Chapter 11 MJ
MJ loved the quiet magic of the Ever After Bridal Salon in Park City, where she joined her sister, daughter, niece, and a few friends for Nicole’s final wedding dress fitting.
The gently lit rooms smelled faintly of pressed satin and perfume, where hopes and dreams lived on satin hangers.
She tried her best to embrace the glow, even though her body felt about ten minutes behind her brain and her heart felt… well, a little off-beat.
The salon was a fairy tale of blush pink with gold accents, plush carpets and low-slung velvet sofas set around a small raised platform. Snow drifted lazily outside the tall windows, making everything feel hushed and intimate.
Taking a deep breath, MJ tried to center herself and focus on the moment of her niece’s final fitting. The room was filled with the people she loved most—Cindy, of course, excited in her role as mother of the bride after having been the bride just a few weeks earlier.
Nicole was still in the dressing room with the stylist, building anticipation for a group that included Elise and Brianna, Nicole’s closest friend. Next to MJ, Gracie sipped a mimosa and seemed quieter than usual.
“You okay?” MJ whispered, leaning closer to her daughter.
“Oh, yes. You’re the one who seems a little…I don’t know. Different. Distant.”
“Do I?” Dang. She thought she’d been doing such a good job of hiding it. “I’m just not sleeping well.”
Gracie eyed her. “Too many late nights with Matt?”
MJ smiled. “Not that late, really. After dinner, we sometimes take a night walk, but…he’s not keeping me up.”
But something woke her at three in the morning.
Before she could consider whether or not to elaborate, the curtain to the dressing suite swished, and the bridal stylist poked her head out.
“She’s ready, ladies.”
Cindy inhaled sharply. “Am I going to cry again?”
“Yes,” they all answered in perfect unison, punctuating the single word with an outburst of laughter.
MJ shook off her thoughts and forced herself to concentrate on the memory they were making. Rising, she went behind the sofa and put her hands on Cindy’s shoulders.
“You earned the momma tears, Cin. Enjoy every minute of it.”
Cindy dropped her head back and looked up at MJ with an upside-down grin. “I will. I promise.”
After a minute of chatter and laughter, Nicole stepped out slowly, a vision in white as she floated to the platform to a chorus of gasps, oohs, and ahhs.
They’d all loved this gown when she picked it, but now, without the clips and all the buttons up, the effect was truly breathtaking.
The A-line dress fit her like a dream, from the strapless, straight bodice down to the scalloped hem that kissed the floor. It flowed like poured cream, without a snippet of lace or a single pearl, which added to the mix of drama and elegance of a timeless, stunning wedding gown.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Cindy breathed, slowly rising to get closer. “You…are…beautiful.”
Nicole blinked back her own tears. “Thanks, Mom. It’s perfect.”
They hugged and the stylist came closer, holding a cathedral veil trimmed with the tiniest gems, inviting Cindy to place it on Nicole’s head for the full effect.
As she did, every woman in the room sniffled, wiped tears, and held hands, drinking in the sweet moment.
Stepping back to look at her daughter, Cindy pressed one hand to her heart, her whole face shining with a mother’s full, unfiltered joy.
They cooed and fussed some more, taking pictures, giving toasts, laughing as they learned how to bustle the train. It was all so lovely that it took MJ’s mind off her problems, making her laugh and enjoy the event.
The stylist helped Nicole down, and the women all gathered around her, admiring the dress from every angle, all voting on a perfect white faux fur wrap to cover her during the obligatory sleigh ride.
When it was over and everyone had gathered their own formal dresses, the group lingered near the front counter, chattering about the wedding weekend, travel times, and whether Copper should wear something “festive” during sleigh photos.
Nicole hugged every single person twice and couldn’t stop smiling.
As they said goodbye, Gracie slipped an arm around MJ and pulled her closer. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?”
MJ laughed softly, knowing that she had never been very good at hiding her feelings, especially from her dear daughter. “I’m fine,” she insisted.
“It’s not Red, is it? Are you feeling okay? Is it the fact that Nicole is getting married and I’m not?”
MJ gasped at the question. “Gracie! No.” But she’d have to give a real answer or her daughter would keep pressing. “Look, it’s nothing that needs to pull focus from today.”
“So there is something.” Gracie’s brows pinched. “Mom…”
MJ swallowed. “I’ll tell you later.”
Gracie launched a brow. “Later is…now. Come to Sugarfall with me.”
“I have to get back to the lodge,” MJ said. “We have so much to do to get ready for the real opening, the wedding, and—”
“Then I’ll drive you.” Gracie gripped her arm. “Mom, I know when something’s going on with you. Please.”
MJ looked through the windows at the slow-falling snow, thinking. Yes. She needed to tell someone, and who better than the daughter she trusted completely?
“Of course,” MJ whispered, relief flooding her. “Thank you, honey.”
Gracie nearly drove off the road when MJ dropped the bomb that her new third-floor apartment was haunted…by George McBride.
“What?” She steadied the bakery van and merged into traffic with a quick glance at MJ. “You’re not serious.”
“I’m not…not serious. You remember the music box your father gave me when you were born?”
“The white enamel one that plays What a Wonderful World? Of course. It’s in my bedroom.”
“Excuse me?” MJ slammed her palm against her breastbone, shocked. “You have it? I’ve been looking everywhere. I thought I had it.”
“Well, it’s on my nightstand next to a picture of Dad.” She frowned. “You left it when you moved into the lodge after Dad died.”
“I don’t remember that,” MJ admitted. “But then I don’t remember much from those days.”
“I figured the music box made you sad,” Gracie said. “So I kept it for you.”
“You have it.” MJ squeezed her eyes at what this meant. “So he’s not using it to communicate with me.”
Gracie’s eyes grew wide. “Oookay…” She dragged out the word. “You better be more specific. He’s communicating?”
“I don’t know.”
“Mom! Are you serious?”
She let out a sigh, knowing how it sounded, but now there really was no explanation. “Every night at three in the morning—exactly, mind you, not one minute before or after—I hear the song. Digital, like the music box. I thought maybe I’d stuffed it in a drawer or something, but now…you have it.”
“Plus, it’s not digital,” Gracie said. “It’s a wind-up music box that wouldn’t play by itself.”
“Especially if it’s on your nightstand,” MJ added.
“You must be dreaming, Mom.”
“I don’t think so,” MJ said. “I hear it, loud and clear. Well, not loud and not clear. Almost as if it’s underwater.”
“Have you looked under sofa cushions and taken everything apart? Checked all the cabinets?”
“Yes, yes. But I was looking for the music box because nothing else would make that noise or play that song.” She sighed. “Your father knows what that song means to me.”
Gracie considered that, turning off the main highway toward the lodge. “What do you think he’s trying to say, Mom?”
“Well, not that you believe me—”
“I believe you,” she said quickly. “But I do think it could be your imagination or even your conscience, thinking Dad would be upset if you fell in love with another man.”
“He would be,” MJ said.
“I don’t think so,” Gracie replied.
MJ bit her lip and looked out the window.
“I really don’t,” Gracie reiterated. “Dad only ever wanted you to be happy. And it’s been six years. You’re in your early sixties, vibrant and full of energy and optimism. You should have a wonderful partner in your life.”
Each word pressed on her heart. “I had a wonderful partner,” she said. “But he was taken too soon.”
Gracie’s eyes shuttered. “That he was.”
“And we never expected him to die, so we never talked about…what-ifs.”
“Well, what if the situation were reversed?” Gracie asked. “What if you’d left us far too soon? Would you want him to be alone?”
MJ shook her head, having already given this question a lot of thought. “He had a lot of love to give and if the right woman came along—assuming she didn’t outcook or outbake me—then, sure, of course I’d want him to spend his golden years with…someone.”
The words caught in her throat.
“It’s not easy to think about,” Gracie agreed, reaching over to add a gentle touch. “But your answer is the same as his would have been. He wants you to be happy and Matt’s a great guy.”
MJ sighed again, this time with a soft groan. “I know.”
“Then why the pain in your voice, Mom?”
“Because Matt’s so great, he’s…” She shifted in her seat, an emotion eating at her with the same voraciousness that attacked her at three in the morning. “I feel guilty,” she whispered, finally getting to what really bothered her. “I feel so incredibly guilty.”
“For possibly loving someone else?” Gracie asked. “Why?”
“Because I could love him…a lot. Not that I do yet—well, maybe I do. But I could love Matt in a way that…” She swallowed. “He could be…”
She tamped down the rest because did Gracie need to hear that the new man in her mother’s life might actually be…better…than the first one? The one who’d given Gracie life? It was unthinkable.
And yet, MJ thought it…a lot.
“He could be what?” Gracie pressed.
“Very special,” MJ managed to say.
Gracie was quiet as they neared the lodge, staring at the red light at the intersection, pensive.
“See?” MJ finally scoffed when Gracie didn’t say a word even after the light changed and she turned left.
“See what?”
“It’s a problem for you, too.”
“It’s not a problem, Mom. I think it’s amazing that you’ve met someone so spectacular.”