Almost Like Being in Love (12 page)

BOOK: Almost Like Being in Love
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“No.” Her father sliced into his pork, the knife scraping against his plate.

“Of course not. And while it's wonderful that your daughter wants to follow in your footsteps professionally, she certainly doesn't want to get lost in your shadow.” Nancy accepted the basket of rolls from Caron's mother. “I'm sure that's why Kade Webster is no longer your golden boy, Russell.”

The conversation came to a sudden standstill, as if Nancy Miller had steered them all into an unexpected traffic jam.

“What are you talking about?” Her father's gruff voice cracked the silence icing the room.

“With you as his mentor, Kade Webster was almost an overnight Realtor success in the Panhandle. Someone that good is going to want to strike out on his own.”

Caron struggled to find a way to turn the conversation back to her—anything but talking about Kade. “I don't think—”

“Your situation isn't anything like Kade's, of course.” Nancy glanced back and forth between Caron and her father. “I mean,
there were rumors of a less than amicable parting between Kade and your father, but I prefer to ignore rumors. I shouldn't have mentioned it at all. I apologize. We probably shouldn't talk business all night.”

“Thank you, Nancy.” Caron's mother turned toward the other woman's boyfriend. “Now, what did you say you did again, Gunther?”

As Caron's mother steered the conversation to a neutral topic, Caron settled back into her chair. How was she supposed to stay angry with a woman who unknowingly took what Caron had always wanted—and then treated her as a professional peer?

•  •  •

Tonight, the safest place in her parents' house was the kitchen.

Her mother and father sat in the family room, enjoying coffee and fresh strawberry pie with Nancy and Gunther, who managed to hold his own in the conversation, despite being the owner of a charter fishing boat and not a Realtor.

Alex's father had disappeared early, two slices of pie tucked away in a Tupperware container, one piece for him, one for Alex's mom. Both pieces would be eaten by Mr. Madison. Alex's mom ate one meal a day, if that.

And now here she was, playing a sulky Cinderella, hiding in the kitchen as she loaded the dishwasher and scrubbed the pots clean, avoiding interaction with Nancy Miller. And her father.

She was being childish. And stubborn. But there was no changing her attitude this late in the evening.

“Can I help with anything?” Alex scooped the last bite of whipped cream and strawberries off his plate.

“I'm about done here.” She sat the last pot in the dish drainer.

“So are you going to stop hiding and join the rest of us?”

“I'm not hiding—”

Alex stopped her protest with a subtle shift of his shoulders.

“Fine. I'm hiding. But I'm also tired. And I really can't play nice anymore.”

“But Nancy Miller has been nothing but pleasant—”

“I know that, okay?” Caron gripped the edge of the sink, suds dripping off her fingers. “I didn't think she'd be here tonight. I don't want to like her, but she's making that impossible. I'm confused . . . and just tired.”

“Too tired to go swim in your parents' pool for a little bit?” Alex placed his plate and fork in the sink. “They're starting to discuss mortgages and interest rates in there. I'm sure we won't be missed.”

“Sounds perfect.”

And now she had no excuse not to tell Alex about how she'd won a destination wedding. She could only hope and pray he'd be excited about the idea—and not feel as if she'd backed him into the corner about proposing.

“See you in the deep end.”

Caron dried her hands on a dish towel. After a good meal, Alex was usually relaxed. Of course, Alex was always laid-back.

Less than twenty minutes later, she'd slipped into a faded black-and-white tankini she kept in the closet in her parents' guest room and sat on the edge of the pool, the water slick against her legs, the air thick with the humidity and the faint scent of chlorine. Alex swam toward her from the far end, his long, muscled arms slicing through the water, his legs kicking slow and easy. When he reached the wall, he flipped over, disappearing beneath the water away from her again, droplets of water splattering her arms and torso.

So long as he kept swimming, she didn't have to talk.

Caron gripped the cement curves of the pool wall. This was absurd. She and Alex were in a long-term relationship. They'd
talked about getting married more than once. For all intents and purposes, they were engaged . . . almost. They just hadn't done anything specific. Yet. She'd tell Alex what had happened in Colorado. They'd share a laugh. And then they'd figure out when they wanted to use the unexpected gift of a destination wedding.

Happily ever after for them. And their parents.

“You're very dressed up tonight.” Her father appeared in the hallway as Caron checked the items in her beaded gold clutch.

“Well, it's a special night.”

“Really?”

“Alex and I are celebrating our one-year anniversary.”

“One year.” Her father clapped his hands. “I guess this is a case of fathers and mothers know best, eh?”

Caron paused by the front door. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“All those times you fussed when we teased about betrothing you to Alex—”

“Dad, please. You and the Madisons embarrassed us talking like that. We were in high school. We could make up our own minds about who we wanted to date. Or not date.”

“Well, you and Alex ended up together after all. I won't say I told you so—”

And he didn't. But Caron knew what her father was thinking.

“Going to join me?” Finished with his first set of laps, Alex pushed his thick brown hair back off his forehead and rested his crossed arms over the edge of the pool, his hazel eyes tinged a faint red from the chlorinated water.

“I'm good here for now.” She spun tiny whirlpools with her feet. Time was up. “So while I was in Colorado, I went to a bridal expo with Margo and the girls . . . and the most unexpected thing happened.”

“Really?”

“The vendors gave out all sorts of prizes. Photography packages.
Wedding cakes. Music for your wedding reception. All the wedding fun.”

“Nice.”

“The grand prize was a destination wedding in Colorado. Telluride, to be exact. It's this amazing place, where you have to ride a gondola over the mountains into the town.”

“Sounds different.” Alex did steady kicks with his legs, seeming ready to turn and launch off the side of the pool again and head for the other end.

“I won it.”

Alex blinked. Once. Twice. “You won . . . what?”

Caron plunged her feet into the water, splashing water up onto her thighs. “I won the destination wedding and the honeymoon. In Telluride.”

“But we're not getting married.” Even as Alex held on to the side of the pool, he straightened his arms, pushing away from her. “I mean, I haven't proposed—”

“I know you haven't proposed, Alex. A woman doesn't overlook something like that. But we've talked about getting married.”

“Yes, we've talked about it. But usually there's a proposal before the wedding and honeymoon is planned. The whole ‘Will you marry me?' tradition.” Alex's brow furrowed. “And usually the future husband has a say in the plans.”

“Alex, I filled out one entry form.
One.
Winning was some sort of crazy fluke.”

“What if I don't want to have a
fluke
wedding?”

“Excuse me?”

“When I propose, I want to get married here. In Florida. In our home church, with our family and our friends.”

“But we haven't even discussed this. And if you look at the
photographs I took, you'll see how spectacular Telluride is. Bridal Veil Falls—”

“You're right. We've never even discussed something like this.” Alex released his hold on the wall. “A destination wedding isn't our style. Running off someplace with a small group of people and getting married? Excluding most of our friends and family? Why would we do that?”

“You're dismissing this without even thinking about it!” Caron's raised voice seemed to slice through the air. “We've been given a wedding and honeymoon. It's all paid for. What am I supposed to do with the grand prize?”

“Give it back.” Alex spoke as if he'd settled the matter. “Do you think my mother is going to get on a plane and travel all the way to Colorado?”

“Do you think your mother is going to handle some huge wedding here better than a smaller destination wedding?”

Spoken and yet-to-be-spoken words quivered in the air between them.

“This is not just about my mother, Caron.” Alex kept himself afloat by kicking his legs. “I don't want a destination wedding.”

“And what if I do?” The rough edge of the wall scraped against the back of her legs and the palms of her hands.

The two of them were locked in some sort of verbal tug-of-war about a wedding she had won. By chance. That she hadn't even been certain she wanted. And now she gripped the prize with both hands, almost daring Alex to take it away from her.

“It seems we have a problem.” Alex stared at her, his body swaying back and forth in the water with the rhythm of his kicks.

“Yes, we do.” Caron could play the stare-down game just as well as he could. “A Colorado destination wedding sounds fantastic.”

Alex's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing. “I don't agree.”

“I can see that. And I guess you have our wedding all planned out?”

“Well, I always thought I'd have some say in it, rather than being told where it was so I could just show up.”

Yanking her legs from the pool so that water splashed into Alex's face, Caron scrambled to her feet.

“Where are you going?” Alex swam toward the side.

“Home.” She wrapped a flowered beach towel around her shoulders. “You know what? Nancy Miller was nicer to me tonight than you're being right now.”

“Caron—”

“Good night, Alex.”

ELEVEN

C
aron shoved the teal and purple pillows on her gray couch to one end, stretching out as she held her phone up at the proper angle so she could see the image of her sister-in-law's face.

“Can you still hear me, Vanessa?”

“Yes. I can still see you, too.” Her sister-in-law's smile came through even miniaturized by FaceTime.

“I'm sorry I didn't talk with you last Monday when Logan and I Skyped.”

“After he told me what you all talked about and what he said to you, I'm not surprised you didn't feel up to more conversation.”

“Yeah. He was taking his big brother role pretty seriously.” Caron snagged a handful of Hot Tamales from the bowl resting on the coffee table beside the couch. She popped two in her mouth, savoring the sweet and spicy tang of her favorite candy.

“Your big brother's back on the road with the team. I promise to just listen. That's what sisters are for.”

“I don't know.
Every night when I go to bed, I think about the day I quit working for my dad. Did I do the right thing? Should I have stayed? Could I have swallowed my . . . not my pride, exactly, but my
hopes
, and stayed around and watched Nancy Miller get everything I wanted?”

“And?”

“How do you stay when someone comes in and steals your place? Not that I have her experience. I don't. But she's where I wanted to be—well, eventually.” Caron blinked back the hot sting of tears. Useless. “You want to know the funny thing?”

“What?”

“My father invited Nancy and her boyfriend to dinner last night and . . .”

“And?”

“She was nice.”

“And that's funny because . . . ?”

“Because I didn't want to like her. It would be easier to not like her if she was pretentious or . . . or—”

“Not nice?”

“Yeah.” Caron gathered a few more candies into the palm of her hand.

“Okay. So Nancy Miller is nicer than you thought. And she took your place—what you hoped to be your future. So that door is closed?”

“If by ‘that door,' you mean working for my father—yes, it's closed. I slammed it shut. I can't imagine going back there for any reason. And then after what Logan said—”

“He was out of line, Caron.”

“No, he wasn't. Not really. I didn't like what he said to me, but I can't stop thinking about it. Questioning why I played basketball in high school. Was it just because my dad liked basketball? Was it a way to get his attention? And then Logan
suggesting that I wanted my dad to make it easy on me at work . . . Is there any truth to what he said?”

BOOK: Almost Like Being in Love
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ads

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