Legacy (Steel Brothers Saga #14) - Helen Hardt Page 0,26
day later, my mother called. “Mazie has invited you and me to the ranch this weekend to make plans.”
“Mom, how am I supposed to keep up with my studies when I’m nauseated all the time and I’m running around all weekend?”
Yeah, morning sickness had arrived. Only I didn’t have it in the morning. I had it most of the day. Brad kept the townhome—I had already moved in—stocked with saltine crackers, the only food that didn’t make me want to puke.
“Daphne, you’re only going to get married once. Mazie and I want to do this for you.”
So Mom and Mazie were on a first-name basis already after only one phone call. That was good. I guessed, anyway. One great thing about the wedding—it gave my mother a project to focus on. Anything that kept her mind out of dark places was a plus in my book.
As luck would have it, Brad and his father were on a business trip this weekend. It would be just us girls. Mazie was lovely, so everything would work out.
Right?
I kept telling myself that.
“I should come along,” my father said. “I want to meet these people.”
“Mazie says George won’t be there,” my mom said.
“Lucy, shouldn’t we meet our daughter’s in-laws before the wedding?”
“In a perfect world, yes,” Mom said.
Which meant this situation wasn’t perfect.
I knew that, but still, Mom’s words hit me in the belly.
I absently rubbed my abdomen. It’s okay, little dove. Everything’s okay.
“I’m coming.”
“No,” Mom said. “Let me do this, Jonathan. I need to do this. By myself. I want to show you and our daughter that I’m okay.”
Finally, Dad agreed. Mom had used the magic words. She wanted to be strong. He had to let her, just like both of them had to let me be strong.
I believed in my mother. She’d apologized all over the place for her actions, had promised she’d never do it again. In fact, she hadn’t had a drink or a Valium since then. She was seeing a therapist and was determined to remain sober.
She was going to be okay.
“Daphne!” Mazie hugged me tight. Then she turned to my mother. “You must be Lucy. Welcome to Steel Acres!”
I missed Ebony and Brandy. One of the hands was taking care of them for the weekend because of my mother’s allergy to dogs. Mazie had promised the house would be dog-dander-free while we were there.
I looked around. The house seemed empty without Brad.
I was just as glad George wasn’t around, though. He’d been kind to me about the baby, but still, I didn’t want my mother to deal with him just yet.
“I’ve been making some plans,” Mazie went on. “I don’t want to step on your toes, though. You’re the mother of the bride, after all.”
“Whatever Daphne wants is fine with me,” Mom said.
“Of course, Daphne will have the final say in everything.”
“I just want something small,” I said. “Just Mom and Dad, a few friends from school.”
“What about family?” Mazie asked.
“Maybe my half brother, though I barely know him.”
“Yes, Larry,” Mazie said. “Brad mentioned him. They went to high school together. He’s a nice kid.” Then she laughed. “Oh, but he’s not a kid anymore. None of you are.”
“Yeah.” I nodded.
“Brad has a few other friends from high school he’ll want to include,” Mazie said. “And Sean Murphy and a few others from college. We don’t have any family. George and I are both only children.”
I lifted my eyebrows. Interesting. No wonder George had wanted a big family.
“I’ll do the flowers myself,” Mazie was saying. “I love horticulture. Daphne wants yellow, and I have the perfect blooms.”
“Mom, you have to see her greenhouse. It’s amazing.”
“I’d love to take a look.”
“Then there’s the food. Belinda is a wonderful cook, or we can have a small meal catered. What do you think, Lucy?”
“Whatever Daphne wants,” Mom said again.
“Come out back,” Mazie said. “We have the perfect little alcove for a small wedding.”
My mother followed Mazie, but I stayed inside and joined Belinda in the kitchen.
“Hi, Belinda.”
“Hi, honey. Great to have you back. Are you hungry? I can fix you something.”
“No. I’m feeling kind of icky.”
“Morning sickness?”
“Try all-day sickness.”
“I’m sorry, honey.”
“It’s okay. I’m getting used to it. Sort of.”
“Spaghetti tonight,” she said. “One of Miss Mazie’s favorites. Her mother was Italian.”
“Spaghetti’s my favorite too, when I’m not pregnant, at least. Homemade meatballs?”
“You bet. Made with our own beef.”
“Yum.” I rubbed my belly, hoping I’d have a break in nausea to enjoy it. “Hear that, little dove?”