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After a miserable, rainy few days, April and Jeff’s wedding day dawned clear, bright and, for late August on Long Island, cool. Clearly, the cosmos smiled on this happy union. Either that, or April was right. Summer had more control over the universe than she realized.
As she looked out over the grounds of The Hermitage from the third-floor balcony, Summer allowed a brief moment of smug pride to overtake her. The estate, once the crowning jewel of the elusive Gold Coast where the Vanderbilts hobnobbed with the Carnegies on Long Island’s North Shore, now managed to pay its exorbitant property taxes as a catering facility and movie locale.
From the Juliet balcony, Summer had a perfect bird’s-eye view of the manicured lawns and the frenetic activity below. Pink rose petals scattered across the top of the twin reflective pools in the center of the lush, English gardens. Swaths of silk, in lavender and gold, draped Greek columns spaced along the white runner, where the bride would walk to her groom. Jeff would wait for his bride beneath a white and gold pergola entwined with ivy and riotous blooms of bougainvillea.
Below the silken wings of the columns, dozens of golden urns, crammed with cascades of flowers, framed strategic intervals along the perimeter. A burst of color: violet, scarlet, and tangerine enhanced the dreamy hues of the silk.
Beside her, April sighed. “It’s perfect.”
Yeah. It would be perfect. In another hour or two. Summer still had a thousand details to attend to before the actual event, but she had outdone herself so far.
“Let’s go, April.” She turned away from the balcony, clapped rapidly. “Hair and makeup in the next room.”
April’s frown etched wrinkles in her forehead and around her lips. “You sure I can’t stay here with you a little longer?”
“You having second thoughts?”
“About getting married?” She shook her head emphatically. “No way. About having the crew from Taking Sides broadcasting the ceremony live on the air for their nationwide audience? Ho, yeah! I’m terrified something monumentally ‘April Screwup’ will happen in front of the cameras. What if I trip walking down the aisle? What if a bee stings me right under the eye? What if—”
“What if you leave those pesky details to me? You know, I spent hours online last night, looking for a Bette Davis quote for you.” April had a habit of quoting fifties’ movie starlets when her emotions ran high, Bette Davis chief among them. “But apparently that old broad had a cynical view toward marriage. So, I’m going to quote Judy Garland instead. ‘For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul.’”
April visibly relaxed, and her smile beamed brighter than the sun outside. “That’s beautiful, Sum.”
“So are you. Now, go on. This is your day. Yours and Jeff’s. Enjoy every minute of it.”
April’s gaze dropped to her stocking feet. “We should have just eloped to Bermuda.”
Summer grabbed her sister’s hands and held them tight within her grasp. “Now you listen to me. Your first wedding was a quickie, hush-hush affair, thanks to a surprise that became my favorite niece.”
“Your only niece,” April amended with a quirked eyebrow.
Exhaling a puff of air from pursed lips, Summer waved a dismissive hand. “Semantics. Besides, you and Jeff have found love. Real love. Do you have any idea how rare that is? How extraordinary? Forget the cameras, forget the people watching here and at home. When you get to the edge of the bridal runner, you focus on Jeff. Every step on that strip of white satin will take you that much closer to him, to the future you’ve planned together. Think of what a great dad he’ll be for Becky and Mike. And maybe... who knows? Another kid or two?”
April blushed scarlet and yanked her hands away. “Summer!”
“What? It’s not too late, is it?”
“Well, no, but...” She shook her head. “I’ve got a twenty-two-year-old daughter.”
“Becky won’t be twenty-two for a few months yet. And anyway, so what? That means you’ve got a built-in babysitter.”
“No, it doesn’t. Becs has her own life to lead, and I won’t saddle her down. Time enough for her to worry about diapers and formula and overdue bills.”
Oh, no. They were not going to traipse down the Memory Lane of April’s first marriage today. Today was about joy, love, and a golden future.
“Well, then you’ll have to get Rainey-Day-Wife to help you out. I happen to know the owner if you need a referral.”
April placed her hands over her ears. “No office talk today, please. It’s my wedding day.”
“That’s my bride. Now, scoot. I’ve got work to do.”
April turned to walk away, then whirled and hugged Summer tight enough to fracture her spine. “There’s still time for you too, you know.”
In a flash, Summer’s imagination brought up a vision of Craig, the smile on his face yesterday when she’d fallen into his arms in her kitchen, the pulse of his heartbeat against her. She indulged the moment for a breath or two, then shook the memory away.
No. Her happiness ship had sailed long ago. Now all she had left were the splintered pieces that had dashed on the rocks of reality.
♥
HOURS LATER, SUMMER glided down the bridal runner with one of Jeff’s friends as her usher. She wore a one-shouldered silken gown the color of burnished gold, and her hair was loosely twisted to the side of her nape in a low bun, lending her the aura of a Grecian goddess.
On either side of the aisle, personal cellphones, held by the guests, popped up to capture every step she took. Outside the seated crowd, television cameras on wheeled dollies kept in perfect step with her and her escort.
Her hands tightened on her bouquet of burgundy-colored heart-shaped roses and stargazer lilies. The heat of all those klieg lights, the intense scrutiny, the mania had Summer itching to run away, to hide in her nice, quiet bathtub at home. No wonder Lyn hated the spotlight. Suddenly self-conscious about every breath, Summer had to force herself to move slowly, to smile, to suppress the nerves jumping synapses like some anatomical game of leapfrog. When she and her groomsman reached the pergola, she moved to the left and turned to watch the rest of the procession.
Lyn, escorted by her now fiancé Doug, never flinched at the assortment of flashing lights and cameras. Garbed in the same golden gown, hers wrapped in a more modern style with straps on both shoulders and a sash across her waist, she glowed. Her shoulder-length hair, pulled back into an elegant chignon, perfectly framed the sparkle in her eyes. Probably a combination of happiness for April and bliss at the promise of a happily-ever-after ahead for her and Doug.
Next came Lauren with another usher. Her version of the same gown had no straps, and the sashes tied in a bow at the small of her back. For her, the hair stylist had created a chignon out of two French braids, a slight departure from Lyn’s more classic style.
The tuxes looked great on all the guys, the ivory shirts against the black jackets and black ties just the right contrast to the bridesmaid’s gowns and those vivid bouquets. And really, Summer thought as she scanned the men, from Jeff all the way down the line. Nobody cared what they wore anyway.
No guest ever left a wedding with the comment, “Didn’t the groom look fabulous in his tuxedo?”
Except maybe his mother.
For everyone else, today was all about the bride and bridesmaids. The gowns, the flowers, the hairstyles all piqued the crowd’s interest. And the cameras would pick up every subtle color change, every bright and cheery choice she and April had debated the last several months.
And a worldwide audience would feel the love. Weddings were always about the love.
Becky, as maid of honor was the last attendant to walk the runner, hers a solo appearance. Her gown tied halter-style with the sash draped to one side, ending in a rosette on her hip. She wore her hair in a low-side ponytail, a wisp of bangs swept over one eye. The four of them looked different enough to reflect their varied ages and personalities, yet still cohesive enough to be part of the same bridal party.
Once Becky had reached the end of the runner, an expectant hush fell over the crowd. The orchestra, seated behind the guests at the rear of the grounds, broke into a heart-melting instrumental rendition of the old Elvis classic, I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You.
April appeared on the arm of her son, Michael. Unlike with the other males, the tuxedo transformed Michael into an entirely different individual than the awkward teen everyone expected. He stood taller, his expression solemn, gaze fixed straight ahead, almost like a stern father. Yet, the twitch of his lips hinted he struggled to hide his pride at playing such an important part in this ceremony.
As he led April slowly forward, the blazing television lights sparked the beading and crystals on the bodice of her pale pink satin gown. The mid-afternoon sun added an extra glow to her bare shoulders. More of the crystals, appliqued into falling diamonds, embellished the slightly belled ballerina skirt and winked with every step of her rhinestone-studded ivory high-heeled sandals.
She’d eschewed a veil in favor of a simple pink and ivory crystal headpiece of geometric shapes. Her short chestnut hair had been curled with hot rollers, then swept into a sassy updo. She was beautiful, ageless, timeless. The perfect bride with an updated twist.
Her Biedermeier-styled bouquet contained a circle of pink heart-shaped roses, surrounded by a circle of burgundy roses, all interspersed with snowy stephanotis and white cymbidium orchids. Simple, stunning, and the ideal complement to all of the gowns.
Summer stole a glance at Jeff to gauge his reaction at the first sight of his bride. The love shining in his eyes confirmed her belief in happily-ever-after. Warmth infused her, and she sighed with contentment. She’d made this happen for them. At last, she’d done something for April that would atone for all the years she’d stolen her toys, poked fun at her misery, and acted like the supreme Wicked Witch of the West.
“Amazing,” Lyn whispered to her. “Everything is absolutely perfect, Sum. You’re going to have to work hard to top this for Doug and me.”
Summer smiled. “Piece of cake, Lyn,” she whispered back. “I already have some great ideas in mind for you.”
“Well, then, I humbly bow to the expert.”
Oh, no doubt about it. Summer was an expert at controlling other peoples’ lives. She just couldn’t seem to keep her own on track.
♥
CRAIG STARED AT THE television screen—more precisely, at Summer who stood in the crowd on the side of the dance floor. The camera zoomed in on the bride and groom, but Craig’s attention remained riveted to the smaller image of Summer, a smiling face in a throng of smiling faces.
“Summer looks pretty,” his father remarked from the recliner in the corner.
Pretty? Craig stifled a snort of impatience. If ever a word didn’t do a woman justice, pretty for how Summer looked right now reigned supreme. She glowed in gold, brighter than the goddess of the sun. He frowned as he continued to stare at her. Why wasn’t she on the dance floor?
“Don’t you think she looks pretty, Maddie?” Dad continued.
“Uh-huh. Daddy, can I have a dress like Summer’s?”
He didn’t answer, barely heard the question as he stared at Summer, at her smile, the exotic fall of her hair to her bare shoulder, the sparkle in her eyes. So incredibly beautiful. Why was she all alone?
“Earth to Craig!” Dad shouted.
“Huh?” He snapped into reality. “Oh, umm..., I don’t know, sweetheart. Maybe when you’re older, okay?”
“Dad?” Scott asked. “Can I have a monster truck like Big Foot?”
“Yeah, sure, I guess,” he replied absent-mindedly.
Nate snorted. “I’m gonna grab a beer. Anyone want one?”
“No thanks,” Craig said, his eyes straining to catch sight of Summer as the television camera panned the crowd.
All three kids broke into hoots of laughter.
“That does it.” Dad sat up, shoved the footrest closed in the recliner, then stood. “Come on, Craig. Let’s go figure out what’s for dinner.”
Gaze never leaving the screen, he waved off his dad. “I’ll just order in.”
Dad’s hand clamped his shoulder. “No. Summer would have a fit if you fell back on old habits. Especially when we have the time and the ingredients to do better.” His voice hummed low in Craig’s ear. “Get up, son. We need to talk. Alone. Unless you want your kids to hear your old man giving you a lecture about the birds and the bees.”
Craig finally broke the trance of the televised wedding and turned to glare at his father. “I don’t need a lecture, Dad.”
“Yeah, you do. Get up. Now.”
With the resentment of an angsty teen, Craig shot to his feet and clumped his way from the living room to the kitchen. Reaching the sink, he whirled and growled, “What in shinola are you rambling about, Dad? Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something?”
“Oh, you’re in the middle of something, all right.” Dad folded his arms over his chest. “You’re up to your ears in love, son.”
He gripped the counter behind him until his knuckles ached. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. I’m not in love with Summer. She’s an employee.”
Dad’s raucous laughter stiffened Craig’s spine. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Sobering, he shook his head. “You may have gone to that Rainey Day place looking to hire an employee, but you wound up with a woman who fills this whole house with light and laughter. And unlike Chelsea, who wanted the celebrity rather than the substance, Summer sees and appreciates the real you. Thank God.”
Craig scrubbed a hand across his chin. Maureen had said something similar, something about him showing his real self to Summer. So what? He couldn’t exactly hide himself or his kids from the woman hired to take care of all of them.
“Come on, Craig,” Dad continued. “There’s no shame in admitting you’ve got a thing for Summer. Heck, I’d have a thing for her if I were twenty years younger with a stronger heart. You’ve been alone a long time. And you couldn’t fall for a better woman than Summer. She’s beautiful and smart...”
“And just about perfect,” Craig added with a solemn head shake.
“Nobody’s perfect, Craig.”
“Which is why I said she’s just about perfect, Dad.” He pushed away from the counter, ran a hand through his hair. “Wanna know how I know she’s not perfect? She’s still hooked on her ex-husband, that’s why. You should have seen her when we ran into him at the hardware store. Trust me. She’s not interested in a romance with a bum like me.”
Dad shrugged. “Well, okay, I didn’t see her at the hardware store, but I’ve seen her every day since she first got here. And in case you haven’t noticed, which I suspect you haven’t since you obviously spend most of your time coming up with excuses why she’s not interested in a bum like you, Summer’s very much interested in you, too.”
“Bull.”
“Fact. Anyone with decent eyesight can see the way she looks at you, the way you look at her. For God’s sake, I have cataracts and I’m practically blinded from the sparks between you two.” He planted a hand on the countertop. “Ask her out to dinner, share some time with her that has nothing to do with me and the kids. Tell her how you feel. The worst that could happen is she turns you down, and the atmosphere gets a little awkward around here for a while.”
“Great,” he muttered. “Just what I need with Chelsea breathing down my neck.”
“Chelsea’s always breathing down your neck. Don’t let her scare you into sacrificing your happiness. Life’s too short.”