Chris woke to the smell of something wonderful. She and Ron had eventually moved out to the living room, and despite having drunk half a pot of coffee while they talked, she must have fallen asleep on the couch at some point. Ron was nowhere to be seen. The light filling the room suggested it was late morning.
She got up and stretched and then followed her nose to the kitchen, where she found Derek filling his mug from a fresh pot of coffee. “Morning, sunshine.” He handed her the mug and retrieved another from the cupboard.
“A hot guy in my kitchen handing me coffee when I walk in. I think I could get used to this.” She leaned in and met him halfway for a lingering kiss.
“And I could definitely get used to a little sugar with my morning coffee,” he said with a wink once they broke apart.
“What’s that smell?” She thought she smelled blueberries but didn’t see any evidence of pancake making. As if to answer her question, the timer on the oven beeped. Without a word, Derek grabbed a pot holder off the hook next to the stove and opened the oven door, intensifying the heavenly smell. He pulled out a muffin tin and set it on the stove with a flourish.
Chris actually clasped her hands in front of her heart with joy. “You made blueberry muffins!”
“Don’t be too impressed. I scrounged through your cabinets and found a mix. It was more than a year past its best-by date.” He eyed the golden muffin tops. “Looks like they turned out okay.”
Chris fetched two plates from the cupboard and held one out eagerly as Derek pried a muffin out for her with a fork. She carefully plucked a piping hot piece from the side and nibbled on it. “Mmmm. See, this is why I think best-by dates are only suggestions.”
“That may be, but sometimes when you ignore those ‘suggestions,’ you’re taking your life in your hands.” He bit into a muffin and seemed to consider it. “Not bad, I’ll admit. But I think I should clean out your pantry while I’m here. From what I saw, at least half your stuff is out of date.”
“If that means more baking mixes get made, then I’m all for that plan.”
He grinned. “That could probably be arranged.”
He started to lean in for another kiss but straightened back up at an exclamation of “Ooh, muffins!” from the kitchen entryway. Marsha, already dressed in her version of casual that involved designer jeans and a sequined tee-shirt, came over and reached between them to pluck a muffin out of the tin. Chris handed her the plate that Derek hadn’t bothered to use. “Thanks,” she said with a cheerful grin and looked around the kitchen. “Oh, there’s coffee, too. Thank God.”
“Help yourself,” Chris said around another bite of her muffin. She pointed. “The mugs are in that cabinet.”
“Great! Is there cream?”
“There’s one percent milk in the fridge.”
“Okay. And I don’t suppose you keep any stevia?”
“No, but there’s sugar in that little canister next to the coffee maker. Spoons are there in the drawer.”
She grinned brightly, undaunted by the lack of her preferred coffee fixings. Clearly, the non-perky Marsha whom Chris had witnessed the night before had been put back in her box. Too bad. Chris was kind of getting to like that version. She seemed much more real.
“How did you sleep?” Derek asked while she made her coffee.
“Oh, you know. Nothing woke me up to terrorize me, so that was an improvement.”
“You look like you’re feeling better,” said Chris.
“Much.” She came back over to them, stirring her coffee. “Thank you again for letting me stay here. You’re such a lifesaver.”
“Don’t worry about it. I think you should plan to stay here until we get this thing figured out. Speaking of which, we really need to get in touch with your grandmother today.”
“I already left her a message. Several, actually. But if she’s on the road, who knows when she’ll get them.”
“There’s no one else you could call who might know anything? An aunt or uncle?”
She shook her head and sipped her coffee. She failed to hide the little grimace at not having it exactly how she liked it, but she covered it quickly. “My father and grandmother were both only children. I already called my dad. He said he never saw the white lady for himself, only heard stories growing up.”
“Well, the sooner we can find out who she is, the sooner we can find the key to helping her move on.”
“You think she’s the one doing all of this?”
“No, I don’t think she’s the one who’s terrorizing you. But if you want to get married there, we’ll need to deal with her, too.”
“Why?”
“Let’s say it wouldn’t be good if she decided to manifest during the wedding.”
“Oh. Okay. Whatever you think is best.” She stirred her coffee thoughtfully. “Speaking of the wedding, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”
Here it comes, thought Chris. So much for dodging that bullet.
Marsha glanced at Derek, who seemed to take the hint. “I should get going. I need to run home and grab a few things. Anyone need anything while I’m out?”
“Oh! If it’s not too much trouble, would you mind picking me up a box of stevia packets and some half-and-half?” Marsha glanced guiltily at Chris, as though worried she’d be offended.
“No trouble at all,” he told her. “While I’m at it I’ll pick up some fresh groceries.” He winked at Chris, then leaned over to peck her on the cheek before grabbing another muffin to eat on the go. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”
“Don’t think that’s gonna happen,” she said.
Once he was gone, Marsha set down her coffee. Chris braced herself for the question she knew was coming.
“I know you don’t like me,” said Marsha.
Chris opened her mouth to say yes and then blinked as Marsha’s actual words sunk in. “What?”
“I know I come across as a ditz sometimes, but I’m not stupid.”
Chris struggled for something to say but found herself speechless. Marsha pressed on.
“I know I’m a lot younger than your father. Too young to be any kind of mother figure to you. And I know that you and your dad are close. I promise, Christine, you have no reason to be threatened by me. I have no intentions of coming between you and your father.”
“Marsha, I’m not—”
“And I know that my personality can come on a little strong—”
“It didn’t last night.”
It was her turn to blink and ask, “What?”
“Last night, when we came to get you. You seemed… I don’t know. You were different. I mean, I know you were upset, but…” Chris gave a half shrug. “You were kind of cool.”
“Last night I was not cool.”
“I don’t mean—it’s only that you seemed more real. Not so affected.”
She folded her arms and lifted her chin. “You think I’m affected?”
“I think, if I’m being honest, that you come across sometimes like you’re trying to fit some kind of image. An image that’s not really you. I kind of think that the Marsha I saw last night… maybe that was closer to the real you.”
“It wasn’t.” Her voice was sharp. She looked down at the floor a moment and took a deep breath before meeting Chris’s gaze. “Look, I want you to know that I love your father, desperately. There’s nothing affected about the way I feel. And as much as I would love it if you and I could see our way to being friends, I can see that that probably won’t happen. But do you think you could at least tolerate me? For his sake?”
“Marsha…” Chris faltered, words once again failing her. She felt awful that she’d been so obvious about her dislike of the woman. But she’d honestly believed that Marsha was too self-absorbed to notice. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry I made you feel awful, and that I made it seem like we could never be friends. I would love to be your friend.”
Marsha looked skeptical. “You don’t have to pretend to be nice.”
“I’m not pretending. I couldn’t be more sincere.” At the moment, she really was. She hoped she wouldn’t regret this decision once the guilt wore off.
Marsha’s posture softened a little, and hope filled her eyes. “Really?”
“Really. And I promise I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you and Dad get the wedding you want.”
“Do you mean it?”
“Absolutely.”
She grinned. “Oh, Chris, I’m so glad you feel that way. I can’t tell you how relieved I am.”
“Well, I’m sorry for whatever I did to make you doubt it.”
“In that case, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask, but I haven’t been sure if I should.”
“Dad already mentioned that you were hoping I’d be your maid of honor.”
She threw up her hands in exasperation. “That Drew. Sometimes he’s unbelievable. Well? What do you say?”
Chris smiled. “I’d be honored.”
She squealed and threw her arms around Chris. This time, Chris returned the hug.
“Oh, you’ve made me so happy!” Marsha said as she released her. “Tell you what. I know you have things to do, but maybe tonight we can have some wine and look at my Pinterest board together. I’ve pinned some of the most amazing bridesmaid dresses, and I’d love to get your input.”
Chris grinned, focusing on the fact that there was wine involved in this proposition. “Sounds great!”
“Yay!” She jumped up and down a little and then hugged Chris again. “Thank you so much!”
“That’s what friends are for, right?”
When Marsha released her, she seemed a little more subdued but no less happy. “Right,” she said. “I’ll get out of your hair and let you get on with your day. I’ll go try my grandma again.”
“Great. Let me know if you get a hold of her.”
“Will do.” She picked up her coffee and uneaten muffin and headed out of the kitchen. Chris grabbed another muffin and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully as she watched Marsha go, torn between being glad she’d made her future step-mother happy and hoping she hadn’t made a terrible mistake.