to give you a beautiful day. And the most important thing, you’re marrying Vince. Now I want you to relax, to enjoy yourself. We’re going to have fun with this. I’ll call you back. Yes. I promise. Go help your mother.”
Parker pulled off the headset. “God!”
“I bet she’s not worrying about pomanders now.”
“No, she’s too busy cursing the gods.” As she sat up, Parker twisted the top off the bottle, took a long, long drink. “I don’t blame her for being upset. Who wouldn’t be? But a winter wedding means the possibility of snow. It’s March in Connecticut, clue in. But in her mind, the snow is a personal insult aimed at ruining her life. Twelve to eighteen.”
“I got the bulletin.”
“We’ll need the drive and parking plowed, the paths, porches, and terraces cleared.” She drank again, and did what she’d advised Whitney to do. She breathed. “The road crews are out, so we’ll have to trust them to do their part.”
“Four-wheel drives?”
“The limo company can switch to the Hummer. The groom’s willing to forgo the limo and load up his SUV with his party. I’ve talked to all the subs. We shouldn’t have a problem.”
“Then I guess I’d better get a shovel.”
BY EIGHT, WITH THE SNOW SLOWED TO A FITFUL TRICKLE, MAC sat in the kitchen with her friends devouring a bowl of Mrs. G’s beef stew.
“When is she coming home?” Mac demanded. “We’re nearly out of provisions.”
“First of April,” Parker said, “as usual. We can make it. We’ll make tomorrow, too. I just talked to a very happy, slightly drunk bride. They’re having a wonderful time. They have a karaoke machine.”
“We’re plowed, forecast is for clear skies tomorrow, with a high of thirty-eight. The wind’s already easing off. Cake’s in the cooler and is a thing of beauty.”
Emma nodded at Laurel. “Flowers are the same.”
“The kids will be here first thing in the morning to shovel the path, clear the portico and terraces,” Parker put in. “So that’s cleared off our list.”
“Thank God,” Emma said with feeling.
“I’ve got the FOB taking pictures tonight at the rehearsal party with his pocket digital. I’ll play with them, put something fun together in one of the small albums. We’ll gift it to the bride. And now.” Mac pushed up. “I’m going home, ease my aching body into a hot bath.”
She walked home in the thinning snow, the path lights sparkling. It made her think of Carter, how he’d talked her into walking in the snow instead of wallowing.
She’d call him. Sink into that hot bath with a glass of wine, some candles glowing—and Carter on the line. She wondered how he’d react to phone sex, and heard herself laugh. He was always surprising her. She’d bet he’d be a phone sex champ.
She let herself in, listened to the silence. She liked the quiet, liked her space. Funny how he didn’t disturb either by being there. He just seemed to make it more theirs. Their quiet, their space.
Weird thought.
She glanced at the photo on her workstation as she stripped off her coat. Maybe not so weird. They framed up together nicely.
It was good, this phase they were in, she thought as she started upstairs. Not a holding pattern, not exactly, just staying in that nice, comfortable space. A kind of order and ease.
She walked into the bedroom, tossed the dress boots she hadn’t needed after all toward the closet. She took off her earrings, dropped them on the dresser.
Then stopped, hissing out a breath as she looked around. She hadn’t made the bed that morning. She’d tossed clothes on the chair. She’d dropped socks there, too. Her beautiful closet . . . It wasn’t a disaster, she thought, but why had she put the gray shirt with the white ones? And the black skirt belonged in the skirt section, not in the jacket section. And that was Carter’s jacket.
She’d fallen back into old habits, she thought in disgust. She had a place for everything now, so why couldn’t she put it there. Control her own space, her own things, her own . . .
Life, she thought.
Because she was messy, she admitted. Because life was. Because Carter’s jacket was hanging with hers, and what did it matter? Socks got lost, beds got rumpled. Your mother was a selfish woman, your father was careless.
And sometimes it snowed on your wedding rehearsal.
What had Parker said?
Some things in life are out of your control. You can make it a party or a tragedy.