Chapter 5
If Grace had learned anything over the next two weeks, it was that Brooklyn never pushed hard enough to be caught.
She nudged.
She suggested.
She anticipated.
She arrived just early enough, stayed just long enough, and apologized just often enough that objecting to her felt churlish.
Grace kept a running list in the Notes app on her phone, not because she intended to show it to anyone, but because she had begun to doubt her own memory.
Monday: Brooklyn emailed everyone in the bridal party a suggested color palette for getting-ready pajamas. She prefaced it with, "Obviously Grace gets the final say! Just brainstorming."
Grace hadn't asked anyone to brainstorm.
Wednesday: Brooklyn dropped off a binder at Elaine's house labeled Wedding Timeline. Elaine raved about how organized it was. Half the information inside came from conversations Grace had already had with vendors.
Friday: Brooklyn texted Luke asking whether he preferred signature cocktails or an open bar "so I know what to tell your college friends."
Luke forwarded the message to Grace with a shrugging emoji. No idea why she's asking me.
Grace stared at it for a long moment before replying. Me neither.
It was the first time Luke hadn't answered Brooklyn immediately.
The tasting at Bellissimo was scheduled for Saturday afternoon.
Grace had been looking forward to it since they booked the venue. Choosing food felt wonderfully ordinary compared to navigating family politics. It would simply be her, Luke, a chef, and too many miniature desserts.
Or so she thought.
They were halfway there when Luke's phone rang over the Bluetooth speakers.
"Mom," he said, glancing at the dashboard.
Grace looked out the passenger window.
"Go ahead."
He answered.
"Hey, Mom."
Elaine's cheerful voice filled the truck.
"Hi, sweetheart. I just wanted to make sure you remembered to ask about vegetarian entrées for Aunt Susan."
"I've got it."
"And tell Grace not to worry. Brooklyn already sent the chef your dietary notes."
Luke frowned.
"What?"
Grace turned her head.
Elaine sounded surprised. "Oh. Didn't she tell you?"
Luke glanced quickly at Grace.
"No."
"She called me yesterday because she wanted to make sure everything was perfect. She said Grace is so busy with work that she thought she'd save her a phone call."
Luke pressed the button on the steering wheel.
"I'll call you later, Mom."
He disconnected before Elaine could respond. Silence settled over the cab. Grace watched farmland slip past outside the window.
Luke tightened both hands on the steering wheel. "I didn't know."
"I know."
"I told her to go through you."
"I know." He sighed.
"I'll say something."
Grace looked over at him. "No."
He shot her an incredulous look. "No?"
"Not yet."
"Grace."
"I want to see something."
"What?"
She folded her hands in her lap. "I want to see whether she tells me herself."
Bellissimo occupied a restored nineteenth-century estate overlooking a small lake.
The tasting room had been arranged with white linens, polished silverware, and tiny portions of nearly everything on the menu.
The event coordinator greeted them warmly. "Luke. Grace. So nice to see you again."
She led them toward a private dining room. "Brooklyn was just here."
Luke stopped walking. "I'm sorry?"
The coordinator smiled. "Only for a few minutes. She dropped off the allergy information for your guests."
Grace kept her expression pleasant. "That was thoughtful."
"It really was. We don't usually get bridal party members that involved."
Grace could feel Luke looking at her. She deliberately kept her attention on the coordinator. "We appreciate everyone wanting the day to go smoothly."
"Exactly what Brooklyn said." The coordinator beamed. "She seems lovely."
Grace smiled. "So everyone keeps telling me."
The tasting itself was wonderful.
The mushroom ravioli melted in her mouth. The lemon chicken was unexpectedly perfect. Luke declared the filet "life-changing" and managed to make the chef laugh twice. For almost an hour, Grace forgot Brooklyn existed.
Then the coordinator returned carrying a slim folder. "One last thing."
She placed it in front of Grace.
"We made the seating-chart adjustments Brooklyn suggested."
Grace blinked. "I'm sorry?"
"The sweetheart table."
She opened the folder. The original layout she and Luke had approved was gone. In its place was a long head table.
Luke at the center. Grace beside him.
Elaine and Luke's father next to them.
Brooklyn seated directly across from Grace.
Grace frowned. "I don't understand."
The coordinator looked confused.
"Brooklyn said you'd decided a sweetheart table might make the family feel excluded."
Luke spoke before Grace could. "We never said that."
"Oh." The coordinator immediately reached for the folder. "I'm so sorry."
"It's fine," Grace said gently. "We'll keep the sweetheart table."
"Absolutely." The coordinator left looking flustered.
Luke leaned back in his chair. "Okay."
Grace looked at him.
"That one..." He didn't finish. He didn't need to. For the first time since this had begun, he had witnessed it himself.
Just a small thing... another assumption.
Another conversation.
Another decision made without them.
"I'll call her," he said quietly.
Grace reached across the table and touched his wrist. "Wait."
He looked surprised. "Why?"
"Because she'll have an explanation."
"So?"
"So I want to hear it."
Brooklyn called before either of them had the chance. Luke's phone buzzed as they were walking through the parking lot. He looked at the screen. "It's her."
Grace nodded once. "Put it on speaker."
He hesitated. Then answered. "Hey, Brook."
"Hi!" Brooklyn sounded cheerful. "How was the tasting?"
"It was good."
"I'm so glad. Did they have the lemon chicken? I remembered your dad loved it at the Harrington wedding."
"They did."
A brief silence.
Then Luke asked casually, "Did you stop by Bellissimo today?"
"I did."
No hesitation.
No attempt to hide it.
"They're so nice there."
"What were you doing?"
"Oh." She laughed lightly.
"Your mom mentioned Aunt Susan's gluten allergy hadn't been added to the final list yet, and I was running errands nearby anyway."
Luke glanced at Grace.
She gave nothing away.
"So I dropped it off."
"What about the seating chart?"
"Oh." Another tiny laugh.
"I hope they didn't bother you with that."
"They mentioned it."
"I only asked whether you'd ever considered a family table instead of a sweetheart table."
"You asked them to change it."
"I didn't ask them to change it." Her voice remained warm.
"I said your family usually likes sitting together."
Luke was quiet.
Brooklyn continued before he could speak. "They must have misunderstood me."
Grace closed her eyes. Of course. A misunderstanding.
"I'm sorry if it created work for anyone," Brooklyn said sincerely. "I feel terrible."
Luke rubbed his forehead. "It's okay."
Grace looked at him sharply.
He caught himself.
"No," he corrected. "Actually... Brooklyn, I'd really like it if, going forward, you let Grace and me handle conversations with vendors."
A beat of silence.
Then Brooklyn spoke softly. "Oh."
"I know you're trying to help."
"I am."
"I know."
Another pause.
"I guess I got carried away." She sounded embarrassed.
No.
More than embarrassed.
She sounded hurt. "I've been helping Elaine with family events for years," she said quietly. "I suppose I slipped into old habits."
Luke's expression softened immediately.
Grace felt it happen before he even spoke.
"I know."
"I'm sorry, Luke."
"You don't have to apologize."
Grace looked away toward the lake. The wind stirred the water into tiny silver ripples.
Brooklyn sniffed softly.
"I never wanted Grace to think I was trying to take over."
Luke's eyes went immediately to Grace.
There it was.
Without accusing.
Without lying.
Brooklyn had gently shifted the conversation.
Now Luke wasn't reassuring his fiancée.
He was reassuring Brooklyn.
"I don't think that," he said automatically.
Grace closed her eyes.
Brooklyn, oblivious or pretending to be, let out a relieved little laugh. "Thank goodness."
Grace watched a pair of ducks glide across the water. She suddenly felt very tired.
Luke ended the call a minute later.
Neither of them spoke for several steps. Finally he stopped beside the truck. "I'm sorry."
Grace looked at him.
"For what?"
He leaned against the driver's door. "I just..." He frowned, searching for the thought. "...she's very good at making me feel like I need to make her feel better."
Grace stared at him. That was the first truly honest thing he'd said about Brooklyn.
That she inspired rescue.
Grace stepped closer and slipped her hand into his. "I know."
He looked at their joined hands. "I've been doing it my whole life."
Grace squeezed gently.
"And one day you'll have to stop." Luke looked up.
"Will I?"
She smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.
"You'll have to."
Because if he couldn't...
There would never be room for a wife.