Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“ I have my dress,” Frances announced the next Friday night at her rehearsal.
We gathered in the sanctuary, waiting for all the family and wedding party to show up. So far we were still lacking a groom and his brother.
I tried to keep my eyes off the door. “The one from Dallas?”
“No, I’m wearing my mother’s dress.”
“The giant, eighties poufy thing you hated?”
“No, my mom’s cheongsam. It’s a traditional Chinese dress she wore right after her ceremony. Her grandmother bought it for her and had it shipped to the United States.”
“I think that’s perfect.”
“It’s red. It’s going to clash horribly with your dress.”
I smiled at my friend. “Nobody’s going to be looking at me.”
“My mom broke out her old sewing machine, and we let out a few seams and secured some buttons. I’d fought it, but when I tried it on, it was just . . . right. It was that feeling I’d been looking for. None of the others made me feel like a bride.”
“Sounds like everything is in place.”
She took a few deep breaths, as if the air around her bridal head was too thin. “We’re going to try and wrap up tonight early. I still have so much to do, and you really look like you could use the sleep.”
Translation: You look terrible enough to scare small children, and I only want happy tears at this wedding.
The doors to the sanctuary opened, and in walked a smiling Joey and Charlie, who looked like someone had just run over his dog.
Good. I hoped he felt as miserable as I did. I hoped it haunted him for the rest of his excessively handsome life. I hadn’t seen or talked to Charlie in a week. One long week of anger and what-ifs.
Joey made quick work of greeting his future in-laws, high-fiving and fist-bumping with each of Frances’s siblings and hugging her mom. He stuck out his arm to shake hands with Mr. Vega, but Frances’s dad was having none of that. Joey was pulled into a bear hug so intense, his eyes went round.
“Hello, Katie.” Charlie stood near enough that his arm brushed my shoulder.
A hundred things I wanted to say flashed through my mind like a slideshow on high speed. But I settled for one snippy word. “Hi.”
“I’m sorry about the settlement.”
The words were like a stinging slap to my face. “Right.” I left him standing there, deciding I’d rather talk to Frances’s brother.
The rehearsal lasted an hour, one agonizing hour in which I had to stand ten feet away from Charlie, as his brother and my best friend pretended to exchange their vows.
Finally the associate-pastor said, “It is good,” and set us free to move onto the final phase of the evening, the rehearsal dinner.
My twisted, knotted stomach said I couldn’t eat a thing, but I would go and put on a good face for an hour, then excuse myself and return to Maxine’s.
My grandmother and I had graduated from Golden Girls and progressed to a series about a gang of Harley riders who liked to beat people up .
Maxine said I could learn a few things from that show.
Giuseppie’s was an old post office converted into an Italian bistro five miles out of town.
They served homemade pasta, butter-dripping bread, and the waiters occasionally crooned at your table.
Frances’s father had wanted Mexican food, her mother Chinese, so of course, Frances chose another country entirely.
Frances’s father wouldn’t hear of my driving to the restaurant alone and wasn’t satisfied until I was buckled into the back of Joey’s SUV, Frances beside me and Charlie riding up front. It was a painful sojourn in which Frances and Charlie did all the talking, and I sat there as quietly as Joey.
We arrived at the restaurant, and Charlie opened my door.
“Thank you,” I muttered.
“Katie, wait.” He latched onto my elbow and gave a pointed look to the happy couple. “A moment, please.” Between the resolve on his face and the pressure on my arm, I knew saying no was not an option.
Frances and Joey walked into the restaurant hand-in-hand, lost in blissful, kissy wedding talk. Oblivious to my plight.
I jerked my arm from his grip. “What?”
“I get that you hate me, but do not bring it in to that restaurant. This is their night, and we’re not going to be a distraction.”
“Distraction.” The man needed a dictionary. “Is that what you call your company devouring part of my town? Is that what this has been for you?”
“You know that’s not how I—”
“Spare me.”
His hand slid down my shoulder, like it had a million times before. “No matter what’s between us, I do not want to see you lose your theater.”
The nerve! “You want me to calmly get through tonight? Then don’t speak to me, don’t touch me, don’t—”
“Well, hello there.”
Dread soured my stomach as I placed that voice.
It could only be Ian—standing behind me.
God, give me the strength to get through this day without maiming another human being.
I turned around to face my ex-boyfriend. “Hi.” My voice was as welcoming as a swarm of yellow jackets.
Ian studied the scene, that analytical brain no doubt in overdrive. The hostility between Charlie and me had to be as heavy as Loretta’s cast-iron skillet.
“So. . .tough few weeks, huh?” Ian’s smile was surprisingly melancholy. “Sweetheart, I really fell for your little theater. I wanted it to make it. Really.”
“Do not call her sweetheart.” Charlie curled an arm around me, ever the attentive fake fiancé.
“I know you wanted it to work out, Ian.” Unlike Charlie, who apparently couldn’t care less if the Valiant fell to ruin.
“Thank you for helping us. It was. . .strange to have you here. But we couldn’t have gotten as far as we did without you.
” I slipped from Charlie’s embrace and leaned into Ian, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”
“When are you leaving?”
At Charlie’s rude question, I blasted him with one of Maxine’s evil eyes, using way more eyebrow than necessary.
Ian just smiled. “I’m headed out early tomorrow. Thought I’d have one last dinner with the locals, and someone said this was the place to be. And you’re here celebrating. . . or drowning your sorrows?”
“Rehearsal dinner.”
His forehead wrinkled in a frown. “Yours?”
“No,” I said. “Frances and Joey’s.”
“I guess you’ll be celebrating your own wedding soon. The engagement is still on, right? It survived the Thrifty decision?”
“It did.” Testosterone dripped from Charlie’s every word.
I could all but feel him bowing up beside me, regarding Ian like a dog that had stepped into his yard.
“Katie?” Ian left the question hanging.
I was running out of energy to lie about this anymore. Who cared? “Yes.” I stiffened as Charlie pulled me in closer. “Still so. . .so. . ..” I sniffled and tried to think of the word.
“Happy,” Charlie finished. “Very happy.”
That wasn’t the word I’d been going for. “Right.”
Ian’s eyes searched mine. “I do hope you are happy. If you ever need anything—”
“She won’t.”
I mashed the spike of my heel onto Charlie’s toe. “Thank you, Ian. For all you did. And tried to do. For caring about the Valiant. For understanding what it’s worth and how much it meant to me.” Unlike some jerk I knew.
“We should go,” said the jerk. “Frances and Joey are probably ready to order.”
Ian looked so lonely standing there by himself. “You’re welcome to join—”
“The family is waiting for us,” Charlie interrupted. “Ian, good luck to you.”
“Thank you.”
I grabbed Ian’s hand and squeezed. “Goodbye.”
“You take care, Katie,” he said. “Oh, and Charlie”— Ian could sure do smug—“Might want to keep those steak knives from your happy fiancée.”
With Charlie’s palm pressed to the small of my back, we walked to our table.
“He’s charming,” Charlie muttered.
“At least he has a heart.”
“Which he freely shares. You should probably request a blood test before you touch it again.”
“He cheated on me with one girl.”
“One more than I ever did.”
I stopped right beside a table of an elderly couple. “Do you want to talk about what you did do? Because as long as we’re maligning Ian, we might as well discuss your grievances as well.”
His jaw tight, Charlie smiled at the couple now thoroughly absorbed in our conversation. “Sorry to interrupt your dinner.” Grabbing my hand, he pulled me toward a dark alcove away from the listening ears of any In Betweenites.
Between the isolated spot and his hands getting a little too free with my person, I had had enough. “Don’t even think of putting any moves on me, buster.”
“Would you just quit squirming and listen?” He waited ’til I stilled and managed to meet his angry stare. “This is Joey and Frances’s rehearsal dinner. It’s not going to be the Katie and Charlie show. I know you’re mad— ”
“Furious.”
“I know you’re furious—”
“Like the fire-breathing, head spinning, hell summoning—”
“But no matter what you feel, we cannot ruin this for Frances and Joey. Or my mom.”
“Your mother?”
He raked his fingers through his hair, releasing a gusty sigh.
“Joey and I live in different parts of the country. I don’t know when my family will be together again after this wedding, and I want it to go perfect for everyone involved.
We’re not going to bring our differences into this weekend.
We get through this wedding, and then we talk. Are we clear?”
“We have nothing left to say.”
“Katie, if we have anything in common right now, it’s that we both love at least one member of the wedding party.
This is about them.” A pleading note entered his tone.
“Save your anger for later. When we’re done, when Frances and Joey drive away tomorrow, you can yell and curse me all you want.
But until then, we’re going to make sure that those two have a great wedding, and everyone’s happy. ”
If he was trying to shame me into compliance, it was working.
Charlie stood there and waited for my response, the dim lights casting shadows on his chiseled face. A face I used to love tracing with my hands. Which usually led to my hands traveling to his hair. Which usually led to—”