Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
L izzie swallowed the wave of panic that had lodged in the middle of her throat and tried to find the steely resolve she knew she possessed somewhere. The special moment she’d spent so much time crafting just crashed like a ten-car pileup on the freeway to the chant of “Della! Della! Della!”
She stood next to Renic and watched her guests move into the ballroom, feeling stunned. She’d never, ever had an event go so horribly wrong, so fast. It was like the plumbing disaster in the Rose Room, but so much worse. When the pipe burst, all she had to do was find the money to hire someone to fix it.
She didn’t think there was any amount of money that could spin this invasion by a horde of crazed Della fans as anything other than a complete train wreck. Someone’s special day had been turned into a nightmare of epic proportions that was about to include the police and maybe riot gear.
The bride and groom remained in a cocoon formed by their closest friends and family near the kitchen. The bride sat on one of the chairs, she assumed, since she couldn’t see much of her beyond a flash of white fabric every now and then. Her not-so-quiet sobs peppered the hostile glances and angry discussions taking place at that end of the hall.
Lizzie wanted to cry herself. She liked this cute couple. They’d been a delight to work with. Reasonable, understanding, easygoing. This wasn’t bridezilla making a mountain out of a molehill. This was a sweet girl who’d just had one of the best days of her life turned into a media- and fan-fueled circus.
It was heartbreaking. How could she ever make it up to the poor girl?
Lizzie’s phone pinged. She took a quick glance at the incoming text from Piper.
WTF? Della started a riot?
She raised an eyebrow at that. “How the hell has Piper heard about this so fast?”
“Social media,” Renic muttered.
She texted a quick response to Piper. Angry DJ blabbed her location. Not her fault.
Sure it ’ s not, Piper responded.
Lizzie could hear the bitterness behind that, even in a text message.
“There’s no putting this horse back in the barn, is there.” Lizzie stared at her phone. She should call someone. The Army, maybe. “It’s probably being livestreamed right now.”
Renic checked his own phone. “Yeah, it’s trending on Twitter. But so far nobody has an actual shot of her, so they can’t prove she’s here. They’ll get bored pretty fast. We just have to wait it out.”
The father of the bride separated from the wedding party and stalked in their direction. Lizzie cringed. “I don’t think that’s an option. ”
“What the hell are you trying to pull?” Mr. Simmons gestured wildly with one hand to indicate the all-encompassing chaos. “You turned my baby girl’s wedding into a damn riot.”
Lizzie pushed her feelings of guilt, anguish, and confusion to the back of her mind to deal with later, and pulled on the determined, calm, professional persona she used when others around her were in turmoil. It was a trick she’d learned a long time ago, and it always worked to defuse even the worst of situations.
“Mr. Simmons, I promise you these people have nothing to do with us or your daughter’s wedding. The police have already been called. They’ll be here any minute, and they’ll get rid of these trespassers. In the meantime, there’s no reason we can’t continue with the reception.”
Voices rumbled at the end of the hall.
“Continue?” the maid of honor squeaked. “How do we do that? These freaks will probably burn down the building with us in it.”
The groom’s mother stormed toward Lizzie like an angry hornet. “We’re not staying here another second. Get the car, Henry.”
“No!” the bride cried out in a voice that shook with anguish. “We can’t go. We haven’t even had the toast yet. And the video. Nobody’s seen the video.”
“We can’t get the cars,” the best man said. “I checked. The whole driveway’s blocked. It’ll take hours to get out of here.”
“This is a disaster,” Mr. Simmons muttered under his breath. “This is a damn unmitigated disaster. I’ll never hear the end of this. The boy’s father was dead set on a church wedding. We told him it was our call and he could either get with the program or go sit in the church by himself. He’ll be shoving this in my face at every family get-together from now until we’re both in our graves.”
Lizzie cringed. She could already see the review Mr. Simmons would post on social media. Don ’ t have your wedding at Belhurst Castle unless you enjoy riots .
She clasped her hands together and gave Mr. Simmons her most apologetic, pained expression. “I know the last few moments have been chaotic, to say the least. And I know it seems like the worst possible thing that could have happened, but I promise I can make this right.”
She took Mr. Simmons’s arm and gently guided him back to the group. The wedding party all turned to watch them approach with expressions that ranged from anger to confusion. “Shanna, can I talk to you for a second?”
The group parted to allow her access to the bride. The devastation on the girl’s face stabbed Lizzie in the heart. She silently cursed the fact that her own family drama had caused all this.
The surreal life of a pop star was bad enough when it was part of someone’s childhood. The cameras, the fans, the noise—it was manageable if it grew over time, but not when it landed all at once on everyday people in the middle of a quiet country wedding.
Lizzie released Mr. Simmons and knelt before the bride, careful to avoid the train. The brown smudges of dust and dirt against the crisp white of the dress said everything about the kind of day it had been.
She took the bride’s hands in her own. “Remember when I told you that something might happen during the wedding that would seem bad at the time?”
“I thought the worst would be if it rained.” Shanna hiccupped a sob.
Lizzie squeezed her hands. “I know. Me too. I didn’t see this coming. But my point remains the same. Remember what I said next?”
The girl looked at her through tears. “Whatever happened was meant to happen to make my day memorable and special.”
Lizzie smiled gently at her. “You’ll have quite the story to tell in the future. None of us, me included, will ever forget your wedding day. All this? It’s just made your day unique and more special than ever.”
Lizzie waited for that message to sink in not only with the bride but with everyone else.
The bride sniffed. “You really think so?”
“I do. Years from now people will tell this story, and they’ll remember you . How beautiful you looked. How perfect the night was. How it was all invaded by crazy fans and how y’all sailed right past all of it and had the best wedding ever.”
Shanna offered her a watery smile. “It’s pretty funny, if you think about it. Mobbed by paparazzi at my wedding like I’m a real rock star.”
The groom had been watching his bride with anxious eyes, but when she smiled, he relaxed. If she was okay, he would be too, Lizzie knew. That left the parents. The bride’s father didn’t look convinced, and her mother’s face was purple with anger.
“This…this… mob scene is not the memory she should have,” Mrs. Simmons said.
The father of the groom shook a finger at the father of the bride. “This is all your fault, Simmons. I told you to use the church. You wouldn’t listen.”
“It’s not his fault. It’s hers. ” Mrs. Simmons pointed at Lizzie. “Belhurst Castle promised us a beautiful, custom event tailored to the bride, not a sideshow freak fest. First the DJ runs out, now this. Just how many things are going to go wrong?”
Mr. Simmons put his arm around his wife. “Now to be fair, honey, she did replace the DJ with live music by that kid we all loved. If we don’t go on with the reception, we’ll miss out on that. That’d be a real shame, don’t you think?”
Lizzie realized with a start that she hadn’t told them that Jacob was stuck outside. She cast a desperate look in Renic’s direction.
He peeked out the front window and shook his head.
Lizzie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had to tell them. It was one more thing on the pile of things that had gone wrong, and she didn’t want to do it, but she had to. She opened her eyes and ripped off the Band-Aid. “I’m so sorry, but Jacob won’t be able to make it. He’s stuck in the middle of the crowd out there and can’t get to the door.”
Mrs. Simmons took a step toward her. “What do you mean he’s stuck? Are his legs broken?”
Renic called out from the door, “He might fight his way through but there’s no way he can carry all the equipment with him, and if we open the door I don’t think we’ll be able to keep them out. We should wait for the police to show up before we even try.”
Mrs. Simmons lowered her chin, and her face took on an expression Lizzie imagined was common on mama bears defending their cubs. “I want our money back, and I want this sorry excuse for a wedding over with. Right. Now.”
Lizzie swallowed back a wave of panic. She didn’t have the money they’d paid her for the event. That money had gone toward paychecks and supplies and plumbing.
“Mom,” Shanna said. Her cheeks were still wet with tears, but she seemed distracted by something. She pointed at something over Lizzie’s shoulder. “Mom, look. That’s…is that…oh my God.”
Lizzie whirled to face whatever had captured the bride’s attention with dread, expecting that some fan or paparazzo had managed to sneak through with the wedding guests. Instead, she saw her sister coming down the stairs.
A wave of mutters and exclamations swept through the small group, along with a couple of squeals of excitement. The wedding party pulled out phones and started taking pictures, or recording video, or maybe livestreaming. She wouldn’t be surprised if one of them had their own YouTube channel.
“Who?” Mrs. Simmons sounded confused.
“It’s Della Bellamy! She is here,” the groom said. Excitement made his voice rise up an octave as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Sweetie, Della Bellamy!”
Lizzie stared at her sister with disbelief of a different kind. What the hell was she thinking? Her sudden appearance would make the fans outside go even crazier than they already were, not to mention when the rest of the wedding guests figured out who was standing here in the entryway there was sure to be another mob scene inside the house.
Della walked across the hall toward them with the long strides she used on stage. Her shoulders were back, and she held her head high like she always did when performing, but her expression was serious and not at all like her usual sunny pop star persona. “This isn’t Lizzie’s fault.”
Mr. Simmons sputtered. “Excuse me? Who are you?”
Worry laced with irritation fluttered through Lizzie’s chest. “Della…”
Della extended her hand to the father of the bride. “Mr. Simmons, I’m the one they’re shouting for outside. I’m Della Bellamy, and this is all my fault. You see, recently I had a really bad day, and I just needed my family. So I ran home to see my big sister without telling anybody where I was going.”
“Is that supposed to make us feel better about my baby’s wedding getting ruined?” Mr. Simmons ignored her outstretched hand. “Because it sure as hell doesn’t.”
Shanna took a hesitant step forward. “Della Bellamy? Is this for real?”
Della extended her hand to Shanna instead. “I’m so sorry about all of this.”
Shanna shook Della’s hand with enthusiasm. “Wow. I had no idea Lizzie was that Bellamy. This is just…wow. You’re my favorite singer. I know all your songs. I’ve been to two Bellamy Sisters concerts, and three of your solos. I even went to the one in Mexico. I can’t believe this! I just can’t believe that Della Bellamy is at my wedding.”
Della glanced at Lizzie. There was a question in her sister’s eyes that she couldn’t quite read. Then she seemed to make up her mind about something and turned back to the bride.
“Shanna, your wedding was ruined because I tried to run away from my life,” Della said. Some of the sparkle danced back into her eyes. “I was selfish, and I didn’t think it all through, and I’m sorry. I can’t change what went wrong today, but I’d like to make it up to you. Would you mind if I sing for your reception? I’ll sing whatever you want, for as long as you want.”
The bride’s mouth fell open, and the entire wedding party stared at Della. The parents all exchanged uncertain glances.
“Are you serious?” Shanna breathed. “That would be so amazing.”
“A Della Bellamy private concert? Hell yeah!” Scott took his turn shaking Della’s hand. “This is the most amazing day ever. We will never, ever forget this.”
The young people clustered around Della and called out songs they wanted to hear. Della laughed and nodded, as excited and animated as they were. Just like that, the mood shifted from devastated to ecstatic.
Lizzie watched her little sister handle the crowd with baffled pride. Della wasn’t usually the problem solver of their family. She was the spotlight. The glitz and glamour. It wasn’t that her sister was selfish or self-centered, exactly. But Della was the baby of the family, and she’d spent her entire life being the center of attention. It was hard to see past all that.
Renic squeezed Lizzie’s shoulders. “Well, that should help them forget about this little mess. You said you have a microphone around here somewhere?”
By the time dinner was finished, the police had arrived and cleared away the crowd outside, and Jacob finally made it through the front door. He and Della set up a mini-stage near the lattice panel hiding the damaged wall. Jacob wore black jeans, a white shirt, and a black denim jacket. He looked like a pro sitting at the old upright piano. He and Della spoke in hushed tones about the songs they both knew until Jacob nodded with a sly grin.
“You pick it. I’ll play it. I can keep up with just about anything of yours.”
Della flashed him a brilliant smile. “Challenge accepted.”
She climbed up on the makeshift platform they’d created out of two long folding tables and flicked on the microphone. At some point during dinner, Della managed to transform from girl next door to pop star. The little black dress she wore sparkled in the candlelight. It was more sequins than fabric, and a little too big for her, but in it, she turned those two folding tables into a stage .
Della Bellamy was back.
She smiled at the audience. “First, I’d like to say congratulations to Shanna and Scott. I’m so excited for you, and so happy you let me sing for you today. It’s an honor to be a part of your lives, and a moment I’ll never forget. I hope you have many happy years together, and I hope you invite me back for the anniversary parties.”
The audience clapped and cheered and clinked their glasses.
“This first song is one my sisters and I came up with when we were just kids, pretending to be singers in our living room. Since your life together is just beginning, I thought it might be a good place to start.”
Della nodded at Jacob, and he started to play the intro to the first The Bellamy Sisters hit, “We’ll Go Places.”
She enchanted the audience from the first note.
Watching Della sing was always an experience, but tonight was more than just a concert. Della transported everyone in the room to a world of her own creation filled with music and magic.
It was a moment Lizzie knew none of those watching would ever forget.
Renic stepped up behind Lizzie and rubbed her shoulders. She hadn’t known he was there, but his touch stoked a happy, warm spot in her heart.
She smiled up at him. “She’s growing up.”
He watched Della with a satisfied look. “Yes, she is. I think she’s made her decision. She wouldn’t have come out of hiding if she didn’t intend to go back on tour.”
It was just an offhanded comment, but it hit like a sucker punch to the heart.
Lizzie studied the look on Della’s face. The way she engaged with the small audience. The way she owned the intimate space as if it were the biggest venue on earth. The joy.
Renic was right.
Her sister was leaving.
Della was going back to her life under the lights, and her absence would leave Lizzie and the inn a little emptier, a little quieter, and a lot more wistful for what used to be.
She’d known Della wouldn’t—shouldn’t—stay. Her little sister had a life to live. She just hadn’t put it together that it meant she’d lose Renic, too. He’d follow Della, of course. He had a business to run, and he couldn’t do that from the middle of nowhere.
Hope was an insidious thing. It had let her build an entire world filled with Jackson Renic, and she hadn’t even realized she’d done it. Somewhere over the last week, between kicking him out of the inn and their night at Lookout Point, she’d created a life with him. She’d filled her future with imagined nights under the stars and picnics by the lake and warm nights by the fire, and she hadn’t noticed that it was all just fantasy.
The fact was, his life was under stage lights just like Della, and hers was here with the vines and the inn, watching other people’s moments.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and tried not to let the tears fall. Her head told her it was stupid to mourn something that never existed, but her heart silently broke anyway.