Chapter 4 #2
“Excuse me! EXCUSE ME!! Rachel? Are you going to be my aunt? Because I already have an aunt, so now I’ll have two! Auntie Colleen says she’ll always be the best aunt, though.”
Colleen sprinted to the stage to cover the little girl’s mouth, but it was too late.
“It’s not a contest!” Kell called out, climbing on stage by taking the stairs two at a time, his arm around Rachel’s waist before she could take another breath.
“Of course it is!” Colleen shot back, but the smile she gave Rachel was priceless. Protective as hell, Colleen was slow to warm, but Rachel considered her a good friend now.
And apparently, an aunt rival.
“I’ll be the best auntie I can be, Harriet!” Rachel shouted.
“When am I getting a cousin?” Harriet asked before Colleen carried her offstage, depositing her in front of a speechless Luke.
And a smug-looking Deanna, who slyly handed her granddaughter what looked like a dollar bill.
“MOM!” Kell hollered. “ONE STEP AT A TIME!”
Harriet lifted her arms to be picked up by her dad. Now eight, the time when this was still possible was narrowing.
And wanting to be picked up would be fading soon as well.
Her lips close to Luke’s ear, she whispered something that made his face go blank, then his eyes cut to his mother.
“MOM!” Luke blasted. “Indoctrinating my daughter?”
“Someone has to do it.” Dean slipped his arm around Deanna’s shoulders as Rachel’s mom and dad laughed, everyone starting to break into smaller groups, Moore’s mother, Selma Mottin, holding a clipboard and talking to a woman in a red dress, holding a red guitar, a white rose in her hair.
The next contestant.
“Harriet wants you to sing,” Rachel told Kell, who made a face.
“I just did!”
“Singing along with Bruno Mars doesn’t count.”
“I think it’s enough. Don’t you? Unless you want me to make a fool of myself again? I already pushed the envelope.” His thumb brushed over the ring on her finger, sending delicious shivers through her.
“How about you sing it to me as a private concert? Just us? Naked?”
Kell stood straight up and blinked hard, then stole a kiss. “That is the best suggestion I’ve heard all day.”
“Better than having another grandbaby for Deanna?”
Shock made his eyes look like his costume’s head. “You want to start a family… now?”
“No! Of course not! But,” she said, her voice going tender, “we’re on that path, aren’t we?”
“Someday. Yes.”
Rachel looked at her ring, resting on her hand as if it had belonged there all along. “An engagement ring feels much better on my fingers than superglue.”
“Easier to take off, too.”
“Why would I ever want to take it off?”
“When I slide a wedding band on it.”
“Ah. I’ll make an exception for that.”
“Rachel?” He took her left hand and put it over his heart. “Can a man’s heart explode from happiness?”
She moved closer to him, her thigh pressing against his. “Other body parts might.”
Eyebrows shooting up, once again he looked a little too much like his costume, leading to a spate of giggles Rachel couldn’t control. Kell gave her a perplexed look and let her get the giggles out, so deeply amused that his dimples emerged.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said in her ear, the rush of heat from his breath making her glow. “I want to celebrate with you. Alone.”
“RACHEL!” Portia squealed, her hug a crusher that surprised Rachel. Her mom didn’t do real hugs. Fingertips on one shoulder and air kisses? Portia was the queen of that gesture.
A real bear hug, where the other person squeezed love into you? Rachel hadn’t felt that from her mother in years.
It felt so good.
“My baby girl is engaged! Let’s see your ring!” Pulling back, Portia fluffed her hair and reached for Rachel’s hand, all her movements coordinated and deliberate, as if she assumed people were watching her.
Which they were.
“Kell,” Portia gushed, holding Rachel’s hand as she looked at the ring but spoke to him, “your taste is exquisite.”
“I know. Rachel is a catch.”
“I meant the ring. What a stunning choice. Who designed it? It’s clearly custom made.”
“My friend Moore helped me. His family runs Love You Jewelers.”
“Oh, yes–I’ll have to go in and see about commissioning a piece for myself. Such high quality. My daughter is so lucky to have you.” Dropping Rachel’s hand, Portia looked up and froze at the vision of Kell, so close to her now. “Um, what exactly is that costume again?”
“A lemur.”
“And you’re… wearing that… for the engagement photos?”
“Engagement photos?” Rachel and Kell said in unison, both surprised.
“Well, of course!” Portia said to Rachel, giving her a look she knew all too well.
“The second Kell called to arrange to have us come for the momentous occasion, I knew you’d need some help making sure it was all documented perfectly.
I hired a wonderful photographer from New York–you know, Chloe Juusti, who did the Kardashian Vogue shoot last month?
She’s meeting us at the camp. I wanted her here for the actual proposal but there was a problem at some tiny airport and she’s only just arrived. ”
Kell looked down at himself. “I assumed people would snap some photos and videos while I made a fool of myself. We can find plenty on Instagram and TikTok. Half the town’s on there. In fact, Love You Handy Jobs has some amazing photos.”
“Love You what?” Portia said with an increasingly tight tone that made Rachel’s heart sink.
Here we go, she thought to herself. Time for Mom to turn it all into one big Hollywood moment.
“Love You Handy Jobs,” Kell repeated slowly.
“I’d hate to see the Y fall off that sign,” Stan joked, coming in for much-needed relief. Over the years, Rachel had noticed that her dad had an uncanny sixth sense when it came to Portia and Rachel. Intervening rarely, he nevertheless found astute ways to diffuse tension.
Like now.
“It gets stolen on a regular basis,” Kell explained, though his eyes were on her, clearly tracking the emotional landscape between her and Portia. “Like a town ritual. The teens think it’s hilarious.”
“Then I’m immature as hell, because I think it’s hilarious, too,” Stan replied, giving Portia a squeeze. “Honey, think of all of this as great material.”
“Hmmm?” Portia asked, eyes flitting nervously, narrowing at the same time. In a constant battle between curating her public persona and getting what she wanted, Portia managed to juggle so many emotions under her skin, rarely letting the real one leak out.
Ever since she was a little girl, Rachel had admired her mother’s ability to project whatever feeling she wanted others to feel toward her.
Except when Rachel was her target audience.
“Material. You know. Quirky small-town mountain man wears lemur costume in a nostalgic throwback to their youth together. Inside joke as part of a sweeping, romantic proposal. That sort of thing, complete with a flashmob and the surprise flying in of the parents and brother. Kell’s pulled off a masterpiece.
The weird lemur costume just adds to the photography session.
It doesn’t detract. Think of how viral this will go, and how often your name will pop up in searches. ”
Daddy: the Portia Whisperer.
Rachel’s mom perked up. “I hadn’t thought of it that way,” she said in a breathy tone. “Like in Schitt’s Creek! So many quirky small-town personalities. The storyline for Catherine O’Hara’s character was brilliant.” Portia sniffed. “I’m much too young to play her role, though.”
“Her kids are our age in the show,” Kell pointed out, earning pressed lips from her dad and a barely concealed gurgle from Rachel.
Portia leveled Kell with an even, icy look.
“And your point is…?”
Oh, dear. Her future husband had so much to learn. Over the last two years, Rachel had grown accustomed to her future mother-in-law, her future father-in-law, and the entire Luview clan.
At least, the ones she lived with at the camp the family had bought together.
There were plenty of cousins around, too, Luviews and Bilbees and more–it often seemed to Rachel that Kell was somehow related to everyone in town.
For two years, she’d been immersed in getting to know every nook and cranny of Kell’s life, but he only knew her parents and brother from brief and infrequent trips to Los Angeles, where they didn’t even stay with her parents because of constant home renovations that made it “too tiring” for Portia to have houseguests.
When they visited, Kell and Rachel rented an Airbnb and went over for dinner. Stan made sure to be home, but Tim had only been there once before. Today was only the second time Kell had ever met him, and as Rachel reflected on how… weird that was, she was struck hard by her new reality:
She lived in a place where just being present made her a member of something larger than herself.
In Love You, Maine, she didn’t have to prove herself worthy of attention.
Townsfolk said hi as she walked by, pulling her aside to talk about a new policy, maybe gently guiding her to a corner to complain about a planning issue.
Or someone might angrily call out her name across the lemon display at Kendrill’s Market to express outrage over a parking lot, a broken sign, a crooked fence.
This community she had chosen reminded her of a loom, where the fibers of everyone’s life were being woven into a beautiful, enduring, completely unique fabric. Each thread made the fabric stronger. Leaving any out would diminish it.
In Los Angeles, her life had been a series of transactions. Of goals. Of priorities.
Here, life was an endless, ever-changing tapestry of relationships.
Her mom and dad would never understand that, although Tim probably saw something similar in the military.
As she watched Kell say something that made Portia thaw a little, then took in the careful glance Tim gave her dad, a look that said the all-clear was called and Portia would back off, she felt her old self slipping away.
Letting go.
Standing down.
“Mom,” she said with a smile. “Let’s get you back to the camp. Which cabin are you in?”
“I–I don’t know, but it’s covered with Tinkerbell pictures,” Portia said with alarm. “We were at that Inn last night, and I’m not sure which is wors – er, more rustic.”
“Not Tinkerbell,” Kell explained, failing to hide his frown. Portia hadn’t covered her mistake. “Fairies.”
“Same thing. The entire cabin is pink, white, and glitter.”
“That’s one that Kylie decorated all by herself.”
“I can tell,” Portia sniffed, looking at Rachel with wide eyes that said she was holding back. “No competition there in terms of decorating, Rachel.”
“I know,” Rachel replied smoothly, not letting her mom get under her skin. “Kylie’s got me beat in that area.”
Something in her father’s glance made her stand a bit taller, as if Stan were realizing he’d underestimated her and recalibrating his opinion of his little girl. Living on opposite coasts had led to a change in their relationship, mostly for the better.
“Hey,” Kell called, waving to his mom across the crowd. Deanna was pointing to Dean, who had Harriet on his shoulders, the three of them headed toward the parking area where they often parked their work truck for the tree service. Deanna thumbed her way, a sign that meant, Come back home.
Her dad picked up on it and took Portia’s elbow. “Let’s go back to the camp so you can freshen up.”
“Stan,” she said bluntly. “The light in that fairy cottage is terrible.”
“Who needs good lighting with bones like yours?” He kissed her jaw and she laughed, ten years lifting off her face.
If only her mother understood that being herself was all her family wanted. Caring about what others thought had made her vain. The word insecure floated through Rachel’s mind, overlaying the word vain. Maybe Portia wasn’t self-centered.
Maybe she was just anxious.
Her parents had managed something more rare than a black swan: a Hollywood marriage that had lasted more than three decades. Portia often joked that Stan needed to trade her in for two twenties but he always replied with, “I already have my trophy wife, and she’s made of pure gold.”
Love came in so many forms. The longer Rachel was steeped in it with Kell, the more she recognized it in other couples. Her parents and Kell’s parents were role models now. All those years she’d thought of Stan and Portia as shallow in their commitment turned out to be dead wrong.
Daddy loved Mom so much, he bucked convention and stayed.
But if you asked him why, he’d tell you he didn’t have a choice.
Because that’s how love worked. The minute you just knew, you were a goner.
Seeing her mother as a human being with flaws and her own set of issues to grapple with made Rachel pause. On the cusp of her own big life change, the ring on her finger feeling heavy and beautiful, she took a moment to center herself.
“Rachel?” Kell’s arm moved to her shoulders as he leaned in and whispered. “You ready to head back home?”
Eyes tracking her parents as they walked over to Dean’s truck and climbed in, she smiled.
“I am. Home.”