so much more to you than I realized. But...”
“You are in love with someone else.” He finished my sentence.
“Maybe.”
“Freddy West.”
“I hope...” I must have sounded a little anxious because Johnny took my hand.
“You have nothing to worry about. I’ve seen how he looks at you.”
“How?”
“Like you are his past and his future. I better go now,” he said. “I have to meet the gardeners early in the morning to make sure everything looks perfect for the wedding.”
I wanted to remind him that no one forced him to offer up his house. But I bit my tongue. Johnny is saving us so much money. And though I suspect that he offered his home not only to win points with me but also to butter up my dad, I also know that no one relishes rejection.
“Thank you for turning your life upside down to host this wedding.”
“Your father signing that contract will be all the thanks I need.”
I walked with him to the front door. We stood on the front steps, resplendent with the bachelorette party flower installation. Johnny was the one who suggested a Bridgerton bachelorette party. That must have been part of his plot to convince my dad to leave retirement for his Regency era dating show. Come to think of it, Johnny was the one who insisted we invite my dad. I’m not sure why I went along. The father of the bride rarely attends the bachelorette party. If that was Johnny’s scheme, it certainly worked, and I can’t complain.
Before leaving, Johnny kissed my cheek. “Goodnight, April Rain. Don’t worry. You’ve only bruised my heart, not broken it.” The last line was a bit dramatic. In my mind, we were always totally casual. On the other hand, Johnny has always claimed to be a terrible actor. And he did appear a little hurt.
Tonight, however, he seems fully recovered. He and my dad have been talking non-stop about the new show. This is obviously a passion project for Johnny. I ask him why he didn’t want to host his own show.
“Oh! I could never do it. I’m too shallow. We need someone with your father’s gravitas.”
My dad nods along seriously, already slipping into his role. I do see Johnny’s point. Dean Elliot will not only look great dressed as a Regency gent, but he will also provide comedic relief.
Johnny segues into my plans to start a company as a financial advisor to young stars. He promises to put in a good word for me with his friends and associates, which is basically everyone.
“And maybe your own son could use her,” Dad hints.
“Remington will not be acting,” Johnny says curtly.
My dad seems perplexed. “Whyever not?”
“I suppose, if he really wants to after he finishes college, I won’t stop him.”
“But it’s good to start young,” insists my dad. “That’s what I did. That’s what April did.”
Johnny puts on a plastic smile. “And we’re all so lucky you did. But this life is not for my son. Let’s talk about your filming schedule.” He deftly changes the conversation, and I must say, I could learn a thing or two from Johnny Love. He’s excellent at managing my dad.
***
“So, do you know much about this guy Rosie is dating?” Mr. Musgrove asks me as they clear the salads.
“Boris? Yeah, he’s a good guy.”
“I hope so,” says Gloria. “Rosie seems serious about him.”
“I’d say,” says Chuck Musgrove. “Those two can’t keep their hands off each other.
“It’s hard being a parent,” sighs Mrs. Musgrove. “You have no control over who your children date.”
“Tell me about it,” says Johnny. “Remington’s only seven, and I worry so much about his future.”
“You’re a good dad,” I tell him. “Remington is really lucky.”
Johnny beams at the praise. “Thank you, April.” I smile back, genuinely relieved that things between Johnny and I will be okay.
I can’t go too long without my Freddy fix. As soon as Johnny’s distracted by the arrival of the entrees, I glance over at Freddy’s table. He’s not there. I spy his broad back retreating out the door.
Why is he leaving? I was looking forward to talking to him later tonight.
Without saying a word, I get up and chase him down. Once outside, I call to his fleeing figure.
“Freddy!” My yell is harsh over the mellow song of crickets.
He stops beside his Jeep. I run to catch up.
Breathless, I ask, “Why are you leaving?’
“I...” He struggles to speak. His eyes glisten. Has he been crying? “There’s no reason for me to stay.” His voice is cold and angry. He opens the door to his Jeep. “Sorry, I have to go.”
He climbs in, and the engine roars to life.
His tires scatter gravel as his taillights recede into the night. I stand there until the Jeep is gone, and once again, the only sound is crickets. Watching him drive off, I feel a peculiar bittersweet sensation. I’m sorry to see him leave. But my hopes are rising. Because after months of doubt and second-guessing, I finally see clearly. It was written all over his face—Freddy cares. He cares about me. Freddy West is jealous.
I stumble back to the house in a daze, stopping for a minute to sit on a bench near the barn.
“April!!!” September has followed me out. “What is going on? Why did Freddy leave? Rainy! Why are you crying?”
“I’m in love with him.”
“Him? Freddy?” Understanding lights her face. “You love Freddy.”
“Yes! And I should have told him sooner.”
She huffs out a breath. “You should have told me sooner,” September says with some heat. “I tell you everything. I texted you, like, the first time Carlos kissed me. Oh, my goodness. Rainy! Have you kissed Freddy West?”
“No.” I sob. “I mean, yes, but not really. We were interrupted, and before that, it’s been... five... years.” I start another crying jag.
“Rainy.” September sits on the bench, wrapping her arms around me. I crawl into them like a child in her mother’s arms, except I haven’t had a parent’s embrace like this in forever. As the older sister, I’ve always comforted September, and this reversal of roles feels wonderful.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make a scene. Tonight is your night.”
“How can I enjoy it when you’re upset?”
“I’m not that upset.”
September gives me an incredulous glare.
“Maybe I am, but I can pull it together. And I’m not without hope. I think he left because he’s jealous.”
“Oh! Of Johnny Love! I bet he is. The gossips are all saying you two are going to get married.”
“No . . . oh, no!”
“There were pictures taken of you two the other night. How did you miss that?”
“I’ve been busy getting ready for your wedding.”
September pulls me into another hug. “All my life, you have been both mother and sister to me. I don’t thank you enough. I’m sorry.”
And now I’m blubbering because it feels so good to have my sister acknowledge my efforts. As we cry together, I feel the shell of brittle resentment shielding my heart shatter and crumble into a thousand pieces and fall away, leaving my heart soft and vulnerable and open.
“I love you,” I tell September through my tears.
“I know; I love you, too. You have always done so much for me that, I guess, I take you for granted.”
“That’s often how it is with a parent’s love,” I say. “And I’ve been mothering you since you were little.”
“True, but that’s not how it should be with a sister.”
“We’re figuring it out.”
“It sounds like we have some catching up to do. Freddy West?” She raises her brows.
“I’ll tell you later. We’d better get back to the party.”
“Always the grown-up,” September sighs. “I was for ditching the party. Carlos would understand.”
“I know, and that’s why he’s going to be a great husband. But let’s not embarrass the Musgroves. Also, I’ve barely had a chance to visit with Uncle Frank and Aunt Darlene.”
“Fine, but help me with my makeup first.”
***
The rest of the night goes smoothly. No one asks about my sudden departure, and as long as I can keep from thinking about Freddy’s wounded expression, I enjoy catching up with family and friends. When we get home at nearly midnight, the light is on in Freddy’s bungalow. The curtains are open. I feel certain he left them open for me. He is playing guitar and has a notebook in hand. I want to call him. No, I want to run over and visit him. It’s late, but maybe we can still have that talk. But first, I’ll send a text. I look for my phone and realize I left it downstairs in my purse. I stand to get it when September knocks on my door.
She’s wearing her new pink pajama shorts and holding a large slice of cake from the bachelorette party.
“Okay, Rainy, time to spill the tea.” She holds up two forks. “Tell me all about you and the rock star.”
“You’re getting married tomorrow. You don’t want to talk about my pathetic love life.”
“Are you kidding? I like, live for this. Do you know how much I always wanted you to share this stuff with me?”
“I had no idea, really.” Growing up, my main goal was to protect September from all strife. I became so used to keeping all my problems to myself, I may have held back too much. I always thought of my sister as a little self-centered like our Dad but not quite as narcissistic. It never occurred to me that she didn’t talk to me about my stuff because I never shared anything real with her.
“Are you certain you want to hear this?” I ask again. It feels so weird to talk about me.
“Yes!!! Tell me everything. Don’t spare a single detail.” We sit side by side on my bed, each taking bites of the delicious chocolate cake while I tell her all about how I first met Freddy.
“I bet you thought he was sooo hot.”
“I did, like some perfect sea god paddling up on his surfboard.”
I tell her how I was the one who wanted to get married. “Freddy wasn’t opposed to the idea. But he thought that we should wait a few years. But I was so desperate to move out and be on my own. And I had my Pinterest board with my fairytale wedding. Whenever I brought it up, he told me it was a crazy plan. And then he totally surprised me and proposed!”
“He proposed!” September’s reaction is priceless. Why have I been keeping all this from her? It is so much fun to tell her. “You said yes; tell me you said yes!” She’s bouncing up and down on the bed.
“I did, and for one week we were happy.”
“I bet you were. I can’t believe it—you were engaged to Freddy West.”
“I was.” I take a bite of the cake. As I savor it, I remember how ecstatic we were. I am hopeful that things will work out with Freddy. But I expect it will take some work, getting back to where we were. When we first met, we had a simple, uncomplicated love. We didn’t even know how lucky we were. “He even asked Dad for his permission.”
“And Dad gave it?”
“He did, albeit reluctantly, but then Janene started freaking out, saying he was after my money, and I started thinking about how miserable Mom had been. I couldn’t do that to Freddy. All the grown-ups in my life told me he was after my money. I didn’t believe them, but their concerns made me pause. I knew I didn’t know what it meant to be married. And I was certain Freddy had no idea what he was signing up for. The constant media glare about destroyed Mom.”
“Freddy isn’t Mom.”
“I know.”
“But maybe you are more like her,” September says with dawning realization. “That’s why you don’t want to be a singer anymore. You really hate it?”
“I do. I know performing looks like fun. And sometimes it is. But being away from it all was such a relief. Even with my broken heart, I finally knew how to be myself.”
September nods.
“I’m not certain I like being an influencer.”
“Tell me more.”
“I just hit 300,000 followers, and I’m finally making real money, but...”
“Yes?”
“Some comments are so hurtful. Dad’s not the only reason I was crying in the bridal shop.” She starts silently weeping. “I can’t make everyone like me.”
“No one can, sweetie, no one can. One of the hardest realizations I made in therapy was that I will never make everyone happy. No matter how hard I try, someone will always be disappointed in me.”
“I hate that.”
“Me too, but the silver lining is that once you accept that you can’t make everyone happy, you can focus on what will make you happy.”
“But why are they all so mean? You know what hurts the most?”
“When they’re right,” I answer from years of experience.
“Yes!!! Someone called me out for, like, being selfish and frivolous.” She lets out a louder sob, and I hand her a tissue. “Rainy! I am selfish and frivolous.” I pull her in closer and let her cry it out. After her whimpers die down, she looks up at me as if she has a new idea. “You must have been so annoyed when I kept talking about how much Freddy liked Daisy.”
“It killed me to watch him flirt with the twins.”
“I bet it killed him to watch you go out with Johnny Love.”
I think of him tearing out of dinner tonight. “Maybe.”
“So, are you two like together?”
“Not yet, but... I’m hopeful.” I tell her about our late-night phone calls and going to his concert. We stay up way too late chatting about all the things I should have told her long ago. As it nears 2 a.m., I remind September that it’s her wedding day, and she needs to get some rest.
“One last question?” she says as she climbs under my covers. “How is Freddy West in bed? I bet he’s AMAZING.” I cover my face with my hands. “I knew it!” shrieks September. “Your face says it all. I knew how he would be with those capable hands.” Apparently, I am still a little bit buttoned-up because I am not going to discuss this with my sister.
“All I will say is that he’s an excellent kisser.”
“And no more?” My sister asks, giving me sad puppy dog eyes.
“Give me a break; I just shared with you more about my feelings than I have my entire life.”
“And how do you feel?”
“Exposed.”
September cackles. “The bachelorette party was incredible, out of this world. But this...” She taps my forehead and then my heart. “Having you really share stuff with me. It’s a million times better.”
We fall asleep in my bed, snuggled up like squirrels, just like we did as little girls.