Chapter 13
13
“What are we going to do?” Sophie whispered to her older sister. “Nothing’s turning out like we planned.”
“You’re telling me?” Bailey muttered back. Dinner was on the table. The lasagna, with the salad next to it, sat in the center. Wooden serving utensils leaned against the side of the large salad bowl. The bread was out of the oven, and the warm pungent scent of butter and garlic wafted through the house.
Peering out the swinging kitchen door into the formal dining room, Bailey saw that the situation was even worse than she’d realized. Mom was in one corner of the room, deep in conversation with Ted Reynolds. Danielle and Dad stood on the opposite side. Danielle appeared to be talking Kent’s ears off, no doubt regaling him with horror stories of the time she’d spent alone with his daughters. She was clutching her cell phone—again. While Kent and Beth were away, she’d made repeated calls but hadn’t connected, growing more and more frustrated. Her impatience with Bailey and Sophie had increased just as quickly.
Okay, so that part of their plan had worked perfectly. Danielle had been stuck with the two of them, and she hadn’t liked it one bit. She’d been outsmarted by Beth and wasn’t in any mood to be friendly with Bailey and Sophie. Besides, she was distracted, frequently calling and texting some unknown person.
Not long after their parents left, Bailey and Sophie had learned that Danielle knew next to nothing about making a Caesar salad. She assumed all salad dressing came out of a bottle. When Bailey informed her their mother made her own, Danielle snarled that she could make her own, too, only she needed a recipe. Tearing through Beth’s cookbooks, she finally came up with one but was disgusted by half the ingredients. No way was she using anchovies! In the end, she’d opted for the bottled Italian dressing she’d found in the fridge.
“Your mother makes her own dressing. Oh, yeah, I can tell!” Danielle had brandished the half-full bottle. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” she’d raged. “You’re just saying that so I’ll feel inferior.” Danielle fumed until Kent returned. Her cell phone was in her hands constantly, and her thumbs worked at sending text messages. Bailey and Sophie had several whispered conversations about it, wondering who she was trying so hard to reach.
Danielle had cornered Kent in the dining room, her mouth moving at warp speed. It didn’t look as if Dad had an opportunity to say much of anything.
Bailey refused to believe he was dumb enough to actually fall for Danielle. It contradicted everything she knew about her father.
The instant their parents had walked in the house, Bailey sensed something was wrong. She’d quickly discovered the cause. Mom had invited Ted Reynolds to dinner. Oh, great. Based on what she’d heard from Beth, Bailey had suspected for a month or two that Ted was interested in their mother. The invitation had probably been a defensive move on Beth’s part; unfortunately, it’d sent the wrong message to Dad.
Now Bailey and Sophie were battling on two fronts. They certainly could’ve done without this additional complication.
“Look at them,” Sophie muttered as the sisters peeked out the door. Mom was still talking to Ted, with her back to Dad, who also had his back to her. If that wasn’t bad enough, Danielle chattered at their father like a noisy crow. Her parents couldn’t even look at each other. Communication, what little there was of it, had come to a complete standstill.
“This isn’t going to work.” Bailey felt like dumping the so-called Caesar salad over her parents’ heads. “We need to figure out what to do next.”
Sophie nodded. “We’ve got to think of something fast.”
“This divorce should never have happened,” Bailey moaned—not for the first time. If she or Sophie had guessed their parents were planning to split up, the girls would’ve stepped in much earlier. Now the situation was much more difficult, and there were other people involved. Now she and her sister were stuck cleaning up the mess.
Bailey shrugged. She brought the salad plates into the dining room and said, “Dinner’s ready if you’d like to sit down.” She did her best to sound cheerful and festive.
They took the chairs closest to where they stood. That put Danielle beside their father, and Ted and their mother across from them, leaving the two end chairs for Bailey and Sophie.
“Mom made the lasagna,” Bailey said, although everyone already knew that. Before she could mention Danielle’s role in their dinner, the other woman broke in.
“And I made the salad and the bread, which I’m sure you’ll find delicious.”
Both men smiled, apparently impressed with the woman who’d managed to spread garlic butter on a sliced baguette. From their admiring gazes, one would think Danielle was qualified to open her own restaurant.
Bailey wanted to point out that the lasagna had required a great deal more expertise than buttering bread. She opened her mouth, but before she could utter a word, she caught her mother’s look. Funny how much Mom could communicate in a single glance. Bailey snapped her mouth shut.
Beth served generous slices of lasagna. The salad and bread were passed around the table to sighs of appreciation. Ted poured the wine he’d brought with him. After filling the glasses, he looked around the table. “A toast?”
They all raised their goblets, but before Ted could speak, their father beat him to it. “To a wonderful meal shared with family and friends.”
“Hear, hear,” Ted added. They all touched the rims of their glasses, then tasted the wine.
“This is excellent,” Beth said, praising Ted’s choice.
“Very good,” Kent agreed.
Wine, Bailey mused. That was it. A common link—her parents were both interested in wine. Well, so was Ted, but she was going to ignore that.
“It’s a pinot noir,” Ted was saying, “from Oregon.”
“Ted and I discovered it a couple of weeks ago at a fundraising event,” Beth said. “I generally prefer the rich, deep reds, so this one took me by surprise.”
Oh, yes, life was full of surprises, Bailey thought. Some of them weren’t pleasant, either—her mother and father being a prime example.
Dinner became less awkward as they enjoyed the wine and the meal. Conversation revolved around the holidays. Beth talked about the ski trip to Whistler, and the girls chimed in, excited at the prospect of an entire week on the slopes. In the past it had been a family trip, with their father included.
As soon as everyone had finished, Bailey and Sophie jumped up, eager for an excuse to leave.
Bailey carried two dinner plates into the kitchen and set them in the sink. Sophie followed with two more.
“Why didn’t you do something?” her sister hissed. “Getting Mom and Dad back together was your idea.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to do everything, does it?” she returned in a heated whisper. A few suggestions from her younger sister certainly would’ve helped.
Back in the dining room, Bailey could see that Danielle was texting on her cell phone again, keeping it hidden below the table, although everyone knew what she was doing.
“I’m afraid we’ll have to leave early,” Kent said reluctantly. “Unfortunately, Danielle isn’t feeling well.”
“Can I get you anything?” Beth asked, sounding concerned.
Bailey wanted to suggest a broom, but her little joke was unlikely to be appreciated, so she said nothing.
“I apologize,” Danielle murmured, pressing her fingertips to her temple. “I have a terrible headache that won’t go away.”
A headache? That was the weakest excuse in the book. A regular ol’ headache? Couldn’t she be a bit more imaginative? Perhaps a sprained thumb from all that texting?
“So you won’t be able to come to church services with us?” Sophie asked with such a lack of sincerity it was embarrassing.
“I think I should get Danielle back to the bed-and-breakfast,” their father said.
Mom didn’t waste any time retrieving their coats. Standing at the front door, their dad loitered a moment, as if he wanted to say something else. “It was a lovely day,” he finally said.
“Thank you,” Beth said simply.
“Kent?” Danielle insisted.
“When will I see you again?” Kent asked, directing the question to Beth. His eyes held hers.
“Ah...”
“Mom.” Bailey jabbed her elbow into her mother’s side.
“Tomorrow?” Beth suggested, poking her right back. “Christmas morning. You and Danielle are welcome to join us.”
Danielle shook her head. “I doubt—”
Kent cut her off. “What time?”
“Anytime you want, Dad,” Bailey threw in. “Early, though. You should be here when we open gifts.”
“I have a really bad headache,” Danielle reminded him.
“Why don’t we wait until morning and see how Danielle feels,” Beth said.
Their mother was being far too congenial. In fact, she was ruining everything. Bailey had hoped it would be just the four of them. If her parents could be together, remember Christmases past and enjoy each other’s company, then maybe they’d finally figure things out....
Their father shook Ted’s hand. Why did everyone have to be so darned polite? The two men locked eyes for an instant. Bailey hoped her father was staking claim to Beth, but she couldn’t read his expression.
“Bailey and I’ll do dishes,” Sophie offered.
Bailey stared at Sophie. What was her sister doing? The last thing they needed was to give their mother time alone with the local vet. She was half-smitten with him already. Smitten. That was an old-fashioned word, one their grandmother might have used, but Bailey had always been fond of it.
She followed her sister into the kitchen. “Why’d you do that?” she cried.
“I thought you wanted to discuss ideas about getting Mom and Dad together.”
“By leaving her alone with Ted? ”
“Oh...yeah. I guess I didn’t think about that.”
“No kidding! Well, you keep an eye on them,” commanded Bailey. “If they get too close, tell me.” Sophie obediently pushed the door open a crack and looked out. Bailey started loading the dishwasher. Thankfully, their mother had emptied it earlier, so all Bailey had to do was put the rinsed dishes inside.
“You ready to go back out?” she asked five minutes later.
Sophie shook her head. “No,” she said flatly. “Go ahead without me.”
“No.” It was important to Bailey that they present a united front.
Her sister took her time transferring the leftover salad to another bowl and wrapping up the bread, which Bailey noticed had barely been touched. She didn’t want to be catty but Danielle had been a little too generous with the garlic. Their father hadn’t tasted more than a bite or two. And Bailey was convinced he’d only eaten that to be polite.
To her credit, Danielle had created a halfway decent salad using the bottled dressing. But then who could go wrong with store-bought dressing?
“What are Mom and Ted doing now?” Sophie asked.
Bailey peeked out the swinging door, stepping around her sister. She saw that her mother and Ted had returned to the dining room table and were finishing their coffee. The atmosphere was almost...intimate, vastly different from what it’d been earlier. His arm across the back of an empty chair, Ted was leaning back, speaking animatedly about one thing or another. Whatever he was saying obviously amused Beth, who laughed more than once. She looked relaxed and at ease.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be! It should be Dad in that chair. It should be Kent laughing with Mom. Not Ted Reynolds. Bailey didn’t have anything against him; he was a decent guy. But he wasn’t their father.
“Well?” Sophie said from behind her.
“They’re getting along just fine,” Bailey muttered.
“We should break it up,” Sophie said, drying her hands on a kitchen towel. Everything was inside the refrigerator and the counters were wiped clean.
Bailey swung open the door. “Okay if we join you?” she asked, feigning cheerfulness.
“By all means.” Ted removed his arm from the back of the chair, straightened and set his cup on the table.
“How long have you two known each other?” Sophie asked.
“A while.” Beth was the one who answered. “I’ve brought more than one dog to Ted. He helps me with the rescues, too.”
“You must like animals,” Sophie went on.
Bailey thought that was a dumb remark. The guy was a vet; obviously he liked animals.
“I do.” Ted hesitated. He must’ve thought it was a dumb remark, too. But then he added, “And I like your mother.”
His announcement fell like bricks from the sky.
“What about my dad?” Bailey asked.
“Yeah, our dad,” Sophie echoed plaintively.
“Oh, dear,” Beth whispered. “If you two have any hopes that your father and I are getting back together, you need to forget them. It’s much too late for that.”