A Newport Christmas Wedding (3 page)

“So is that all? I've got to study for my finals.”

“What am I going to do?”

“Learn to cope. It's pretty much a done deal. And if you're lucky, they'll get a divorce soon.”

“That's terrible.”

“That's fact. Almost forty percent of second marriages fail within the first five years.”

“Do you want them to fail?”

“I want to study for my test. I'll be home in a few days. I'm getting a ride with a friend and his parents. Now I have to go.”

They hung up.

The kitchen?
Why did her thirteen-­year-­old brother think about things like that when she hadn't?

But what did he know? He was just a kid who looked up statistics. Maybe she should get a third opinion. Not Gran or Meri. They would say that of course they wanted her, because they wouldn't want to hurt her feelings. And she would feel like such a jerk because she was thinking about herself instead of the wedding and how happy her dad was these days.

She could ask Carlyn when they went into Newport for Meri's surprise bridal shower.

Or she could ask the one person who would really know. She hesitated. Immediately got that familiar sick feeling. She keyed in the numbers and hoped no one would pick up.

 

Chapter 3

T
HE NEX
T AFTERNOON,
Nora went straight home instead of coming to Gran's like she had been doing. Meri heard the school bus stop down by the main road. She glanced out the window, only to see Nora turning into the drive of Corrigan House.

Meri had spent part of the morning with Alden and she was feeling happy and content, a brief respite from the anxiety and insecurities about married life to a man she'd known all her life.

Meri spent her days uncovering the past. Sometimes there were surprises, but basically a ceiling was a ceiling—­for better or worse. A relationship was always changing. New discoveries and new understandings. Things had certainly changed between them. Something good. Deeper. She wasn't worried about the two of them. She knew they'd have their rough moments. God knows they'd had a few.

It was the other stuff that kept niggling at her. Could she become a part of their family? Father, son, and daughter? What would be her place there? Alden said he didn't expect her to play mother to his kids, just be there for them, as a friend, as herself, the way she had always been. When he said it, she felt like she could do it.

But now, watching Nora's pointed cap and ear flaps moving slowly between the dried stalks of sea grass that separated the two houses, she wondered. Nora had entered into all the plans and festivities with enthusiasm. They'd had great fun. Nora had gone with her and Carlyn to pick out their bridesmaid dresses. To choose things for the gift registry that Gran had insisted they have. She'd totally embraced the whole formal wedding at Corrigan House idea. Made plans to help decorate.

Then suddenly yesterday it all seemed to change.

Normally, Nora would stop to look out at the sea and the breakwater that guarded their little expanse of beach before going inside. But today she'd gone straight into the house without stopping, not even looking up.

“Do you think she's coming down with something?” Meri asked Gran, who was rearranging the gifts on the dining table for the umpteenth time. “She seemed awfully quiet at dinner last night. And she got so upset about spilling the water. Now she's gone home instead of coming here.”

“I suspect she just needs some Dad time.”

“Maybe,” Meri said, and opened the package that had been delivered that afternoon. “What's this?”

Gran took the utensil from her, looked at the three-­pronged claw. “Ice tongs. Sterling and stainless steel.”

Meri smiled. “You mean when I'm married I can't use my fingers anymore?”

“Not for parties.”

“When was the last time there was a party at Corrigan House?”

Gran sighed. “A long time, a really long time. But I expect having you around will make Alden more sociable.”

“If you say so. But what about Nora? I'm kind of missing the old in-­your-­face Nora, spiked hair and all.”

Gran placed the ice tongs alongside the serving flatware. “Well, don't. That was all protective camouflage. She's finally let herself relax her guard because she feels safe with Alden and with you.”

“And you,” Meri said. “And so do I.” She gave her grandmother an impulsive hug. “You'll still look after us once Alden and I are married?”

“What kind of question is that? I should be asking that question.” Gran paused.

“How could you even think we wouldn't be here for you?”

“I didn't. But I wonder . . .”

“About what?”

“If maybe Nora is feeling a little neglected, or in the way.”

Meri pulled out a chair and sat down. “I didn't even think about that. I was so careful to include her in things. But that was easy, I like having her around. I never thought—­ But of course all the attention has been on me, me, me.

“Ugh. I'm going to be terrible at this. And I'm not sure Lucas even likes me.”

“Of course he does. He's just not around as much. And he's very much like his father.”

“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.”

A
LDE
N 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.”

T
HE 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 Gilbert 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.