A Wedding in Truhart (19 page)

“C
harlotte's here. She's here!”

After locking Nick in the barn, I was taking out my frustration on a pillow in room 204 when I heard Aunt Addie's voice calling out from the lobby. I flew down the stairs, and my heart lifted at the prospect of welcoming home my little sister. I wasn't the only one who was excited. Mom turned the corner from the kitchen, a dishrag still in her hands, and joined Aunt Addie in the doorway. Even Ian had picked up the pace from his usual lazy amble.

I passed the plaque on the wall that said
Where There Is Love There Is Life
, and quickly straightened it.
You would be so happy today, Dad.

A shiny rental sedan sat in the circular driveway in front of the inn and we all cheered as Charlotte uncurled herself from the front seat. Henry held the door open for her and waved to us. They looked like movie stars with their chic sunglasses, leather coats, and their golden Las Vegas tans.

Aunt Addie clapped her hands and ran to embrace Charlotte. Her backside bounced up and down as she jiggled with excitement.

Mom waited patiently for her turn and she finally enveloped Charlotte in her arms. “Welcome home, honey.”

Aunt Addie reached for Henry next and shook him up and down in an affectionate clinch. His lips looked like they were moving but his voice was inaudible.

Ian leaned against the opposite side of the large doorway from me, smiling at the expression on Henry's face.

“Should we rescue Henry?” I asked.

“No, he'll have to get used to it sometime,” Ian said with a nod.

I stepped away from the door to greet Charlotte just as two luxury SUVs pulled up behind the smaller rental. Through the glare of the low afternoon sun, I saw Scarlett Francis lean forward and look up at the inn. She said something to someone behind her and shook her head.

Kevin was behind the wheel of the third car and honked the horn as he pulled behind Travis. I could hear laughter and shouting from where I stood.

“Well, well. This is about as pretty as a picture, y'all,” exclaimed Travis as he opened the car door for Scarlett. She paused, wrapping her arms around herself at the blast of cold air.

Charlotte helped June Lowell out of the car. How June could travel on a plane and still manage to look that way was beyond me. She was as elegant as the last time I'd seen her. With her high-heel boots, tight black pants, and midlength white-and-black leather coat, I had to wonder if the woman actually owned a pair of jeans. She shivered and raised her eyebrows. “Charlotte, honey, I don't know how you could stand this cold growing up.”

Charlotte nodded. “Sometimes it's hard for me to believe it myself.”

“Now, you aren't a Southerner yet, young lady,” said Aunt Addie, clapping her hand on Charlotte's shoulder.

As Charlotte laughed and explained to June how cold things could really get, I was struck by her expression. She pointed to the inn, smiling as if she hadn't a concern in the world. But her smile was the same smile she used for the camera. Not the one I was used to.

The younger crowd—Bebe, Patty, Richard, and Kevin—greeted Mom and Aunt Addie. Brittany even seemed excited. With her hair slicked back in a ponytail, a red leather jacket, and dark denim jeans that fit her like skin, she reminded me of NASCAR Barbie. When Ian grabbed her suitcase she tried to hand him a dollar bill and he laughed in her face. She sucked in her breath and stood with her hand on her hip as Ian walked away with her luggage.

Most of the guests on the charter flight had gone ahead to the Grande Lucerne, while the immediate family and wedding party had driven to the inn. The ladies stood together, listening to Charlotte point out the landmarks, so I gave up on getting a word in edgewise and helped unload the suitcases from the trunk of Travis's SUV. I felt like the doorman.

“Oh no, wait a minute. Careful with that. Only me, please, only me,” said a man I hadn't noticed, peering at Ian over the SUV's third-row seat as he tried to grab a large metal suitcase.
“Faites attention, s'il vous plaît
.”

Ian stared with his mouth open as the red-faced man tried to wrestle the case from his grasp. Letting go, Ian looked to me for an explanation. The man with the strange accent clumsily grabbed the luggage as Ian and I stood uneasily, trying to figure out what to do.

Scarlett Francis stepped forward. “Only Alain handles his equipment. He doesn't want you to touch it.”

Ian backed away from the overweight bald man and mumbled, “I don't want to touch his equipment, believe me.”

Scarlett ignored Ian's comment and put her hand on the man's shoulder as he exited the car. “We will make sure they don't touch anything, Alain.
Ne t'inquiète pas
.”

He put a hand on his chest and leaned down to pull his cases forward. Now I realized who he was. I should have known by the accent and the freakishly pretentious attitude.

When Charlotte introduced him to us my suspicion was confirmed. “This is Alain, our wedding photographer.” Charlotte turned to me and smiled enthusiastically. “Scarlett pulled all sorts of strings to get him. In fact, Alain rarely even shoots weddings. He is sought after for his work in the fashion and portrait industries these days.” Charlotte put her hand on my arm and drawled, “He comes highly recommended.”

Her words hung in the air and I did a double take, thinking Charlotte might have been using the words as a joke. I heard a snort nearby and knew Ian was thinking the same thing. He stared at her as if he was trying to figure out if she was still related to us.

Alain opened a metal suitcase and checked each piece to make sure we hadn't damaged anything. I watched him inspect each bag. Even from a couple of feet away I could tell that his photography equipment was top of the line. I felt the tips of my fingertips tingle at the thought of getting my hands on what I saw in those cases.

Charlotte introduced us as he continued to scan his precious lenses.

“And this is my sister Annie,” she said as she finished up. “She studied photography once and she can help you with anything you need.”

I doubted he even heard her. With my hands full of luggage now, I nodded. But Aunt Addie walked up and gave Alain a hearty pat on the back.

“Nice to meet you, Alan,” she said.

“Alain, madame,” he said, looking up for the first time.

“That's what I said, Alan. Welcome to the Amble Inn.”

The man seemed to think better of correcting her and pursed his lips before closing his suitcase.

“Where's all the snow?” asked Jessica.

I had been wondering when someone was going to get around to that little detail.

“Well, honey, I know it looks kind of gray and cold right now. But the weather report says there is a front coming from the west. I'm sure there will be snow soon,” said Mom.

“It was supposed to be a winter wonderland. It's almost New Year's and there's nothing? I can't believe it. I can't imagine what everyone will think when they show up for a winter wonderland and have this . . . this . . . gray, brown cold,” said Charlotte with her bottom lip out. She looked just like she did when she was a little girl and didn't get the last Twinkie in the package.

Henry came up behind her and grabbed a suitcase from my hand. “Charlotte, I don't care if we have sleet, rain, snow, or sun. This wedding is going to be perfect,” he said. I sent him a grateful look and he winked at me.

Mom ushered the group up the front steps and into the main lobby. Those of us who were porters followed. I put down the brown leather luggage and stared at the words “Louis Vuitton” written on the label. The piece looked bizarre sitting on our cheap green commercial-grade carpet.

June, Scarlett, and Travis looked around them in curiosity and I could feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

“Well, this is as cute as a button,” Travis said. I tried not to flinch at the word
cute
. He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a golf course I see?” I slumped behind the luggage to avoid his gaze. I suppose I should give him back his hundred dollars. Richard laughed from the corner.

“What a lovely view,” said June politely. She walked to the windows behind the open stairway and looked out at the back nine.

“I like those, uh, slipcovers,” Brittany said before joining them at the window.

Aunt Addie watched her and then whispered in my ear, “That girl's jeans are tight enough to see Lincoln smiling on the penny in her pocket.”

I nodded and glanced around. For a moment it was just family standing together in the corner of the room. Mom, Charlotte, Ian, Aunt Addie, and me.

“It all looks like I've never been gone,” Charlotte said, eyeing the room.

“Well, not exactly. There were a few changes,” I said. “We spruced up the paint, and we have new curtains and a few other things.”

“Oh, I didn't notice, Annie. It just always seems like nothing ever changes here.” To Charlotte we must seem like figures in her old dollhouse. We were still in place right where she left us.

“Mom, you still have a towel over your shoulder.” Charlotte laughed.

Mom looked down absently, “Oh, well, I guess it's always part of my wardrobe.”

Charlotte walked over to her and took the towel. “You look like the maid,” she said, shaking her head and throwing it behind the front desk.

“Well, are you ready to tie the knot? It's hard to believe you will be an old married woman,” said Ian.

Henry overheard and walked toward us. “Don't give her any reason to change her mind. I can't believe she ever said yes. It took me months just to get a date with her and even then I needed help.”

“Just another thing you owe me for!” a voice called from the doorway.

Nick
.

Well, I suppose I should be glad about two things. He was out of the barn. And he wasn't carrying any lethal weapons. He stood in the doorway, outlined by the daylight behind him. As Ian and Henry rushed forward to greet him, I hung back, pretending to organize the luggage.

He greeted everyone in the room and never once glanced my way. Heat bloomed in my face as I realized that Nick was purposely ignoring me.

As I stood at the side of the lobby with my insides in a knot, Mom explained to everyone where they would be staying and how the rooms were arranged. June and Jessica, and then Scarlett and Travis, had the two largest guest rooms. Everyone else would be in rooms on the second floor. Tomorrow, when my cousins and aunts and uncles arrived, they would take the rest of the rooms on the first floor. That would make us full to the brim.

“Charlotte, wait until you see all the wedding gifts stacked in the dining room,” added Aunt Addie.

“Oh, let's see,” said Jessica excitedly, tugging on Henry's arm.

“Is it rude to open them now?” asked Charlotte.

Aunt Addie laughed. “It's rude if you keep me waiting.”

I lifted Alain's extra camera bag off the floor just in time to avoid Aunt Addie's foot as she ushered Henry and Jessica down the hallway. Charlotte trailed behind.

“I suppose it would be all right if you could
aidez-moi
, mademoiselle,” said Alain, pointing toward the largest piece of luggage in his pile.

I helped Alain gather his bags and tried to keep my pathetic gaze off of Nick. He and Ian had collapsed on the sofas by the fireplace.

“Gentle, gentle . . .” Alain said as I swung a camera bag around my shoulder. “
Doucement
. . . let me show you how to carry theez,” he wheezed.

“Say, what language is that, Alan?” Ian taunted from his horizontal position.

“
C'est français
,” said Alain.

Ian stared blankly at him and from the corner of my eye I could see Nick put a fist over his mouth. We both knew Ian had taken four years of accelerated French in high school and had spent a summer in Paris playing in cafés around Montmartre.

Alain looked down his nose at Ian and said, “French.” Only the word sounded suspiciously like it was said with an American twang.

“You're from France?” asked Ian.

“No, but the language is like my own native tongue. It just spills from me and I don't even know I have shifted from English.”

“Spills from you?” Ian looked at Alain's pants and then down at the floor.

“I have spent so many years there that it has become part of me,” Alain corrected in a haughty voice. Then he turned and said, “
Ici
, mademoiselle.”

I watched his back as he walked up the stairs, trying to remember from my own limited French what the word
ici
meant. Ian snickered as I trekked up the steps with the heavy bag. For some reason helping this pompous man as Nick watched from below made me feel lower than the day I'd had to caddy for Nick's senior prom date.

Ten minutes later I left Alain in his room, fretting in French over his equipment. I returned downstairs and helped Travis find the old ice machine and grabbed extra towels for June. I rounded the corner to the dining room, and stopped. Nick stood by the table stacked with presents, his head down as he said something to Ian. I hadn't had a chance to really look at him since he arrived home. Of course part of that was my own fault since I'd locked him in the barn. But now that he was busy, I could finally steal a moment to drink in the sight of him without being noticed.

Like the rest of the wedding party, his face was tanned from the Vegas sun. He wore an untucked light blue button-down and jeans. The stubble of a beard darkened the lower half of his face and I guessed he hadn't shaved since the day before. His hair was tousled, as if he had been caught in the wind or had run his hands through it repeatedly. If I had just met him I'd think he was relaxed and enjoying himself. But something in the clench of his jaw told me differently.