The Wrong Bridesmaid, page 27
Hancock looks sick to his stomach, as if he’s regretting both getting on Etta’s bad side after the protest and hiding his dietary habits from his wife. Or maybe it’s from eating all that extra mayo?
Hancock holds Etta’s eye as he raises his hand. “I move that we petition the state to declare the carriage house of 812 Bellsy a historical site.”
Etta nods, agreeing to wipe away Harold’s sins, and the woman who’s been taking minutes the whole meeting pops off with, “Noted!”
Councilwoman Jackson raises her hand. “Seconded.”
The secretary adds, “Motion on the floor. Mayor, we’ll need to vote on this matter before opening another for a vote.”
Dad looks unsure what to do, but he knows the rules of council meetings, having presided over them for years. He stands, looking to his left and avoiding Jed’s harsh glare. “Council member Patterson, what say you?”
Mr. Patterson seems less than happy about being the first to vote, setting his pen down and interlacing his fingers in front of him. He looks at the crowd, most of whom lean forward eagerly, and then to Dad. “In favor of the motion. Yes.”
A small pattering of excitement sounds out, little squeals of hope as people grasp hands. Down the row the vote goes, and by the end, it’s tied four–four. Dad, as mayor and head of the council, will be the deciding vote.
The air’s thick, heavy with expectation. Me, I’m hopeful that Dad gets his head out of Jed’s ass and does the right thing.
Meanwhile, Jed’s grinning like it’s a sure thing. He’s got this sewed up, by his math.
Dad leans forward and clears his throat. “Aye.”
It’s just one word, but it sets off an explosion of celebration that has the whole council chambers rocking and rolling louder than the street protest a few days ago. People are hugging, crying, and someone even spins Mrs. Hackwood around gently.
Meanwhile, Jed looks like he’s about to have a fit. His face is brick red, and he stares at his brother, then me, then Winston, then back to Dad.
After a minute, Dad raps his gavel to quiet everyone. “Everyone, order please. There’s another proposal on the agenda that requires a vote.”
The crowd quiets as everyone realizes we might be celebrating prematurely. Sure, petitioning the state might stop Jed from buying some of the property . . . but could the council still go through with the rezoning?
In theory, the subdivision could have a historical carriage house in the middle of the green space, probably with a big, garish sign donated by Jed Ford.
“Don’t do this, Dad,” I whisper, and I can feel Hazel slip her hand into mine as Dad speaks again.
“I need someone to make the motion.”
This time it’s Mr. Patterson who brings the rezoning issue to the table, seconded by one of Jed’s allies, Mr. Norton. Dad nods and speaks into the microphone. “The council shall vote. Council member Patterson?”
“Nay. Keep the land the way it is.”
I inhale, as Dad looks at Mr. Norton. “Council member Norton?”
Norton’s been Jed’s buddy for years, and I’m sure Jed has felt secure in Norton’s vote for months, if not longer. But Norton knows where his bread is buttered here, and leans forward to declare into his microphone, “Nay.”
It breaks the dam, and by the time the vote comes around to Dad, the matter is decided. His nay makes it unanimous against rezoning.
Jed is furious at his brother’s betrayal, shouting over the din, “We had this planned out. What the hell?”
Etta laughs and calls out joyously, “Fuck you, Jed!”
Aunt Chrissy stands up, dutifully going to Jed’s side. “Etta, you’re only fighting against Jed because you’re a bitter old hag from losing him. You should’ve left town when he left you. Nobody would’ve missed you a lick.” She looks up at Jed as if he’s her savior and hero.
Etta waves the insult away, saying, “I gave up caring for that blowhard a long time ago. I thank my lucky stars every day that I didn’t marry him and got to spend my mama’s last years by her side.”
Chrissy snorts. “Yeah right. You’ve always been jealous of me.”
Oh, I don’t think my aunt knows what she’s done, but judging by the hard look in Etta’s eyes, it’s game on and she’s got some things she’s been dying to say. Bruises and broken bones heal, but I suspect an insult from Etta will fester in your soul.
“You traded truly living for a life of ease a long time ago, and nobody wants your fancy car and big house, least of all me, because everyone can see how empty and lonely it really is.”
Chrissy pales, looking around at all the faces watching the drama play out before them. This has been a long time coming between the two former best friends. And Etta’s not done. “You got exactly what you deserved. And I got a happy life, with my own business, friends, and family, and without having to get on my knees for a short dick like Jed.”
Chrissy huffs in shock, nervously fluffing her salon-blonde hair, and looking at Jed. “Do something.”
But Jed is completely oblivious to the argument between his wife and former fiancée. All his attention is focused on whatever he’s angrily snarling at Dad.
“Argh!” Chrissy growls, not having a comeback to all that hard truth, and she whirls and stomps out of the room alone.
Etta takes a heaving breath, her hand to her chest as she smiles faintly. “Damn, that felt good to say out loud.”
On some level, I feel bad for Chrissy. She is stuck with Uncle Jed, after all, but on the other hand, she made her bed, reveled in it, and threw it in Etta’s face at every opportunity, so it’s only fair that she gets a bit of that ugliness in return.
I hear my name and look over my shoulder, finding Hazel making her way toward us in the crowd and pulling Avery along behind her. My line of sight is broken for a moment by the suited businesspeople from the front row leaving. Jed is chasing after them, talking hurriedly. I think I hear him say, “This isn’t over.” But the head guy doesn’t look like he believes that for a second.
Turning to Winston, I ask, “Who are the suits?”
Winston grimaces, probably mentally already writing up his résumé. “Investors. Jed’s got a lot tied up in this already. They’re not going to be happy.”
I watch Jed, who for the first time looks uncertain about something. “Is it wrong that I hope they ream him a new one? I want someone to take Jed down a few pegs.”
Winston snorts. “I think you already did.”
I wrap my arm around his shoulders, letting my brother know that he’s still got an ally. “I think we did.”
Hazel clears her throat and I turn to her, hugging her tightly as I admit that “we” is getting bigger by the moment. And she’s definitely part of it. She hugs me back, and I feel more than hear her laugh. “That was awesome. You were like a one-two punch to his ’nads that he didn’t see coming. Blind nut punch.”
I grin, pushing her hair behind her ear and falling a little more in love with her craziness. Next to us, Avery and Winston are also embracing, and she says, “I’m proud of you, honey.”
His wife’s support seems to bolster Winston, because he kisses Avery warmly, stroking her hair. “I promise I’ll make the honeymoon thing up.”
The crowd is milling around, unsure what to do now that we’ve succeeded until Etta yells, “Victory party at Puss N Boots!”
Now that’s a plan.
Chapter 24
HAZEL
As we get to Puss N Boots, Avery gets Grandpa Joe set up at a table with Mom and Etta, who is entertaining him with fiery banter before he can even get his cane out of the way of the crowd. I’m not sure who is going to win if Etta and Joe start telling dirty jokes, but Mom will be a fair and impartial judge if the need arises.
People sit at the various tables, chatting and catching up, and a few people claim the dartboard and pool tables, starting friendly games.
As soon as Charlene sees the crowd, she climbs on the bar. “Listen up!” she yells, waiting for the hum to die down. When it doesn’t happen fast enough, she places her fingers in her mouth and whistles loudly. That gets everyone’s attention instantly.
“Listen! There’re too many people in here for me to run around like a chicken with my head cut off, so there will be no waitressing tonight. If you want something, you’d best bring your happy ass up to the bar to order. And you can take it back to your table yourself. The only place I’m going is Tay Tay’s window, the cash register, and the bathroom because the good Lord knows I can’t go more than an hour without needing to piss after my babies did a number on my bladder. Understand?”
A buzz of agreement works through the group, and they go back to talking among themselves.
“Good. Now, who’s next?” Charlene asks, hopping down from the bar.
I go behind the bar to make drinks for our table, and check in with Charlene. “Want me to grab my apron?”
She shakes her head, giving me a grateful smile. “Not for now. I’m okay as long as everybody does what I say. And if they don’t, I guess they’ll go hungry, now won’t they?” She draws an invisible tear down her cheek with a finger, feigning sadness.
I laugh at her attitude and slip a twenty into her apron despite getting my own drinks. Charlene grabs my hand, stopping me. “Thanks, Hazel.”
I squeeze her hand, understanding that this crowd has the potential to stress her out, but also to tip her enough to make her entire month in a few hours.
“Let me know if you change your mind. All tips are yours either way,” I promise. I gather up the handles of the beer mugs, able to carry five in each hand but luckily not needing that many for our little group.
Wyatt’s legs are stretched out, making him look about ten feet tall and sexy as hell as he looks over to his brother. “Did you know about the historical thing all along?”
“No, I was going through the files over and over,” Winston says, accepting a beer from me. “I hoped to find something, but when I did, Jed came into the office. He knew something was up, so I flat-out asked him about it, just to be sure he knew, and he totally did. He didn’t care, told me to keep my mouth shut. He actually said, and I quote, ‘You owe me.’ And that was when I knew exactly what I had to do.”
Wyatt takes his own beer, shaking his head sadly. “I’m sorry, man. What’re you going to do now? Because I’m pretty sure Jed is already working on your termination papers.”
“Get a new job, I guess,” he says with a shrug he can’t possibly fully feel yet. “I can be an architect for another developer or freelance maybe?”
“What about the wedding expenses?” Wyatt asks as he sits up, silently pulling me into his lap. I’m confused what they’re talking about but don’t interrupt the moment the brothers are having.
Winston smirks cockily. “What about them?”
“He’s going to hold them over your head,” Wyatt says, and across the table, Avery does a double take. Obviously, she didn’t know either.
But Winston laughs as he pats Avery’s hand soothingly. “He can try. Seriously, what the fuck can he do at this point? He said he wanted to ‘give’ it to us, and now he has. It’s all paid for and done. I didn’t ask him to and he didn’t loan the money to me. As far as I’m concerned, we’ll send him a very nice thank-you note, and call it good.”
“Well . . . maybe we’ll return the food processor he gave us,” Avery quips, grinning.
“No way,” Winston snaps. “That thing has thirteen speeds. Thir-teen.”
We all laugh, and Wren joins us, coming back from the bathroom.
“What’d I miss?” she asks, taking a beer and sitting down.
Wyatt suddenly backhands Winston’s arm, making Wren laugh. “Holy fuck, man! You’re right. It’s no big deal once it’s done, and Jed can only hold it over you if you let him. Maybe my way of coping wasn’t the best option, though I’m not sure I would’ve been able to take on Jed the way you just did when I was younger. I’m proud of you, bro.”
Winston looks surprised but pleased by the praise from Wyatt. “Proud of you too.”
“What about me?” Wren demands. “Someone needs to be proud of me!”
Winston and Wyatt look at each other and then back to her. “Definitely proud of you,” Wyatt says.
“And scared to death too,” Winston finishes.
Wren preens. “As it should be.”
Jesse joins us, throwing his hat into the conversation, apparently overhearing enough to tell Wren, “You don’t look too scary to me.”
Wren pins him with an icy glare. “Have we met?”
Jesse looks mock hurt, pouting. “At the wedding? You thought I was one of the caterers?”
Wren cringes. “Oh yeah, sorry again.”
“Jesse Sullivan, Hazel’s brother,” he says, offering his hand.
Wren shakes. “Wren Ford.”
Jesse smirks in that hot-boy way, leaning in as though confiding when he says, “I know, sweetie. Everyone knows who you are.”
Wren doesn’t look sure whether she likes that or not, but Jesse captures her in conversation. That’s probably not a good idea, mostly for Jesse’s sake, because Wren is way out of his league, but if he wants to shoot his shot, I won’t cockblock him.
I turn to my man, running my fingers through his hair. “You want to get out of here?”
Wyatt sighs, his thumb tracing along the back of my hand. I know his answer before he speaks, and a pit opens up in my belly. “I feel like I need to go home and check on Dad. I’m afraid he’ll have drunk himself unconscious again after that shitcircus.”
Not as bad as I feared, not as good as I hoped. I’ll take it. “I understand. Go, take care of your family.”
“I’ll go with you,” Winston says, starting to get up, but Wyatt holds out a hand.
“Enjoy the evening with your bride. I got this, whether it’s blame or credit, though we both know which it’s going to be.”
Wren, still involved with whatever Jesse is saying, pauses to throw over her shoulder, “I’m not volunteering. I’ve done my daughterly duty more times than any woman should. If anyone has to see Dad in his undershirt and BVDs tonight, it should be you.”
That decided, Wyatt kisses me thoroughly, definitely lifting my spirits, fist bumps Winston, and heads toward the door after telling him to watch over Wren. As if she needs protection from my brother. On second thought . . . I narrow my eyes, staring at Jesse and Wren shrewdly. I’ll be looking out for both of them.
On the other hand, I hate seeing Wyatt leave with the wedding over and the hearing done. I feel like our time is short, and I know my heart is going to break into a million pieces if he goes.
Chapter 25
WYATT
My worries that the house would be a mess or possibly even burning down when I get back are eased as I pull up and see that the lights are on, no windows are broken, and things are quiet when I close the door on my truck.
A bit too quiet, and I suspect Mom’s upstairs as I go inside and find Dad in his office, stone sober but looking like he could use a drink.
“Dad.”
He looks up, his thumb tracing the stitching of the leather chair in a repetitive pattern that feels like he’s been doing it for a while. “If you could answer one thing for me. What were you thinking?”
He’s not raging, more confused than anything else. Calmly, I sit down on the leather couch, propping my elbows on my knees. “Jed had to be stopped. For Cold Springs’ sake and the people who live here, which is something you should’ve been thinking too.”
Dad gets up and paces around the room, his usually tidy hair standing on end from his hands. “I know!”
I’m confused at his outburst. “You know what? That Jed needed to be stopped? Then why didn’t you?”
“I couldn’t.” Dad stops and shakes his head, his eyes unseeing, as if he’s looking into the past. “It happened so fast. He was talking about how we’d usher in the next phase of Cold Springs, and how good the growth and progress would be for everyone. It sounded like a legacy I could be proud of. He conveniently left out the farms and families, and I’m ashamed to say that once I found out, it seemed like they could just move, you know? For the greater good?”
“He’s good like that. Master manipulator extraordinaire.”
Dad snorts. “You can say that again.” He’s quiet for a moment, contemplative, and then meets my eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you before.”
I lean forward more, tilting my head. “You do now?”
Dad nods. “He made paying for your schooling seem like a kind thing for an uncle to do. And a business degree is generic enough to help no matter what you wanted to do. I didn’t see the long game, not then and not now. Until it was too late.”
“He came to see me after I left. Told me I would never amount to anything without him.”
Dad flinches, his eyes beseeching me. “I didn’t know he did that. Didn’t know where you were or I would’ve come.”
I believe him. He might not have come in with apologies the way he is now, but if he knew I was only a short drive away, he would’ve tried to talk me into coming back. In the long run, I’m glad he didn’t, though, because I’m better for it, having had enough distance to recognize and appreciate the things I did learn from Dad. And also realize that maybe my leaving everything and everyone behind was a bit of an overreaction, like setting fire to the whole house when there was just one spider.
“Jed was wrong. I didn’t need him,” I tell Dad, standing up. “I’d already had a role model, already seen what a good man did, and knew success wasn’t achieved with threats and manipulations.”
Dad’s shoulders slump, and he shakes his head at my comment. “Thank you for that, but I’m not sure I qualify as a good role model these days.”
It feels weird putting my hands on my father’s shoulders, giving him a pep talk . . . but that’s what I do now, looking into his eyes. “You made a mistake. It happens. The truth of your character will be in how you recover from that, how you make amends, how you serve Cold Springs. You said you wanted to leave a legacy, but don’t you see? You already have.”
