A Newport Christmas Wedding Read online

  “I know. Deep.”

  “Look at how long it took to break Alden out of that isolation.”

  “But Lucas is just a kid.”

  “A teenager now. But not to worry, you and Alden will see both of them through.”

  “I guess.”

  ALDEN CAME TO dinner that night—­alone.

  “She said she’s not feeling well.” He shrugged. “She came home and went to her room.”

  “Does she have a temperature?” Gran asked.

  “No. I made her stick a thermometer under her tongue . . . when I finally found one. She didn’t even know what to do with it. All of theirs are digital that read the temp instantly from the ear.”

  Meri looked at the ceiling.

  “Well, I’m hardly ever sick,” Alden said. “I guess we’ll be shopping for state-­of-­the-­art everything.” He sighed, sat down at the kitchen table.

  Gran poured him a glass of wine from the bottle he’d brought over the night before. “Maybe it just hormonal.”

  “She’s always hormonal. She’s a teenager.”

  Gran patted his back. “Maybe she just needs some extra attention.”

  Alden looked up at her. “You think that’s what it is?”

  Meri looked at him. She loved him so much, always had, but especially now. But suddenly she had doubts. Not about their love, but about what they were doing. Gran said it was normal to be nervous before your wedding. But Meri was afraid this went beyond nervous.

  And she wasn’t sure how to fix it.

  She wanted to discuss it with Alden but he left right after the dishes were washed and put away.

  Meri could tell he didn’t want to leave. It was hard enough snatching time together with her working in Newport and him working at home. Add wedding preparations and family and it was a juggling act.

  But they both knew he needed to be there for Nora tonight, even if Gran hadn’t practically pushed him toward the door.

  So Meri watched him trek across the dark path to Corrigan House, like so many times in the past. The moon was out and it cast the dunes and hillocks in stark relief. Alden’s dark attenuated shadow moved across them in undulating waves.

  Meri didn’t stop watching until he passed from view and she saw a light come on from inside.

  She turned from the window to see Gran watching her.

  “Am I acting all gorpy?”

  “Yes, at last. I was beginning to despair of you two ever figuring it out.”

  “What if everything changes?

  “Everything will. Of that you may be sure.”

  THE NEXT MORNING, Meri packed up her car with leftovers for a week even though she’d be coming back to the farm Thursday night after work. She usually did since her boss, Doug Paxton, had put them on a four-­day work week.

  Even though Doug had scraped together enough funding to restore Gilbert House, they were still working four days instead of five. A shoestring budget was a shoestring budget any way you looked at it. And there were only so many sponsors in a whole town of deserving houses.

  She kissed Gran good-­bye and stopped at Corrigan House on her way to the main road.

  Alden was already at work and she walked inside. For years the house had sat neglected while Alden used less and less of it. It had always been dark and oppressive. The heaviest of Victorian designs.

  Its gloominess had never bothered Meri. As an architectural restorer, she worked with old, really old, finishes and furniture, most of which were in worse shape than in Corrigan House. The project she was currently working on, Gilbert House, had been a boardinghouse for years, then sat boarded over and abandoned until Doug had “discovered” it and decided to restore it to its nineteenth century best

  Since last spring Corrigan House had been transformed. Rooms whose dark walls had ascended into darkness were now painted white, the ceilings even whiter. The massive leather furniture had been replaced with a sectional couch in neutral tones with pillows made from South American fabric, red, blue, and turquoise, that “popped” —­according to the designer.

  A huge Christmas tree stood in front of the French doors that led to a patio and a view of the sea. The four of them picked it out at Addlebury Farm when Lucas had been back for Thanksgiving. The Addlebury men had chopped it down and delivered it fresh the following week.

  It was decorated by a professional designer, keeping the wedding in mind, and Nora and Meri had made Alden take them back to the farm to pick out another “homey” tree for the family room.

  They’d decorated it with found objects and popcorn and cranberry chains. And it was so successful that a texted picture to Lucas received a “Sick” reply. Which evidently meant it was pretty cool.

  Meri passed through the dining room where the old family table still kept pride of place, but had been oiled and refinished. The buffet held two candelabra dug up from the attic and now polished and holding white tapered candles.

  At last she came to the sunporch, which was also Alden’s studio. It was another sunny day and the glass room shone with light. Alden sat bent over his drafting table. Meri stood perfectly still. She could tell by his energy he was doing delicate work, and she didn’t want to startle him.

  A minute later he straightened up, laid down the fine-­pointed pen he’d been using. “On your way back?”

  “Yep. I’m off to join the morning rush-­hour commute. I just wanted to see how Nora was feeling.”

  “Okay I guess, she went to school. She seemed fine if a little quiet this morning. I don’t suppose you have time for a cup of coffee—­or anything else.”

  Desire shot right through her. “Nope. I’ll probably be late as it is.”

  “Then I’ll walk out with you.”

  She didn’t bother saying he didn’t have to. He put his arm around her waist and they walked back through the house, like a perfectly tuned machine.

  She stopped at the back door and hugged him, hard. She could feel his heart beating steady if a little fast. She held on, trying to soak him in. Make them one. She was tempted to stay. She’d never considered blowing off work before. Not even when she was engaged—­sort of—­to Peter. But today she was tempted.

  Alden extricated an arm and opened the door. They were hit by a blast of cold air. “Out. Before I take you captive.”

  “I thought you were working on a fairy-­tale book. Is there a story about pirates?”

  “Nope, and taking you captive would involve nothing suitable for the pages of Charles Perrault.”

  She grinned at him. Really tempted. She shivered.

  “You’re cold. You better get going.”

  He walked her out to the car and opened the door; just stood looking at her. “I’ll miss you.”

  “Me, too. Maybe you could get away tomorrow night if Nora isn’t still sick?”

  “Tomorrow? No. I don’t think so.” He leaned in and kissed her. “But Thursday night you’re mine.”

  “I’m always yours.”

  He smiled. “Always have been.”

  “I know. It just took me a while to figure it out.” His breath was warm on her forehead. He kissed her and pushed her inside.

  Meri drove away, watching in the rearview mirror as long as she could. He was just standing there in his shirtsleeves like it was July instead of December.

  This would be her life. Going back and forth between the work she loved and the family she loved. Living between two places and trying to splice it all together. Meri had never minded juggling acts before. And she knew it wouldn’t get easier when they were married. But it would be exactly the right thing.

  Traffic was heavy and by the time she crossed over the bridge and got off the main thoroughfare, she was craving another cup of coffee. Even when she was staying in town she only allowed herself one cup at her apartment and one when she got to Gilbe
rt House. She did detailed work, a slip of the exacta blade and she could ruin a pattern or take off a finger.

  She slowed as she passed by the front entrance of Gilbert House. There was still little mounds of snow from a surprise downfall a few days before. It softened the front yard—­it was too small to call it a lawn—­which wasn’t due to be landscaped until spring.

  But there was a huge evergreen wreath on the refinished door. Red holly berries were clustered in the curves of a red ribbon that laced through the branches and finished in a large bow.

  The stained glass of the transom windows were clear and true to color. Hard to believe that in less than a year ago the door had been boarded over, gouged and splintered. The stained glass had been completely hidden and had to be sent out to have it carefully restored.

  Meri drove around to the back parking lot. Parked and ran up the reinforced steps to the back porch where another door was hung with a wreath of pine, golden fruits, and partridges—­plus one white dove of peace, compliments of the perennial volunteer, Joe Krosky.

  Joe and Carlyn Anderson, the project’s fund-­raiser, hand holder, general magician, gopher, and Meri’s best friend and bridesmaid, were sitting in the kitchen. It was a large square room that also served as lounge as well as boardroom; all their daily meetings were held there. It would be the last room to be renovated. Currently it leant new meaning to the term “green room.”

  “Slow day?” Meri asked, dropping her messenger bag over the back of a chair. She shrugged out of her coat and headed to the coffeepot. Someone had left a box of doughnuts on the cracked linoleum counter next to the pot.

  Carlyn shrugged. “With colleges on break, we’ve lost a bunch of interns.”

  “You have me.” Joe grinned. He was wearing his typical uniform. Overalls and a red bandana covering his orange-­red hair. He was a Ph.D. candidate in microbiology at a local university, but he spent most of his days working on the restoration. He wasn’t paid, and no one had ever asked how he could afford to go to school full-­time and work for them full-­time without pay.

  They didn’t know all that much about Joe except that he sang a mean karaoke, something Meri missed now that she was going home every weekend.

  “So who put up the equal opportunity tree?” Meri indicated the miniature fir tree that sat next to the doughnut box. It was decorated with little plastic angels and was topped by a big cardboard Star of David that was listing to the side.

  “We were discussing whether to do a manger and a menorah when Doug came in and nixed the idea of an open flame.”

  “Smart move.” Meri adjusted the star.

  Carlyn nodded. “And Krosky here said electric lights didn’t go with the ambience.”

  Meri took her coffee over to the table and sat down. “Lord, I’m glad to be back.”

  Carlyn gave her a look. “Really? You’d rather be cleaning off old paint than spending hours alone with the TDH?”

  Carlyn’s code for tall, dark, and handsome.

  “He’s got a deadline, I have work. And there’s not a moment’s quiet around there.” Meri smiled. “Well, a few. But not nearly enough.”

  “The voice of true love.” Carlyn bit into a double chocolate doughnut and chewed. “So how did the fitting go?”

  “Done at last. And it looks gorgeous.”

  Joe jumped up. “That does it for me. If you two are going to talk about weddings and go all squealy, I’m getting back to work.” He bounced off down the hall.

  Carlyn shook her head. “Crazy man. But he works hard for the money. Thank heavens he works for free.”

  “Did Doug come in today? Did he say when Hendricks is sending over someone to finish plastering the missing bits of ceiling? If we’re closing up shop until after New Year’s, I don’t want to risk any more designs falling off and breaking.”

  “They’re coming tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Good. What else?”

  “The plaster casters left a message on Friday. The molds for the reliefs came out perfectly and they’re ready to cast on a word from Doug.”

  “Great. Can we pay them?”

  “Yep. That’s where Doug is now, turning in projected expenses for the next quarter. There shouldn’t be a problem.” Carlyn looked up to the kitchen ceiling, which hadn’t been cleaned or restored and still held the soot and grease of decade of cooks, good and bad.

  “From my lips to the board of director’s ears.” She popped the last bit of doughnut into her mouth, licked her lips. “I’ve hardly had time to sit down for a meal for weeks. But now that the budget proposal is in, I’m going to enjoy what’s left of the year.”

  Meri stood. “Just make sure you can still fit in your bridesmaid’s dress.”

  “Not to worry. Well, back to work. I’ll walk you down.”

  Carlyn and Meri walked out arm in arm.

  “Goin’ to the chapel . . .” Carlyn crooned.

  They did a hip bump.

  Krosky’s “ba-­bah-­bump” echoed from somewhere down the hall.

  “Gotta love him,” Carlyn said. “See you for lunch? Kitchen at twelve-­thirty. I’ll send out for Chinese.”

  “I love Chinese,” echoed from somewhere inside the building.

  “The bouncing, singing, Chinese food-­loving microbiologist,” Carlyn said, and she and Meri bounced Krosky-­style down to Carlyn’s office, where Meri dropped her off with some fifties’ hand jive

  “And don’t forget we’re meeting Geordie Holt tomorrow night after work to discuss wedding pictures.”

  “I won’t,” Meri said, and continued on to the equipment room.

  Chapter 4

  NORA COULDN’T CONCENTRATE in school that day. She felt like a wedge was being driven in her heart. And it hurt.

  She got up from her bed where she’d thrown herself the minute she got home from school. “You’re being melodramatic,” she said at the mirror. Her unhappy self just stared back at her.

  She felt sick. The idea that they didn’t really want her kept growing and growing all day. Until she felt like she might explode.

  She wished she could talk to Meri. She could tell her things she would have never been able to tell her mother. But she couldn’t, not about this. She had been naive enough to think they could be a family. That Meri and her dad would want her to live with them.

  They acted as if they did, but maybe when they were alone they were wondering how to get rid of her. Lucas said they wouldn’t want her or him. He’d been looking it up because he must be worried, too. He’d found all sorts of statistics to prove it.

  Nora didn’t care about statistics, she never understood them anyway. But her mother had said the same thing. And even after she had filtered out all her mother’s bitchiness and the anger, she still came up with the same thing: no newlywed ­couple wanted a teenager around.

  Even the woman from the gift store had been surprised when she told her she’d be living with Meri and her dad.

  So why hadn’t any of them just said so? She was a big girl. She could take it . . . sort of. No she couldn’t. And they knew it. That’s why they hadn’t said anything. Because they didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

  What was she going to do? And how was she going to make it through the next week without totally losing it? She should never have called Lucas, and she really should never have called her mother. She was probably gloating over the mess she had made and was already concocting ways to make her life miserable when she returned.

  If she’d studied more and made better grades she could have gone to boarding school. Nora groaned. She didn’t want to go to boarding school. She wanted to live her with dad and Meri. Her mother had been right all along. She was a selfish, ungrateful be-­otch.

  THE GREAT THING about her work, Meri thought as she stepped out of the shower that night, was that you could take a long weekend and when you
came back it had only changed in increments. Restoring a historic house was painstaking work. It had taken her nearly nine months to clean the paint layers from Gilbert House’s foyer ceiling. Rush it, and you ran the risk of destroying a part of history.

  Now she was in the process of exposing a triptych window that had been covered over with plaster board to divide a bedroom into two when the structure was turned into a boardinghouse. True to form, it also had several layers of paint—­though not nearly as many as her ceiling.

  It promised to be as exciting, if considerably smaller, than her ceiling. Because it was her ceiling, just like it was Joe Krosky’s parlor wallpaper. And Joe and Doug’s Edwardian fireplace. Each project became part of you, and you got very proprietary.

  Meri dried off, then wrapped a towel around her wet hair just as her cell phone rang. She checked caller ID and smiled.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “Hi honey, back at work?” Technically, Dan Hollis was her stepfather; actually, technically he wasn’t even that, but he was her dad.

  “Yes, just for a ­couple of days. Doug’s giving everybody two weeks off.”

  “Because of the holidays or the budget?”

  “Both. Though I expect he and Carlyn will be working. It is the end of the year. And they have to file reports. So the rest of us are at our leisure.”

  “And how are the wedding plans going?”

  “Whew. It takes over your whole life. I mean I’m excited and everything, though part of me will be glad when it’s over so we can all go back to being normal.” She hesitated. “We will go back to normal, won’t we?”

  “You’ll go back to better. Trust me. My life was transformed when I met you and your mother. It may sound hokey, but it’s true. I’m only sad that she’s not here. She always had a special place in her heart for Alden.”

  “I know. I wish she was here, too. Have you heard from the boys?”

  “Yep. And they’re all ready for the big day. Will has even rented his tux. Matt is flying in on the Thursday before. I told him he better not wait until the last minute in case it snowed.”

  How about Gabe and Penny and the baby?”