A Newport Christmas Wedding (2 page)

“Okay, you're done.” Edie stretched out her hand to help her down. Meri lifted one side of the skirt while Edie lifted the other with her free hand and her grandmother lifted the train over the washtub.

“Watch that you don't step on the pins,” Edie told her. “I don't think I dropped any but my eyes aren't what they used to be.”

Meri stood in one place on the oval rug while Edie undid the dress, lowered it to her feet, and helped her to step out of it. Meri reached for her sweatshirt and pants and put them on. Though the house was always toasty, she felt particularly vulnerable for some reason. “Wedding jitters,” her friend Carlyn called it. “You'll get over them.”

Easy for Carlyn to say. She'd never been married or engaged, as far as Meri knew. With no plans to in the near future.

Edie packed up her sewing box, and Meri and Gran saw her to the door. In the distance, Meri could see the lights of Corrigan House, a massive gothic structure that often stood dark and foreboding when Alden had lived there alone. Now, lights blazed throughout the house, thanks to Nora and, Meri suspected, Mrs. Miller.

She sighed. In two weeks Corrigan House would become her home. Alden and Nora and Lucas would become her family. Or she would be become part of theirs. They'd always been part of the Calder-­Hollises.

And that's what made her breath catch, her pulse race, her stomach flip. Would it be like those scales of justice, balanced as long as everything stayed the same; but once the balance shifted, would they all come tumbling down?

And if they did, would they be able to start again?

 

Chapter 2

N
ORA STOPP
ED INSIDE
the mudroom door and shed her jacket and boots. They'd pretty much beaten the snow down into an icy path between Corrigan House and Calder Farm, and it had been slow going.

She was cold. Luckily the heat was going, the lights were on, and the kitchen was bright and smelled like lemons. Nora was still shocked everytime she came home to find that the living and dining rooms in the once gloomy, dark old house were painted white, the kitchen a light yellow. Her dad had commissioned it all when he planned to sell last summer.

Thank God Meri had put an end to that idea. Nora had been so grateful and happy then. Now, not so much. She wanted to be happy. But she was scared. Scared she'd be shoved to the background again. She guessed that meant she was selfish, just like her mother always told her.

She walked through the kitchen and opened the door to the sound of vacuuming. Mrs. Miller, the housekeeper, was always cleaning. It should be annoying but it wasn't. Nora had loved Corrigan House the way it had been, dark and never dusted. It was always a relief to visit after her mother and Mark's perfect house in the 'burbs.

She hoped that Corrigan House wouldn't become like that. She'd never even seen the cleaning ser­vice from the other house. She'd just come home one day and find her room spotless and everything misplaced or thrown out, and it pissed her off every single time.

She didn't want to go back there. She wanted to stay here. She wanted Dad and Meri to want her to stay. They acted like they did, but . . .

Mrs. Miller looked up and smiled and went back to her vacuuming. Nora passed through the living room, the dining room, and out to the sunporch where her father worked.

He was sitting at his drafting table, facing the sea. Like always, he was wearing an old white shirt with the collar cut off, the sleeves rolled up, the whole thing spattered with ink and paint. He had graphics programs that he used for some projects, but he liked doing art by hand better.

He didn't notice her, so she just stood on the threshold watching him for a while. She'd missed him so much. Lucas had, too, though he'd never admit it. He was thirteen, out of touch with his emotions, probably. Or maybe he just kept them all bottled up inside. Kind of like their dad.

She moved in closer.

Her dad looked up.

“Gran says dinner is at seven because of the fitting.”

“Great. I might just get this finished today, then.”

“What are you working on?”

“A book of fairy tales. Like the world needs one more. But I'm not complaining. Job security.”

“Which one is that?”

“La Belle au Bois Dormant.”

“Sleeping Beauty? Huh. Symbolic, Daddikins?”

“Huh?” He stopped to look a question at her.

“She looks like Meri.”

“Does she?” He turned back to frown at the picture. “I guess she does, a little. I've had Meri on my mind a bit lately.”

He smiled and waggled his eyebrows, something he used to do when she was little and before the divorce had broken them apart.

“Well, when I get to the next story, I'll paint you as Snow White.”

“I'd rather be Grumpy, or Dopey, or maybe Maleficent.” She hesitated. “Or maybe you were planning to use Mom.”

Her dad put down his pencil. Turned to face her. “I would never do that. Your mother and I weren't right for each other. If we had been more mature, we would have realized it earlier.” He tugged a piece of her hair that had grown below her ears in the last few months. “But if we had, I wouldn't have you and Lucas. And if you're worried that the same thing will happen when Meri and I are married, don't be. We've known each other a long time.”

“Since she was a baby.”

“Yep. We've pretty much got the kinks worked out.”

He reached for a pen. “Now let me get back to work. Mrs. Miller has been threatening all week to throw me out so she can start preparing the room for the reception. I don't dare stop. She might just move me out while I'm not looking.” He made a funny face that made Nora laugh.

It was going to be okay. It was. It had to be.

M
ERI OP
ENED THE
oven door and took a deep breath. “The chicken smells wonderful and done. Shall I take it out?”

“Yes, and then you'd better call over to the other house and make sure Alden isn't lost in his work and has forgotten the time.”

“You know, between Mrs. Miller and Nora he's been on time almost always.”

“I know.” Gran slid the cutting board onto the counter near the stove. “But he's been distracted lately.”

“We've all got a lot on our minds,” Meri said. She picked a little piece of skin from the chicken and popped it into her mouth.

Gran shook her finger at her just as the back door opened and a rush of cold air burst into the kitchen. There was some stomping and rustling out in the mudroom and Alden and Nora came into the kitchen. Alden kissed Gran's cheek and handed her a bottle of wine.

Gran laughed. “You're a bad influence on me, Alden Corrigan.”

He smiled and moved to Meri.

Meri's heart did a little flip, as it always did when he walked into the room. Tall and dark, thin but fit, black hair that curled slightly and touched his collar. Tonight he was wearing a black chamois shirt and black jeans.

“Just in time to carve,” Meri said before he wrapped her in a hug and kissed her.

She wriggled out of the way. She still hadn't quite gotten used to kissing Alden in front of Gran.

And every time she reacted that way, Gran shook her head and rolled her eyes. Meri guessed she would get used to it. Alden had been her best friend ever since she could remember. He'd been there at her birth. They'd run the gambit of relationships, big brother to her little sister, brat to his teenager, mentor to her student, babysitter to his children, but always there was a bond between them. It took Meri longer to realize how deep it went and what kind of future they could have together.

Gobsmacked.
That's what she'd been the day last spring when out of the blue she realized she didn't want to marry her almost fiancé, but wanted to be Alden's wife. She still sometimes marveled at how things had happened.

Meri handed him the carving knife.

He laughed at her with his eyes while looking totally serious. He always suckered her with that expression. She gave him a longer kiss.

“Better,” he whispered.

“Yes, that's all well and good,” Gran said. “But some of us are hungry.” She poked Nora, who instead of laughing, jumped.

“Meri, strain the beans while I mash the potatoes. Nora, you want to get the ice water out of the fridge and pour?” Gran lifted the wine bottle. “I'll just get the corkscrew.”

“You've created a monster,” Meri told Alden under her breath.

“Yes, we have wild drunken orgies while you're slaving away in town. At least a glass each with dinner.”

He considered the chicken, speared it with a poultry fork and began to carve.

Meri transferred the beans to a bowl and put them on the table, then eased the serving bowl between the bread basket and the salt and pepper shakers. “Nora, could you hand me that butter dish?”

Nora turned, her elbow knocking the glass she'd just filled. It bobbled then fell over, drenching the table and nearby dishes.

“Oh no.” She looked around for a place to put the pitcher. Put it on the table and tried to pick up the glass and ice cubes. “I'm sorry.”

“It's okay,” Gran said, snatching a towel off the peg by the sink and tossing it over the spill. “This table has seen its share of overturned water glasses and worse.”

“It's not okay. I'm so clumsy. I can't do anything right.”

“Nora!” Meri said. “What's with that? It's so not true.” She took a plate that had gotten the worst of the spill and tipped it over in the sink. “There. Like new.”

But Nora just stood there, looking like she was about to burst into tears.

“You're very graceful,” Gran said. “We're none of us at our ease these days. It's bound to happen when big changes are coming. Good changes,” she added.

An audible gulp escaped from Nora.

Meri frowned and glanced at Alden. He was concentrating on the chicken.

The spill was quickly cleaned up and the dishes replaced. Alden brought the chicken to the table.

Meri dropped a big chunk of butter on the beans, and Gran brought wineglasses for the three adults.

“Milk or juice?” she asked Nora.

“Nothing, just water.”

Meri looked more closely at Nora. Was she getting sick? Was something bothering her? Something at school? Should she try to have a girl-­to-­girl talk with her after dinner? They'd always been able to talk before. But that might change, too. Being stepmother to two teenagers was unknown territory. Would Nora still want to talk to her?

Maybe she should mention something to Alden. Sometimes he could be so clueless, she thought, exasperated. Just as she thought it, he stepped behind his daughter and gave her a quick squeeze.

Okay, so not so clueless. Actually, to be fair, he was usually very with it. Gran was right. They were all a little on edge. Meri knew she was. Big changes.

N
ORA THOUGHT DINNER
would never end. Gran had made her favorites and she barely remembered eating them. And to make it worse, everybody kept asking her if she felt all right.

Well, she didn't. But she wasn't getting sick. It was something else.

She went straight to her room when they got home. Meri hadn't come with them. She said she wanted some alone time with Gran. But Nora heard her tell Alden that he should spend some time with her, Nora.

She groaned and threw herself on her bed. Now she was a chore.

She didn't give him the chance to spend time with her. When the two of them got home, she said she was tired and went to her room. She even locked her door, not that he would ever come in without knocking.

He was good that way, not like her mom, who used to pop in at the oddest moments. Nora knew it was because she was trying to catch her doing something wrong. But her dad wasn't like that. He trusted her.

She tried to imagine Meri sneaking up on her. Searching her drawers and backpack for contraband. Putting her on restriction for her bad attitude. Taking her cell away because she talked back. But she hadn't done anything to make Meri or her dad angry . . . at least that she knew of. But that might change.

Especially if Meri had a baby.

Nora turned over on her stomach.
A baby
. Of course, they would want to have their own family. Then it would start all over. But she would be gone by then. Another few months and she'd be eighteen. She could get her own apartment. Or maybe she'd go to college. Then it wouldn't matter . . . except on holidays. But what about Lucas?

She reached in her jeans pocket and pulled out her cell. Opened the text app.

We nd 2 talk.
Pressed send.

Waited.

Five minutes. Ten.
Where r u.

Nothing.

Another ten minutes passed.

She broke down and called him.

“What? I'm busy.”

Nora waited for him to bubble up from whatever thing he was thinking.

“Is anything wrong? Are you okay? Dad? Nothing's wrong with dad is there?”

Okay he was back. “I needed to talk to you. What if Meri has a baby?”

Silence at the other end.

“She's pregnant? Is that why they're getting married?”

“No. At least I don't think she is. But what if she does?”

“She probably will. And soon. Statistics show that second families are often in a rush to start again.”

“Why do you know about marriage statistics? You're only thirteen.”

She could hear him breathing. Finally he said, “ 'Cause I looked it up.”

Then she got it. “You're worried, too.”

“I am not.”

“Yeah you are. You think they aren't going to want us around when they start having their new family.”

“Well, they won't, will they?”

“Why not?”

A heavy expulsion of breath. “Haven't we already lived through that once? Mark and Mom did the same thing. Started having babies and revolving their lives around
them
.”

“Oh. I didn't think you noticed.”

“I noticed. I just chose to put my energy elsewhere.”

Nora frowned. Her little brother was sounding like a jaded old man. “Is that a quote?”

“From the therapist they sent us to. Pretty good imitation, huh?”

“Yeah.”
Too good.

“So is that why you called? To tell me Meri isn't pregnant?”

“No, I just needed a second opinion.”

“About what?”

“Whether they'll want us—­me—­around once they're married.”

“You're just worrying about that now? Kind of late, don't you think?”

“So I'm not as smart as you. I didn't even think about it until this lady asked me where I was going to live when they were married.” Nora sniffed. Her eyes were stinging and she wanted to burst into tears, but that would be such a lame thing to do. Especially in front of her brother.

“Well, think about it. They probably would like some alone time.”

“They get alone time.”

“Real alone time. Privacy.”

“They have privacy. Meri stays here sometimes. They're at the other end of the hall. You don't hear anything . . . or anything.”

“Ugh. TMI.”

“Well, you don't.”

“What if they want to mess around in the kitchen and you show up looking for a glass of water?”

“Oh.”

“For an old lady, you sure are naive.”

“I'm not. I'm just not like you, genius.” And she was glad she wasn't.