The Cinderella Project (A Comedy of Love, #1) (18 page)

The realization of just how much I missed her was staggering. Despite the unexpected after-dinner battle, despite the hints that she might not fully reciprocate my sense of commitment, I couldn’t deny that I really, truly loved that girl. My marriage proposal was anything but a snap decision driven by lust or heady stupidness. It was an honest-to-goodness commitment to love, cherish and care for her all the days of her life. She had been so wonderful when I met her: perky, alluring, caring and very committed to me. Or so I thought. What had happened? Was it my prolonged absence? Relationships, like plants, needed care and nourishment. Was she just feeling so neglected that she felt compelled to look further afield to fulfill whatever needs I wasn’t taking care of? Would things change if I were to just quit my research, skip graduation and find a job that accepted a Bachelor’s of psychology? Or was I seeing a darker reality to this woman I intended to have as my wife? Was Moiré right about everything?

Moiré. The thought captivated me. The broken twilight through the trees was mesmerizing and I drove the familiar mountain road on auto-pilot as I let loose my mind to explore a possibility I had so desperately fought to avoid—me and Moiré. Did she even feel anything for me? I couldn’t allow myself anything but friendship with her; I needed to make things right with Ella. But let’s just say, hypothetically… No. I couldn’t continue to go this route. Besides, she had other guys who were certainly doing their best to win her heart. I was too late to the party to stand a chance.

If nothing else, Moiré had made it clear that her heart was already given to whomever that guy she saw at the masquerade dance was. Had it been her dinner date, I could have handled that—he had a name and a face. I didn’t know how to compete with a phantom fantasy.

I slapped the side of my head. “Get your mind off her, Nick. You’ve only got this weekend to figure out how to fix your engagement before it falls apart. Running away from your woman isn’t the greatest way to start that process. You made the rules; now keep them. Moiré is a friend and a friend only.”

I sighed in frustration, but my spirits lifted when I rounded the corner that gave me the first good look at my parent’s cabin. There it was—a wood and glass jewel poised gracefully above a crystal blue mountain lake with evening sunlight dancing across it. The sight of trout jumping made my mouth water; Dad had an amazing recipe for grilled rainbow.

The cabin’s long, green roof sloped down as if bowing a welcome to visitors. Several walls had floor-to-ceiling windows facing the some of the best vistas in these woods. The two-tiered back deck was larger than my apartment (but then, my
car
was nearly larger than my apartment) and I could still hear the creek-creek-creek of excited feet running down the stairs that led from the deck to the small wharf to where the row boat, kayaks and wave runners were waiting to show us a good time.

I slowed to maneuver around a trio of horseback riders, nodding a greeting at a family I knew by sight, if not by name. The strange blend of privacy and community amongst cabin dwellers was a nice change from the college scene. Everyone came to these woods for the same purpose and it was easy to get along with strangers who were as relaxed as you were.

“Moiré would have loved this.”

My watch chimed eight as I pulled up and around the last little bend and parked in the sloped drive. I set the parking brake and started grabbing my stuff. As I emerged from the back seat, I heard fast footsteps on the stairs.

“Nick? Nick! Oh, Nick, you’re here!”

I looked up with a smile. The duffle got flopped on the trunk and I came around my car just in time to catch my mother in a warm, tight hug and enjoy that “mom” smell I knew so well. I kissed her cheek and she kissed mine. Mom let go and held me at arm’s length. Hers was the most familiar face in the world, possessed of a loveliness that defied age, despite the laugh lines she’d picked up over the years. Her golden hair was still trimmed to “mother of small children” length. The sparkle in her gray-blue eyes was as welcoming as ever.

“Hey, Mom. Surprise!”

“Well, I’ll say,” she said in just that tone she always used for pleasant surprises. “You weren’t supposed to be here until tomorrow. What happened? Is everything okay? Where’s Ella?”

I grinned. “I had a chance to get away early and figured I’d take it. I knew you and Dad would be here and I thought it might be nice to get some time with you guys before the craziness began. Oh and Ella ran into some last minute problems; she couldn’t make it.”

Mom beamed. “Oh, that’s too bad. I was really looking forward to getting to know her better. But I’m so glad you could come a little early. Well come in, come in!” She went for my bag, but I got to it first.

“Can’t let you do all the work, Mom.”

Mom gave me a look. “I’m a mother, Nick. I’ve been doing all the work since at least nine months before you were born. Longer, if you want to talk about me taking care of your father. Hand over the bag.”

“I’ve been hauling bags of trash for you since I was five. I’ve got this.” I winked at Mom and started for the stairs, hearing an exasperated sigh behind me.

“So, Nick?” Mom ask
ed as she hurried to join me. “How is that darling fiancée of yours?”

The initial joy of meeting Mom evaporated. I put on my “happy but nonchalant” face. Best to get settled in before worrying her. “Eh, she’s been a bit stressed with planning the wedding and stuff. On top of that, her landlady threw her out at the end of her contract, for some stupid reason,” a reason Ella never
had
gotten around to mentioning, “and she’s settling into her new place.”

“Oh. Well, that’s too bad. You
did
help her move, didn’t you?”

I gave Mom a look.

“Of course you did.” She squeezed me in a one-armed embrace and we climbed the stairs. “You always were the kind, responsible child. Heaven knows you didn’t get that from your father.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Hey, Mom. Dad’s a pretty responsible guy.”

She sighed. “Okay, I guess I have to give you that. But let’s not worry about it. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to see you. He’s been talking non-stop about getting you and Doug out on that lake for some fishing. I’m sure he’ll want to go as soon as you can get your waders on, but I’m claiming your time tonight. He can have you once all your siblings arrive and I’ll be busy with the grandkids.”

I flinched mentally. My three sisters all had kids—really, really cute kids. Like, chinchilla cute. Of course Mom would want time with them. A pang of loneliness chased a feeling of being left behind through my heart. Even Doug, the youngest of all of us
, had married and started on the kid thing without delay; his wife was four months along. I turned a sigh into a yawn and Mom looked at me with that appraising gaze all moms seem to have.

“Nick, you look absolutely exhausted. Have you been getting enough sleep?”

I frowned. “I haven’t gotten enough sleep since I started the doctoral degree.”

“Oh, Nick,” she crooned, hugging me again.

We reached the front porch and she paused before opening the door. She examined my face closely. “Look at those bags under your eyes. And you’re as bloodshot as I’ve ever seen you. You need a good night’s sleep. I’m appalled that you even tried driving! You could have fallen asleep at the wheel and gotten yourself killed!”

“I know, Mom. I’m sorry. I felt great this morning, but I only managed three hours of rest last night. I guess it’s just catching up to me now that I’m off the road.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re safe. Now let’s get you inside and unpacked.”

I gave Mom a tired smile and entered the cabin. I spent an extended minute taking in the ambience of the place. It was tradition.

The living room sprawled away to my left. Dad’s trophies, a real grizzly skin rug, hardwood everywhere, overstuffed leather couches—all these combined to create an interior decorator’s rustic male dream. Dad’s crown jewel—the sixty-five-inch plasma screen—had been carefully fitted into the wall opposite the couch. Mom had balked at the extravagance, but Dad reminded her that the law didn’t exactly mandate the granite countertop she’d chosen, either.

I knew the place by heart. Seven bedrooms, three-and-a-half baths. Plenty of space even for a gaggle of grandkids. None of the amenities held a candle to the lifetime of good memories, though. I took a deep breath through the nose and let a smile conquer my face.

“All right, all right,” Mom chuckled, with a light swat to my rear. “Quit daydreaming, Nick. Go unpack your stuff and then let’s get dinner going. I wasn’t planning on three.”

I gave Mom another quick squeeze, thanked her and jogged downstairs to my room. I’d barely changed the décor since I left for college. A few, badly outdated football posters flanked blank spots that used to display celebrity babes I’d once had crushes on. A copse of trophies stood tall on the shelves above my computer desk. The bed still had the same, blue sheets and comforter that Mom had gotten me for my 16
th
birthday. I set my bag on the computer chair and sat on my bed. Once my feet were bare I indulged a “little kid” moment, squishing my toes into the thick carpet before standing and flopping backwards on to my bed.

“I heard that Nick,” Mom called from upstairs. “Are you ever going to stop jumping on beds?”

I laughed and headed up to help Mom. She was chopping vegetables while a beautiful, steamy fragrance rose from a pot on the stove.

“Lemme give you a hand with that.” I crossed to her and got a knife.

I commenced dicing green peppers and she turned to other tasks. “Where’s Dad?”

“He went into town about an hour ago. He should be home soon. He needed ice for the coolers and some fancy kind of fish bait he kept talking about. We really weren’t expecting you this soon.”

“I hope I haven’t caused you any trouble.”

“No!” Mom reached over to squeeze my shoulder. “We love having you home, Nick. I’m so glad you’re here. So anyway, tell me about you. How’s school?”

I shrugged. “Hoping the Department comes through with that money. They said I was on the short list, but… they haven’t exactly been good about keeping ‘promises.’ I should have enough for rent and such through the end of October, but I’ll need to get a job A.S.A.P after my dissertation’s done.”

Mom’s lips turned down. “Nick, I really wish you’d just let us help with college. I know the economy isn’t great, but,” and she gestured around, “we’ve got enough to help.”

I shook my head, but cracked a smile. “Thanks, Mom. I really do appreciate that. But you know how it goes.”

She heaved a great sigh. “Yes, yes. Must prove your independence. Be a man and all that. You know you don’t have to prove anything to me, Nick.”

I smiled more. “I know. I’m proving it to myself.”

Mom’s frown turned into a wan grin. “That is another of your best traits Nick. No one will ever be able to call you a freeloader. But anyway, more importantly, how are the wedding plans going?” Her voice had that same, little girl giddiness that most women seemed to have when they talked weddings and romance.

I exhaled as quietly as possible. How was I supposed to break this? “Well, Mom, it’s… it’s going a bit faster than I expected.”

“Faster?”

I focused on cutting carefully as I chose my words. “Ella… doesn’t want to wait until December.”

Mom moved the pot to a back burner and put a frying pan in its place. She poured in some olive oil and gently laid a trio of herb-rubbed chicken breasts in the pan. “When
does
she want to get married, then? We can re-arrange our calendar if we need to. You know I wouldn’t miss your wedding for the world.”

Chop. Chop. Chop.

“Nick?”

Chop. Sigh. “Um… I’m not totally s
ure, Mom. She’s talked about October. She’s even talked about September.

“September?” Her cooking noises ceased. “Nick, September isn’t even two weeks away. She means late September, at least, doesn’t she?” Mom stepped up next to me and I could see confusion and concern in her eyes.

I continued staring at the peppers. “She said something about the thirteenth, just earlier today.” I hastened to add, “But I’m not sure if she meant that.”

“The
thirteenth
,” Mom gasped. “Why, Nick! That’s no time at all to make all the arrangements we need.”
I could feel her energy levels spiking as she kicked into “frantic Mom” mode. I’d seen this every time my sister Carissa put off yet another report to the last minute, or the time Sonja had accidentally torn Grace’s formal dress on Homecoming night, or the incident where Doug forgot to send in his college application until 15 minutes before the drop-dead time. So much for a relaxing vacation.

“Why so sudden, Nick? Do you even have a tuxedo? What about flight tickets to your ho
neymoon? Do you even
have
a honeymoon arranged? What about invitations? I haven’t even seen them yet. How is
anyone
supposed to get ready for a wedding on the thirteenth?” She bustled the way she always did. I didn’t see the point of moving around like that, but I guess it helped her think or something.

I set the knife down and turned to face her. “Mom. Mom. Hey, calm down for a second.”