Speak Now (46 page)

“Your parents’ house is nothing shabby at all. It’s a very nice—”

“Then we should start looking in their neighborhood. You’d save a fortune, even if you bought the house next door to it for Verna.”

“Well—”

“Exactly. Deal with the fact that you have expectations that are attached to your family. I can handle it, and the realtor has figured it out as well. Make sure the house has the details I like with the amenities that you are accustomed to. Make it work with my style and with yours.”

By the time they stepped in the door, their expectations had grown united. The entry way looked exactly how she’d imagined the perfect one to be—beauty and something impressive without being pretentious. The way she decorated would define the tone of the house. Already, she knew what she’d do. “I like it.”

Jonathan’s brief squeeze on her arm told her that he agreed. He said nothing as they walked into a bright, open formal living room, formal dining room, and kitchen. As she led them through the house, Lorraine described each feature. “There is a large guest suite down here, including a bedroom, bath, sitting room, and mini office. Those doors open to a small terrace off the back—and there’s the water. The wall there separates it from the main terrace—and perfect privacy. I think the last owners used it for a mother-in-law suite, but it’d be perfect if you have visitors on a regular basis... perhaps clients...”

“Or Verna until we find her a house,” Cara whispered to Jonathan.

Before he could respond, Lorraine led them into a brightly lit office and stopped mid spiel as she said, “Oh, and I forgot, but there is a house four streets over—it needs to be gutted and completely remodeled, but it is way under market value as it is. You’d recoup your money the day you finished the renovations even if you decided against keeping it.”

“Sounds perfect. Let’s look at it after this,” Jonathan agreed.

Despite the stress surrounding the day, Cara’s wedding day dawned bright and beautiful. She awoke refreshed and excited.
The moment Trenna arrived, she began passing out schedules to everyone remotely connected to the wedding. Cara read over it, impressed at the combination of perfectly orchestrated segues from one essential to the next, yet with enough wiggle room for unforeseen interruptions. A Bridesmaid’s Brunch ensured no one ran on low blood sugar—something Cara considered brilliant. By two o’clock, they collapsed into chairs at the salon to have their hair washed, trimmed, styled—anything necessary. By four, they drove to the church where Trenna’s crew of facial artists and manicurists took over the rest of the preparations. At five, they all stepped into their dresses and were escorted all over the place—into the building, to the gardens, and to Jonathan’s car—for bride and bridesmaids pictures.

Cara caught a glimpse of Jonathan as one of Trenna’s assistants hustled him out of the way before he could see her—not that she cared. Riley, however, chased after him to show off her “
be-u-uful dress” and hair “pretties.” Without a second thought, Cara sent the photographer to capture that moment. She couldn’t wait to see it.

Her mother spent the entire day in tears. Her father laughed at odd times—likely to avoid tears. Jonathan’s mother seemed to hold back, trying not to intrude, until Cara stepped over and whispered, “I will be sorry not to have strong memories of you here today. You’ll be part of my life for a very long time—I hope—and I’d like it to start with today.”

“Jonathan said you were one of a kind—you are.” The woman’s hands cupped Cara’s face gently. “You are so good for him. I thought I’d love you for his sake, if not for my own, but I didn’t need to worry. You’re a wonderful addition to the family.”

Trenna hurried up to them and said, “I don’t know if we have a problem or not.”

“What is it?”

“It appears that the Fillmores, the children’s grandparents? They are here. They have an invitation, but they aren’t on my list. Normally, I wouldn’t say anything, but I didn’t know...”

“I invited them,” Jonathan’s mother admitted. “I knew they’d want to be here to support Jonathan and for the children’s sake. They RSVP’d to me, but I forgot to tell Jonathan.”

Nodding, Trenna turned to Cara. “What about you? Are you comfortable with this, or should I make a note to keep them away from you?”

“Not at all. In fact, can you be sure I know who they are? I’ll seek them out at the reception.”

Before Trenna could respond, her cellphone rang. She frowned and turned to answer it.
“The Agency, Trenna speaking.” Cara couldn’t help but listen as Trenna spoke to the person on the other line. “I’m sorry, I don’t know who you think you’ve contacted, but I am a wedding consultant. I do not do personal security. I suggest you che—” She turned to Cara, shrugging and shaking her head. “I am not trying to be discreet. I am telling you that I am not a security firm, and I cannot help you with your situation. I’m sorry, but I have a bride waiting for help. I have to go.”

Cara shook her head. “What on earth?”

“The guy on the phone insisted that he was calling ‘The Agency’ for protection from a corporate espionage assignment gone wrong.
He really thought I used the wedding consulting as some kind of code. Weird.” She pointed to the door. “I’ve got to check a few things. You’re on in ten.”

~*~*~*~

At six o’clock sharp, the doors to the church opened and Cara walked down the aisle, feeling like the beautiful woman Jonathan always insisted she was. The aisle felt inordinately long—almost endless—but at last she reached the front and took Jonathan’s hand. Had it been only a few short months since she’d stood at the front of a church wearing a beautiful gown and a little girl—the girl who would now be her daughter—had mistaken her for the bride?

Cara turned and winked at Riley. The child beamed and shouted in a weak attempt at a whisper, “She’s gonna be my new mommy!”

From the moment she took his hand, Cara knew their weeks and months of a hands-off policy had not been excessive, or unnecessary. They each reacted strongly to the contact. The attraction pulsed, affecting everyone around them. Jonathan whispered, “Not long now...”

Riley wriggled, shuffled, swayed, and nearly danced along the line of attendants.
On the other side, Bryson made great, sweeping arm movements designed to inform her of how distracting her movements were. Cara chuckled. Jonathan groaned. Carly tried to lay a calming hand on the little girl’s shoulder, but the minister’s next words changed the entire tone of the wedding.

“—
just
cause why this couple
should
not lawfully be
married,
speak
now or forever hold your peace.”

“Forever?”
Riley stared at the man, with wide eyes. “I can’t hold it for five minutes—ask Daddy! Forever?”

A titter rippled over the church.
Verna crept from her place at the edge of the family pew and beckoned for Riley to come to her. The child started to protest, but something in the woman’s eyes subdued her. As Riley turned to leave, Cara could have sworn she heard the little girl mutter, “Now I think I gotta go.”

The tension that had held them at opposite poles since that first evening dissipated. In its place, a warm
, comfortable glow seemed to emanate from the couple and into the hearts of every guest present. When the minister spoke of denying self in favor of another, she pledged in her heart not to fail him. When the music, designed to knit hearts together, swelled as they lit a unity candle, she felt as though hers would burst. And when every eye trained upon them as they finally came together for that first long-awaited kiss, the look of love and adoration in Jonathan’s eyes took her breath away.

“May I now introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Jonathan Lyman? What God has joined together, let no man separate.”

“Not possible,” she murmured as they nearly danced down the aisle to the doors that led outside. It didn’t take more than a second after reaching the steps where they’d greet their guests for Jonathan to steal the second kiss—and the third. He stood, his arm around her waist, unwilling to let go—even for a second.

~*~*~*~

The room filled with dancers, diners, and dreamers. Riley seemed unwilling to leave Cara’s side, but when her grandmother promised a late movie and a slumber party, the child kissed her father and new mother, waved, and went to eat her cake. Time dragged. Jonathan’s eyes screamed for silence and speed. His hand squeezed hers anytime someone said anything that hinted of extending the celebration. They danced, mingled, and when Cara knew neither of them could take one more minute of self-control, she caught Trenna’s eyes with their pre-arranged signal. “It’s time.”

Jonathan turned and frowned. “For what.”

“To change to leave.”

“Thank God.” At her glance of reproof, he shook his head. “I’m serious
. I don’t think I’ve ever been grateful to the Lord than I am at this moment.”

A new idea occurred to her. “Dance with me. Lead me over to Trenna’s side and then out the side door. Try to be discreet but don’t be obvious
—that you’re trying to be discreet.”

“Simple but lavish?”

Cara grinned. “You can do it. You have that kind of talent.”

It took
several minutes to make it across the room, but when they did, the couple exhaled in unison. Tension sizzled between them until Cara thought she’d go crazy. Her laughter filled the stairwell before she clamped her hand over her mouth. Jonathan’s quizzical look prompted her to kiss him before whispering, “I keep thinking I have to control myself. I don’t. I can totally make out with you in the car if I want.”

Jonathan sprinted toward the doors, causing her to giggle. He shook his head. “What? I’ve been good. I’m not being good anymore.”

Their travel clothing had been hung in a room on the fourth floor of a hotel across the street from The Oakes. By the time they entered, Cara couldn’t imagine leaving again. Never had she imagined that she’d give anything to avoid her own reception.

~*~*~*~

The deejay announced the bouquet toss. The young women gathered around the foot of the stairs, waiting for the toss and squealing as the bouquet left Cara’s hands and flew through the air. Several couples stood around, watching the scene as Jonathan pulled off the fedora he’d put on in the hotel room and tossed it into the air for the single young men to catch. Once more, in what seemed to be a new normal, Jonathan paused, kissed his bride, and jogged out of the building, holding her hand.

Though many of the guests followed them outside, smiling and waving, Trenna joined one man in the corner. She smiled at the successful end of another wedding and said, “
Jackson! So, what do you say to this one?”

“I say that you are the world’s best planner. I’ve never seen two more jittery people become so relaxed in each other’s company so quickly. It seems as if
someone
knows exactly what each couple needs.”

Trenna shrugged. “I do what makes my clients happy.”

“I overheard one of the bridesmaids talking. She said everything that could go wrong did.”

“It did.
I thought we’d never make it through the day without another catastrophe.” Her eyes closed as she took a slow, deep breath. “But we made it.”

“And no one is the wiser.
Not a guest here would assume that anything had gone wrong.” Jackson gazed at her for a moment. “So what caused the problems?”

“Don’t know.” Trenna slid her tablet into its case and met his gaze once more. “I can’t decide if it’s just the natural result of a rush job—”

“Haven’t you had those in the past?”

“Yes, but—you’re right.
Probably not that. But it could be. It’s possible. It also could be someone who wanted to put a stop to the wedding. A client of either of theirs that wasn’t happy or… something.”

“Or someone who has it out for you.
Might have nothing to do with them at all. A client who didn’t get the lobster because she couldn’t afford it and blames you or more likely,” he added with a sardonic twist to his lips, “someone who regrets the marriage and figures it’s your fault.”

“Not funny.
You amaze me with your cynicism regarding marriage,” Trenna said, forcing herself not to snap.

“I’m not cynical about marriage—only weddings.” He swept the room with a glance. “Still, as I said, no one here would believe that you feel sabotaged with this wedding.
You outdid yourself—especially if you consider it a “rush job.”

She smiled. “And I bet not one
guest would believe that I had a request for my ‘security services’ today.”

“Security services
?”

“Yep.
Some guy practically ordered me to pick him up from some rest stop outside of Chicago and hide me away. Seemed to think ‘wedding planner’ was code for ‘get you out of the country’ or something.

Trenna’s phone buzzed.
She glanced at the screen and passed it to Jackson. “That’s why I love what I do.”

IT COULDN’T HAVE BEEN MORE PERFECT. THANK YOU. CARA

~*~*~*~

As the limousine whisked them away from the reception, Jonathan pulled her clos
e. In the darkness of the car, their eyes couldn’t communicate. Neither complained; they found conversation came easier than ever—and words were still optional. “I love you, Cara mia,” Jonathan whispered.