A Wedding in Truhart (22 page)

Charlotte shook her head and frowned. “I can't.” She moved closer to the table and hovered, wringing her hands. Several times she tried to change the subject and failed miserably.

Alain stopped me as I poured him more coffee. He had just started his third pastry. “I will need some extra help today and tomorrow. Your sister says you will be a good assistant.”

“Of course. Just let me know when you need me.” I tried to be polite.

“
Merci
, mademoiselle.”

I turned around and bumped into a broad chest. The room fell away from me.

“Good morning,” Nick said. His cheeks were red and I could still see snowflakes on his eyebrows. I felt heat rush to my face and wondered if he could feel it where he stood. The gleam in his eyes made me want to run my hands along his naked skin all over again.

“Good morning,” I said. For a moment we just stood there grinning. Travis Hartwick walked up and slapped Nick on the back.

“Pretty as a picture out there, isn't it? But colder than a witch's tit, I'll bet. Heh, heh. Gotta say, I am glad we don't have to deal with this kind of weather in Atlanta.”

Aunt Addie rose from her seat at June and Scarlett's table, where she had been listening to the gossip. “It might be a little cold here, but I'd rather have snow than deal with your hot summers. Honestly, Atlanta was hotter than a goat's butt in a pepper patch when we were there,” she yelled across the room.

Alain choked on his pastry. Moving faster than I thought possible, Aunt Addie rushed up to him and whacked her hand on his back. “You okay, Alan?”

You could put Aunt Addie in the palace with the queen and she would act the same way she did in the grocery store.

The sounds of a piano chord filled the room and I stifled a moan. The crew finished running sound and light checks, and as if on cue, Ian tried to make the most of it. When he opened his mouth to sing Charlotte flew across the room and grabbed his wrists.

“Not now, brother dear,” she said through gritted teeth.

“But I'm just warming up,” said Ian.

Henry and Mom pulled them off each other and the morning went downhill from there.

I barely had a moment to speak with Nick as I found myself running races around the inn. I cleaned up breakfast, double-checked the details for tomorrow's wedding meal, helped our two temporary housekeepers find extra linens and supplies, and trailed after Alain as he scouted out backgrounds for wedding pictures. At one point he and I trudged through the snow and wind, trying to get the right angle on the back of the inn, which he wanted to use as the background for some kind of artistic pose he had planned. I didn't know how he thought he was going to get the ladies to stand in the snow in three-inch heels, but every time I made a suggestion, he shook his head as if I had no idea what I was doing. After a while I kept my mouth shut. My feet were getting numb and my arm ached from holding his clear umbrella over his head to keep the camera dry. I rolled my eyes later when he said “
Voilà!
” to my original camera angles as if he had figured it all out on his own.

When we returned to the inn and shook the snow off our coats, we found Nick and Travis Hartwick sitting in the lobby surrounded by paperwork. Brittany sat beside Nick on the couch. She was so close that I wanted to pry her off with a crowbar. She looked glossy and fresh in a white ribbed turtleneck, black jeans and boots. Her perfectly plucked eyebrows rose as she looked me up and down.

I was pretty sure my earlier glow had worn off hours ago. I pulled off my old knit ski hat and my static-filled hair clung to my face. My armpits were moist from trudging through the snow and my nose was wet.

Nick frowned at me. I must have looked like his mother's dog, Lucifer, after a romp in the pond. I shook out the umbrella and Alain handed me his coat before collapsing on the couch.

“
Je suis fatigué!
Can you dry off my camera bag and make sure to put my equipment someplace safe, mademoiselle? I don't want anyone playing with it while I rest,” he said.

“Annie—” Nick said. I looked over, but before he could finish, Travis interrupted him with a comment about the building codes in some business district. Whatever they were discussing, it sounded important. Nick was pulled back into the discussion. I hung up the coats and decided to take the camera equipment into the back office where it would be away from Aunt Addie and Marva's clumsy feet.

The office was dim when I entered and I didn't see the pile of boxes near the desk. I tripped over them, almost dropping my precious cargo. Setting the equipment down, I let my hands linger over the camera case. With reverence and only a little guilt, I opened the clasp and lifted the lid. For a minute I just ogled. I used to dream of lenses and filters like these. I lifted the camera from where it was nestled in gray foam and slowly brought it to my chest, measuring the delicate balance in my hand. The Nikon was first-rate and one of the most expensive on the market. I removed the cover and lifted it to my eye. Pleasure passed through my pores at the power I felt, holding that beautiful piece of equipment in my hands. But something akin to torment got the best of me. I set the cover back on and tucked the camera away. I would never own anything like that in a million years.

When I turned to leave I stopped to pick up the overturned box I had tripped over. Still thinking about the way the camera felt in my hands, I almost missed the words written on the pages in front of me. “Terms of Sale.”

I looked more closely. There must be some mistake. I flipped on a light switch and looked again. All of a sudden my legs gave out and I sat down on the floor to reread the page. It took a while for the words to sink in. I couldn't believe it. Feeling light-headed and short of breath, I rifled through the rest of the documents.

Inside the box were bills and notices warning of a possible foreclosure on the inn. Paper-clipped documents on top outlined the terms of sale to a commercial real estate agent whose name I recognized. The agent was known around the county for reselling property to bargain-basement land developers. That explained the surprisingly low price. It was a steal by any measure.

I knew I shouldn't be surprised. This was what my mother warned me could happen. But somehow I hadn't expected it to be so soon. Our home—our livelihood—was being sold right out from under us. And what was worse, the foreclosure notices pointed to the fact that Mom had little choice in the matter.

No wonder Mom looked ten years older this morning. The dates on the documents indicated they had all been drawn up in the past week. She had been keeping this a secret in order to spare us the worry during the wedding celebration.

As Ian and I had been buying bedsheets, centerpieces, and designer shampoo, thinking we were helping, Mom had been dealing with a landslide of bills.

How could I have been so naïve?

I looked around me and felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness. For Mom, Aunt Addie, and our family—this was everything. The inn had been owned by Adlers for four generations. It was our home, our livelihood. And for me, well, I couldn't imagine life without it.

As a child I took my first steps behind the front desk, played tag down the hallways in the winter, and chased geese along the links of the golf course. I knew the inn like the back of my hand. I had committed to memory the trademark cookie and pastry recipes we prided ourselves on baking fresh every weekend morning. Like Aunt Adelaide, I could make a bed in thirty seconds flat, and sanitize a bathroom in less than ten minutes. Most people would have thought that was a pitiful thing to be proud of, but Aunt Addie actually timed me one summer.

I wanted to grab the documents and throw them outside in the snow. I couldn't let this happen. This would have killed my father.

A
s I tackled the endless list of tasks for the wedding it seemed like I was dragging a hundred extra pounds around my neck. I felt like I was looking at everything through the wrong end of a telescope and I found myself unable to focus.

Suddenly the wedding details seemed unimportant. Trivial.

But conversations about the snow and the wedding dominated the day. In light of the snow, it was decided that the flowers and cake should be brought to the inn earlier rather than later. Fortunately the cake was ready to be transported to the inn. It took a while, but with the help of two men from the bakery, we were able to set the cake up in the corner of the dining room. It was simple and elegant. Charlotte worried it was too small, but Mom assured her there was plenty to feed an army.

When the van with the flowers arrived, Ian, Nick, Kevin, and Richard helped unload. Mom stood at the door, opening and closing it on the gusting snow.

“Oh, they look beautiful, don't they?” she said, clapping her hands. I could only nod, afraid my voice wouldn't make it past the permanent lump in my throat. I couldn't look her in the eye. She knew me so well she would guess what I knew.

“What do you think?” she asked Charlotte, who stood beside us.

“Are we going to put anything else around them, like candles, or are they just going to go on the table with nothing?” Her words woke me from my haze. I looked at Charlotte and wondered if she knew how she sounded.

Mom didn't even notice. “We'll have tea lights around them.”

“Oh, that will be nice,” Charlotte said. But she sounded disappointed.

I turned away, hating the direction my thoughts were taking. I began to understand why Mom didn't want to tell us anything until after the wedding. We would never be able to muddle through all these insignificant details if we knew. What was a centerpiece compared to the loss of the inn?

The flowers were carried to the storage room in the basement, where they would stay cool. I volunteered to count them, taking advantage of any opportunity to be alone. When I finally finished I wandered to my tiny darkroom under the stairs so that I could be alone. I crossed my arms and hugged myself, taking several deep breaths. We needed to get through tomorrow and then we could worry about the future. This weekend was about Charlotte. I said that over and over in my head. But it was a mantra that grew weaker and weaker the more I repeated it.

I had just turned to go upstairs when I felt a hand on my waist, yanking me toward the dark landing. I barely had time to protest when my mouth was covered by a very warm set of lips. Despite my earlier worries, my body reacted instantly and I threw my arms around Nick's shoulders and clung to him. I responded to Nick's kisses with such intensity that I think I surprised him. After a few minutes, a rising panic inside me threatened to surface and I found myself gulping for air. I ripped my mouth away from Nick's and buried my head in his neck.

I refused to cry. If I repeated that to myself maybe it wouldn't happen.

Nick held me close and ran his hands along my back. “Annie? Are you okay?”

I gripped his shoulders until I realized I was going to leave a mark, and broke away. I paced back and forth along the back wall of the alcove, trying to compose myself.

Nick watched me and I could feel the intensity of his stormy gaze. “You're working too hard, Annie. Let the rest of us do more.”

I laughed bitterly. “If only it were just that.” I turned my head away. “This wedding is suddenly the least of my problems.”

He put his hand to my chin and turned me toward him, studying my face. “You've been running yourself ragged for this wedding.”

I debated whether I should keep my discovery from him, but this was Nick. The man I loved. And besides that, I felt an overpowering need to confide in someone.

“My mom is selling the inn,” I blurted out in a shaky voice.

It wasn't what he thought I would say. He blinked. “What?”

“I discovered a pile of foreclosure notices in her office. We are up to our ears in debt. I found a signed document outlining the terms of sale to a land developer.” I remembered how she and I had joked about the inn being turned into a landfill or a parking lot and felt my stomach churn.

It really was happening. Reality hit me. What would Mom do? Where would she live? And Aunt Addie? She had spent most of her life here.

“Annie, are you sure? Your mom never said anything about it to you before?”

“We joked about it. I knew the bills were coming in and we were having trouble. But somehow I never thought it would really happen. If only I hadn't lost my teaching position, I could have helped her out. I could have at least paid some bills off. I can't believe she never even told me, Nick.”

Nick pulled me toward him, where I could rest my head on his shoulder. “You've done so much to help your mom. Don't feel guilty about losing your job. Your mom wouldn't want you to use your paychecks to keep this place going.”

“But—”

Nick stopped my words with a tender kiss on the top of my head. His hands cupped my face and forced me to look at him. “We'll think of something. After the wedding we'll talk to your mom about it. Okay?”

He kissed me again and put his arms around me. I didn't think there was anything he could do, but somehow I didn't feel so alone anymore. It was enough for the moment.

W
hen Nick and I returned to the lobby, we found everyone standing in front of the television in the corner. Mary Conrad had arrived and she sent Nick and me a curious gaze before turning back to the TV. We watched as the weatherman from the local television station pointed on the radar behind him to a solid pattern of dark blue covering the northern part of the state.

“ ‘Almost thirty inches of snow has fallen in some parts of Northern Michigan and there is no end in sight,' ” he said.

Charlotte put her hand to her forehead. “This can't be happening.”

“It's okay, Charlotte,” Brittany said. “This guy might be wrong. Look, his tie doesn't even match his suit. What does he know? The weatherman on the GATE Network is sure this is no big deal.”

Behind her, Ian smirked. “Hey, you know you're right. A guy with a fifty-thousand-dollar wardrobe
has
to know more about weather than the local dude who buys his clothes from Kmart. I'll remember that the next time I need a proctologist. Go for the guy with the Gucci tie.”

Brittany didn't know what to make of Ian. She blinked several times, opening and closing her mouth before turning back to the TV.

“Hey,” said Ian, leaning closer to her ear. “Who wants to play snow golf?”

“What's that?” asked Kevin with interest.

Ian described a game we played with golf clubs and an orange plastic ball in the snow. Kevin, Richard, and Jessica thought the game sounded like fun. They convinced Henry, Bebe, Patty, and even Brittany to join them. Ian narrowed his eyes at Brittany as she put on her designer ski jacket and boots. He looked like a wolf getting ready to gobble up Little Red Riding Hood. I supposed I should have warned her about Ian, but then again, maybe not.

Several minutes later, I closed the back door on Bebe and Patty, who had just finished bundling up. I shivered from the gust of wind that invaded the inn and watched as they leaped through the snow to join the gathering crowd on the back nine. They were covered in white in no time and started throwing snowballs before the golf game began. I was pretty sure I saw Ian teach Brittany how to make a snowball. He threw back his head and laughed when she sprayed him with a poorly packed first attempt. I was glad they were having fun. Someone had to lighten the mood.

Nick stood next to me, watching the scene outside. “Are you going too?” I asked. He might at least keep Ian from being overly vicious.

“No, I'll hang out here,” he said. “Grady is setting up some tables, and I thought I would help.”

In the lobby, Charlotte sat on the couch next to June and Scarlett and called the airline. Her voice rose as she demanded to know when her dress would arrive. The longer she talked the redder her face grew. Eventually, June and Scarlett grabbed the phone to yell at the poor clerk. The snow had put a major snarl in travel up and down the Mid-Atlantic and the odds of the dress arriving before tomorrow looked bleak.

Meanwhile, Mary, Aunt Addie, Marva, and Corinne huddled together discussing a plan. They pulled me into the conversation hoping I would support them. But I already knew what Charlotte's reaction would be.

“You want me to wear what!?” she said when she heard their proposal.

“We can fix it up—it won't be that bad.”

“Mary, there is no way Aunt Addie's dress will even fit me.”

I stared at the floor, wishing I was outside with everyone else. The idea of redesigning Aunt Addie's dress was crazy, but then again, what else could they do? My mom had borrowed her wedding dress from her cousin all those years ago, so using hers was out of the question.

“Well, Mary is a wonderful seamstress, and with the help of a few people we could make the dress look like new,” explained Corinne.

“I would be happy to do whatever I can. I have loads of prom dresses that I've made, hanging in the girls' bedrooms,” Mary said. “They seemed to like them and you know how picky Jenny used to be about her clothes. I am sure we can figure out a way to make the dress look more updated.”

She was trying to be diplomatic, but I could read doubt in her eyes. Aunt Addie fished her wedding album from the annex. She proudly showed the dress to anyone who would look. It was made of lace and satin in a style that covered her from head to toe. She had been large even then, when she married my uncle at the age of forty-two. I couldn't imagine how it would work.

June and Scarlett were weighing in on the dress situation as well. Their ridiculous idea involved flying another dress into Truhart on a special plane. I wondered if they had already dipped into the liquor cabinet. All the money in the world couldn't fly a wedding dress into the middle of a snowstorm.

“Once I cut the material I can make it look very pretty,” Mary explained, grabbing the album out of Aunt Addie's hands. “Actually a wedding dress is one of the simpler styles to sew. I can make it look like one of those beautiful dresses in your magazine. I'll cut off the arms and the neckline, and then I'll reshape the bodice and pinch in the waist. You won't even recognize it.”

Aunt Addie looked at Mary like she had grown two heads. “You will do
what
with my dress?” She put her hand on her hip and glared.

Mary waved her hand in the air, dismissing Aunt Addie's concern. “Oh, come on, Adelaide. It's not like you are going to wear it again. You have to agree it is a little . . . well, dated.”

“What do you mean, dated? That dress is absolutely beautiful. I thought you were going to resize it, not chop it up.”

“Well, you can chop mine up,” said Marva, thinking she was being helpful. “I'd be happy to go home and bring it over. The taffeta would shine real nice for your video cameras.”

“God almighty, Marva, your dress is worse than Addie's!” declared Corinne.

I escaped the room as it erupted into loud bickering.

 

“Well, it looks like that's the last car that's going to make it on the road tonight,” declared Mom. Mary's Jeep carried my cousins to her house. It crept down the driveway, the headlights engulfed in white before they turned onto the county road.

The day had gone from bad to worse when the last of the Adler cousins arrived. As usual, they had failed to give us a final head count, and Mom had had to scramble to get several cousins a bed at Mary's. It took them forever to decide who would stay at the inn and who would go to Mary's. I was so confused I still didn't know who was staying where by the time they finished talking.

There was no question that the rehearsal dinner at the Red River Lodge should be canceled. The roads were too dangerous. Even the camera crew had decided to stay put and camp out in the lobby. There seemed little point in rehearsing without the minister. Ian kept the wedding party and the camera crew entertained with a card game. Alain finally woke up from a long nap. He stared morosely into the fireplace, muttering something about a weekend in Palm Beach he had passed up.

Travis, Scarlett, and June fretted over the guests who were stranded at the Grande Lucerne. And Jessica looked miserable. She had passed up the card game to sit next to her mother. With her head down and her hair straggling over her face, I wondered if she was wishing she were back at school with her friends.

Marva and Corinne had left in their snowmobiles hours ago, before the snowdrifts grew deeper. Earlier, they had helped Mary measure Charlotte and cut and baste a rough template for a dress using an old sheet. No one agreed on exactly what the dress would look like or be made of, but everyone agreed that plan B was a necessity. Charlotte held out little hope that her original wedding dress might arrive by tomorrow, especially after the evening forecast.

Grady made several trips out into the snow. He tried to shovel a pathway around the inn, and the snowplows had been nice enough to visit our stretch of road several times. But the wind and drifting snow won the battle by late afternoon. With the exception of the snowmobile paths that were barely visible from the lobby window, we were well and truly cut off. Almost three feet of snow had fallen by the time the sun set.

That was when Charlotte's tears started.

She sat on the couch in front of the fire with Henry's arm around her and clutched a tissue. The silence in the room was cut only by Charlotte's occasional sobs. Unable to handle it after the first few minutes, Ian hastily made everyone drinks. When Brittany asked if he could make her a Truhart Twister, he looked at her like she was crazy. I remembered the story I had told at the Double Olive in Atlanta and wondered if I should explain. But Ian squinted his eyes and left the room. When he returned he held a tray of drinks that looked lethal. After one sip Brittany declared her love for it. Henry forced Charlotte to drink two. This earned him a censorious glare from Aunt Addie, but a thumbs-up from Ian.

Nestor was the only one unfazed by the situation. He heated up the meal he had planned for New Year's Day and said he could make things work no matter what. Mom and I helped him in the kitchen, glad that his famous venison chili was already made. Even June would be impressed by that.

Nick had decided to stay at the inn through dinner and avoid the bedroom shuffling that was still going on with my cousins. He said he would borrow one of our snowmobiles if he couldn't make it to his mother's on foot. I felt his gaze on me as I moved around the inn, taking care of details. I helped prepare dinner and finished a few last-minute tasks in the guest rooms. It helped me forget my worries if I kept busy and tackled one task at a time.

When I entered the lobby to tell everyone that dinner was ready, I found Brittany staring at me. She took a sip from her tumbler and giggled. I wished to God that I could grab the drink from her hand and swallow it, but a drink would put me over the edge right now.

Nick walked over and stood next to me as everyone filtered into the dining room. “You have flour in your hair,” he whispered. No wonder Brittany had laughed. I didn't even care. He kissed me on the tip of my nose when the last person left the room. “Annie, why don't you just sit down and enjoy your meal? We can all lend a hand later.”

I shook my head. Somehow I couldn't see Brittany with her hands buried in dishwater. Nick reached out and massaged the back of my neck. I leaned into him. For the first time in a long time, I was too tired to talk.

“Does the minister have a snowmobile?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Well then, this wedding will happen no matter what.”

I suppose there was a simple comfort in that thought. If only a minister could solve our debt problem too. I walked over to the desk and grabbed my dad's old camera.

“I guess we'll all laugh over these pictures someday, huh?”

“You know, I can think of a lot worse things than being snowed in with you,” Nick said. He kissed me again.

A commotion in the dining room caught my attention. What now? I pulled away from Nick to see what was happening and ignored his protest as I left the room.

Charlotte and Aunt Addie stood inside the dining room doorway, arguing loudly while Mom hushed them and glanced nervously at the guests gathered near the table. But it was too late for good manners. June, Scarlett, Travis, and Brittany were focused on the doorway above us. They stared with mixed expressions of amusement and horror. I looked up to see what they were looking at and my heart sank. Macaroni reindeer dotted the garland that framed the room.

“—I've been looking for them for weeks,” Aunt Addie was saying. “Grady found them in the golf shack and was nice enough to put them around the room for me. What are you so upset about?”

Charlotte's face was purple in the low light of the dining room. She pointed up and stamped her foot. “Mom, make her take them down!”

“Now, Charlotte—”

“Mom! This is so embarrassing!”

“Let's take this into the kitchen,” Mom said as she coaxed Charlotte and Aunt Addie through the swinging doors. I put the camera down in the corner and followed Ian, nodding and smiling sweetly at the table of guests as if this happened all the time.

The door had barely swung closed when Charlotte started talking. “I can't believe you are going to let her keep them up. You have to take them down before the wedding.”

“Why? I thought you liked my pasta ornaments,” said Aunt Addie, stricken.

“Why would you think that? They are the tackiest decorations I have ever seen,” Charlotte declared loudly.

Ian stepped forward. “Look, let's leave them up for now. They're kind of fun and part of our tradition.” Aunt Addie's eyes were filling with tears and he put his arm around her shoulders.

“It's great that Grady found them, Aunt Addie,” Ian continued softly. “I was really missing them.” He looked over Aunt Addie's head at me and we exchanged guilty looks.

“Of course you don't care how this looks! You and your card games and snow golf... and your music! Ian, all you seem to think this wedding is about is you and your chance at fun and fame! Well, all of your lame attempts to get on
The Morning Show
aren't going to work. I swear to God, Ian, if you so much as try to embarrass me I am going to cut you out of every part of the video we air, especially the parts where you play music.”

Ian's expression turned cold. He clenched his jaw as if he wanted to say something but didn't trust himself. I watched him stalk off to the sink and pour Aunt Addie a glass of water. When he returned he shoved the glass into Aunt Addie's hands and glared at Charlotte.

“We are all going to remain calm here, okay, everyone?” Mom said, looking at each of us and enunciating each word. Her voice shook as she spoke. “This is not a disaster. Do you hear me? We are going to remain calm and go back into that dining room and show those people that Adlers are not people who let things like snowstorms get the best of them. Is that understood?” We all recognized her tone from childhood, the
don't mess with me
tone. But I saw her shake.