Chapter 35 Gracie
Wedding Day
This morning, when my eyes snapped open two hours before my alarm, I knew there was no point trying to go back to sleep. I got up carefully, trying not to disturb Jude, who showed up last night with pizza, wine, and a deeply appreciated “How can I help?”
After letting me read my entire coordination schedule to him (twice), he forced me to relax and get some sleep. Eventually. But now that Wedding Day has cometh, I’ve had the energy and hyperfocus of an overcaffeinated bomb squad all day.
I take a breath, glancing at the grandfather clock behind the milling wedding party to make sure we’re still on schedule. Somehow, despite having to work within this ridiculously short time frame, everything I’ve planned has gone off without a hitch today.
Well, almost everything.
Checking to make sure that Phoebe is still distributing bouquets and that none of Brooke’s bridesmaids are sneaking shots or trying to leap off the furniture, I pull out my phone.
Gracie: Please let me know when you have the cake and you’re on your way back.
Jude: That’s the third way you’ve phrased the same request in under 10 minutes. Impressive.
Gracie: JUDE.
Jude: I will let you know when the cake is secured. Unclench your jaw.
I note with annoyance that my jaw is, in fact, clenched and make an effort to relax it.
This morning, when Valerie told me there had been a family emergency and no one was available to deliver the cake, I was on the verge of panic.
But then a pair of large, warm hands were smoothing my shoulders down my back.
I’ll take care of it, he’d said against my neck.
Exhaling, my jaw loosens, and my phone vibrates.
Jude: See? Isn’t that better?
I shake my head, a reluctant smile tugging at my lips.
Gracie: Good to know you’re not beyond planting a Nanny Cam, perv.
Jude: I would never.
Gracie: Sure. Just tell me which potted plant I should flash.
Jude: Stop before you melt Siri. I’m trying to be a safe driver here, Gracie.
Gracie:
Jude: Does your dress fit? It’s all I can think about.
I catch my reflection in the polished glass of the intricately carved bookcase I’m standing next to, and my cheeks heat.
This morning, I woke up to a pile of iconic black-and-white boxes that had no business gracing my shabby kitchenette table.
When I insisted there was no way I’d be accepting a gift so outrageous, he gave me the saddest puppy eyes to ever puppy.
“Just try them on, at least,” he’d said.
“This is ridiculous. I don’t need gifts like this.”
He’d laughed. “I think we can both agree that this is a gift for myself.”
“Just because you have the money to be a sugar daddy, doesn’t mean I want a sugar daddy,” I’d argued. “I love the way you want to take care of me, but this might be too much.”
This had sobered him. “The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable. If you don’t get pleasure out of this, then I don’t either.”
It was the lack of pressure and his sincerity that made me reconsider. In the end, I agreed to try it on as an experiment, but only after he’d left to get the cake. When I finally lifted the lid of the largest box with trembling hands, there was a note inside.
Not a Gracie Holland original, but I hear they make an okay LBD.
Heart in my throat, my brain connected the dots—this wasn’t some random luxury brand but the one responsible for the iconic Breakfast at Tiffany’s dress I’d tried re-creating for Agatha’s funeral. I carefully folded back the tissue paper and was confronted by an oil spill of blackest silk.
My chest squeezes as I take in the perfect silhouette in the reflection of the bookcase.
I knew it would be beautiful—how could it not be?
But what I didn’t expect was how cherished I would feel in it.
Or how desired. I smooth the fabric over my hips as warmth builds low in my belly.
I think of the last and tiniest box, which held another note.
To match your other bows.
Flushing, I realize I haven’t responded to him and still have a wedding to coordinate. I fire off a quick text back.
Gracie: You should be thinking about the CAKE. Get back soon, I miss you.
“Gracie, hey.”
Turning quickly, I see Calvin coming toward me with a grin stretched across his face.
He looks incredibly handsome in his tux, but all the heartache I anticipated feeling on this day is nowhere to be found.
Instead, there’s only regret for spending so much time pining over someone I thought was too good for me, when all along, he simply wasn’t right for me.
“Hey, Cal,” I respond, smiling.
“Wow,” he says, giving me a once-over. “You look beautiful, Gracie.”
“Thank you,” I say, barely feeling an echo of what those words would have meant to me just a couple of months ago. “How are you feeling? Ready for the big walk?”
He puffs out his cheeks and lets out a big exhale. “More than ready, thanks to you. I don’t know how you managed to pull something like this off in so little time, but it’s more than we ever dreamed of. Even Brookey’s parents haven’t found something to frown at.”
I wave a hand like the last two sleep-deprived months of my life were a joyful skip through the park. “It was my pleasure.”
The smile on his face tightens a little. “I’m sure it wasn’t. In fact, I’d be willing to bet my left ass cheek that it was one giant headache from the word go.”
“Just the left one?” I ask with a smile.
“Fine, both,” he says.
I give a modest shrug. “It was a lot of work, but I’ve had help,” I say, my mind sliding to Jude. “All of the vendors really pulled through for this.”
Calvin looks down at his polished wing tips. “Yeah, but I don’t just mean the work.”
I’m silent at this, and he looks up sheepishly. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, sorry for asking you in the first place.”
“Oh,” I say faintly.
He rubs the back of his neck. “I knew it was out of line, but honestly, I had been looking for an excuse to get in touch, and at the time, it felt like two birds with one stone.” He presses his lips together. “It was… dumb. I know. Especially after the way I ended things with us and then kind of…”
“Disappeared?” I finish for him, stunned to be getting any kind of apology at this point.
“Yeah,” he says heavily. “I know it’s not an excuse, but you were always so… intimidating.”
My eyes bug. “What?”
He shrugs. “It’s true. You know I’ve never strayed from the playbook.
Went to school where my parents went. Took the job they set up for me.
But you were never afraid to have these huge, creative dreams and make something of yourself.
It made me feel… I don’t know. Small, I guess.
And sometimes—” His sandy eyebrows come together as he frowns.
“Sometimes, it made me want to make you feel even smaller. I hated that about myself, so… I left.”
I swallow hard. If I’d had even an inkling of this two years ago, or enough self-worth to shake off his rejection instead of internalizing it, where would I be now?
Not at Larkwood, a little voice whispers through me.
I shake my head to clear it. “Why are you telling me all of this now?”
He takes a deep breath and looks over his shoulder to where the wedding party is taking selfies across the room. Brooke hasn’t come down from the bridal suite with Sofia yet, but I know he’s thinking of her.
“One thing about Brooke,” he says slowly, “is that she doesn’t mind calling me out.
I tried pulling the same crap with her at work, and she wasn’t having it.
I think, over time, I started waking up.
I’ve wanted to apologize to you for a while now, and I guess today kind of seemed like the last chance to clear the air? ”
He says this last bit like he’s asking for permission, and I’m not going to lie—there’s still an itty-bitty part of me that still wants to blame him for my choice to give up on Grace & Veil and go into permanent hiding beneath my Snuggie.
But it’s a squeak compared to the much louder part of me that’s finally accepting my own role in all of this.
So, I take a breath and give him a smile that feels like sweet relief as years of baggage drop from my shoulders. “Thanks for saying all of that. I’m more than ready to move on as friends, Cal.”
The surprised grin he gives me is so boyish and genuine, I don’t stop him when he comes in for a hug. “Thanks, Gracie. You were always too good for me.”
“Not true,” I say against his shoulder. “We learned exactly what we needed from each other, and no one can ask for more than that.”
He lets out a relieved exhale as someone from across the room calls his name. I gently pry him off me and whisper, “Come on. Let’s go get you hitched.”
The ceremony is perfect. Fluffy white clouds skim across the balmy blue sky, and every rose in the garden is in full bloom. Brooke and Calvin are gorgeous together, even if Brooke’s makeup doesn’t quite cover up the still-healing lump on her forehead.
Standing in the same portico where I once crumpled in Agatha’s arms, it’s incredible to me that I feel so much peace now. I only wish she were here to witness it. Despite all odds, I not only found the closure she wanted for me, but also the love she predicted I’d find where I least expected it.
My stomach fizzes like champagne when I think of Jude, racing back to me.
Today, the charade we’ve been playing is finally coming to an end.
But for once, I’m not afraid. He’s seen how important Larkwood is to the vendors who rely on it.
And while we still might not see eye to eye on the issue of Agatha’s legacy, I’m beginning to believe that I’ve proven to Jude that love can be found.
It might be rare and precious, but that only makes it more worthy of celebrating. Hopefully, right here at Larkwood.
At the sudden swell of cheers and whistles, I look up to see Calvin and Brooke, sharing their first kiss as a married couple. My heart is so full for them, and for my own future, too, but my moment of reverie is over.