Cancel the Wedding (16 page)

The veil was really beginning to puff out now and with every movement it managed to get bigger. It was hideous. She tried to push it down again and it sprang back up.

She hugged me from behind, silently ending that conversation, and pulled the veil off my head. “We are telling Georgia that we couldn't find her veil. You will have to wear something else because this is the God-awfulest thing I have ever seen. I don't remember it being so big when she wore it. On you it looks like some kind of volcanic ash is erupting from your head.”

I smiled remembering her like that, and I wondered if maybe I had missed her point about the way and the depth that you could need another person.

I pulled myself back to the present and made my way slowly back to the inn, clearing all of the work e-mails and messages off my phone. When I got to the inn I waved to Graham, who was manning his post at the valet stand. He was getting ready for the dinner rush at the inn's restaurant. There would be three, maybe four cars pulling up within the hour. He straightened his collar in preparation and I had to laugh. I sat down in one of the rocking chairs lining the wide porch.

Now that I had decided to stay I needed to deal with the office. I called my team first to tell them I was trying to get a leave of absence for a few weeks. They were supportive, as always. Then I had to do the difficult task of calling my boss to actually get permission.

He was strangely amenable to the idea. In fact, it almost sounded as if he'd been making plans for my departure. When I made a joke about it he said, “Well, I need to see if Jeremy can handle that team while you're gone. Now that you're getting married you'll probably be pregnant any minute and we'll need someone to step up. You women don't always come back once the baby comes.”

I was too shocked to have an appropriate response to that so I just thanked him and hung up. His comment probably violated several different human resources rules, but I was too relieved to have gotten permission for the leave of absence to care about that.

My phone pinged. It was a text from Leo:
Sorry I couldn't talk. Have to have dinner w/J. I'll call you tomorrow. Love you.

I dragged myself back up to our room at the inn, flopped down on my bed, and crossed my arms over my face. I was exhausted. Emotionally and physically.

After a few minutes of blissful, quiet darkness Logan threw a pillow at me. I didn't move, but I said, “What?”

“Are we going to dinner or can we just chill?”

“Oh yes, by all means, let's just chill.” I had a splitting headache and a tiredness that had seeped all the way down to my toes. I kicked my shoes off and stared at the ceiling. I heard a crunching sound and looked over at Logan. “What are you eating?”

“Doritos.”

“Where'd you get them?”

She handed me a tote bag and said, “They're left over from the car ride.”

I dug through the bag and found some Fritos and strawberry Pop-Tarts. I said, “Excellent. We'll have road trip snacks for dinner.”

She was licking her fingers. “Do you want a drink? I could go to the soda machine.”

I thought I needed something stronger than soda. I put my shoes back on. “I'll go. I need to drop the thank-you candle at the front desk for Mrs. Chatham anyway.”

I left the candle and note with the woman at the front desk, then went to the bar to get a drink to go. I got back to the room and opened my dinner of Fritos and Pop-Tarts. That covered corn and fruit. And there were limes in my vodka tonic. A well-rounded meal.

Logan and I sat on her bed while she filled me in on all the drama happening with the rising junior class. It was a nice distraction from the drama happening in my head. A lot of it also sounded annoyingly similar. Great, now I was acting like a teenager in heat.

She seemed to have forgotten all about the boy she had been dating at the end of the school year and was focused solely on Graham. It was so easy to fall in and out of love at her age. I wondered if it were just as easy at my age. Maybe what made it so difficult was just the complexity of extricating yourself from all the trappings of an adult relationship.

“I need another drink.”

Logan said, “No you don't. What's up with you and the vodka?”

I thought,
It's not as fattening as beer and I like it more than wine.
I said, “I'm on vacation and I'm having a cocktail. There's nothing wrong with that.”

“You're burying your dead mom and you're sitting in a hotel room with your niece. It's not like you're on the lido deck.”

I patted her on the back. “Nice. More and more like your mom every day.”

Her phone beeped that she had a text message and I was mercifully ignored. She was busy with her cyberlife so I spent some time tidying up the room. There were clothes scattered all over the place. It was as if Logan selected her outfit by flinging several things into the air and then choosing whatever hit the bed. While I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth, Logan asked, “What are we doing tomorrow?”

I came back in the room and just shrugged my shoulders. I had no idea what we were doing tomorrow. I checked things off on my fingers. “Let's see, drowned town? Check. Burned-out house? Check. Random family graveyard full of people we've never heard of? Check. I guess we could hit the cemetery. I might look at some houses to see if there's something I can rent for a few weeks.”

She rolled her shoulders up to her ears like she used to do when she was little and wanted ice cream. “Would you care if I went out on the lake with Graham? A bunch of his friends are going water-skiing tomorrow and he asked if I could go.” Then she raised her little eyebrows.
Pwease Aunt Lib, pwease can I hab some ice cweam?
I kind of missed her little speech impediment.

I figured Georgia would let her go, so I gave my permission. “Sure. That sounds fun. Of course you can go. Just no drinking, drugs, or sex on the boat. Or off the boat. Or really anywhere.” I couldn't remember all of Georgia's rules, but that probably covered most of the bases.

She was immediately texting on her phone again. “Okay. And no drinking, drugs, or sex for you either tomorrow.”

“You're hilarious.”

The next morning I helped Logan get ready for her day on the boat with Graham and his friends.

When we went downstairs to meet up with Graham I felt the need to act like a parent. I asked who would be on the boat and who was driving it. I made him assure me there would be no alcohol, which horrified Logan. I waved to them as they walked down the sidewalk toward the lake.

I walked to Jimmy's and spent an hour just sitting in a chair staring at the wall. It's amazing how completely still the body can be when the mind is racing. I felt like I had to decide: Do I really stay here for a few weeks researching my mother's life, and incidentally run the risk of seeing Elliott every day? Or do I just sprinkle the goddamn ashes already and go home to my life? Yesterday I had felt so sure, but today I was waffling.

Jimmy eventually came over to refill my coffee mug. “You okay?”

I laughed a little. Was it that obvious? I said, “No, not really.”

“A lot of that going around this week. Anything I can do?”

Some part of me knew this tiny window was precious and I shouldn't waste it. I was in this strange bracket of time between the anniversaries of my mother's death and birth. Right here, right now I had to find out what I could about her. This opportunity wouldn't come again. Before my brain realized that it had made up its mind I said to Jimmy, “Yes, actually. Do you know of any lake houses for rent?”

“The resort section of the marina has rental lake cottages. I think they call them villas.” Jimmy said “villas” in a way that led me to believe he found the name ridiculous.

I didn't want to be anywhere near that marina and run the risk of seeing even more of Emory. I probably needed to stay in town. “I was thinking maybe something closer to the square.”

Jimmy sent me to the real estate office on the next block where I met with an agent and got the list of everything that was open for the next few weeks.

I spent the day looking at property. I drove by all the houses available. I crossed off all of the brown cedar mountain houses. They looked somehow depressing to me. I needed light. I needed open. I wanted a bright open space.

At the fifth house on my list I found what I was looking for. I parked the car on the street in front of the little white house. It was an old lake cottage just one block off the town square.

The front yard was awash with blue hydrangea bushes. It felt like a sign.

I checked the flyer again that the agent had given me. The house was very small with just two bedrooms and one bath. But the galley-style kitchen was newly renovated and the entire rear of the house held a screened-in porch that looked out over the lake.

It was perfect. I signed the rental agreement to lease it for a month starting in a few days.

When Logan got back from water-skiing I drove her by the little cottage. I told her that she was welcome to stay with me if she wanted to. We could race toward the finish line of my mom's birthday together.

She was chewing on her fingernail. “Do you think my parents would let me?”

“I don't know. Couldn't hurt to ask.”

Logan was nodding her head slowly. She looked as if she were already going over her argument and counterargument of why she should be allowed to stay with me. She seemed to have worked it all out. “Hey, a girl that I met today works at the summer camp at the marina. She said they need like three more people to help with the preschool day campers.”

“Are you thinking about applying for a job?”

She shrugged. “It might be cool. It would look good on my transcripts.”

“And you could be here all summer flirting with Graham.”

“Yeah well, I
could
flirt with him all summer because
I
don't have a boyfriend.”

“Be nice to me Lugnut or I'll ground you or something.”

When I called Georgia that night to break it to her that I had actually done it—I had rented a house and would be staying longer—I made Logan talk to her first. I knew that arguing with Logan about staying with me would wear her out. But Logan was so excited about the idea of having a job and spending her summer on the lake that it was hard not to get caught up in her enthusiasm. When she finished describing the toddlers getting dropped off at the dock by their parents in their little life jackets there was nothing Georgia could do but agree to let her stay.

By the time Georgia got to me she was just tired. Another plan perfectly executed.

I couldn't sleep that night, which was becoming a theme lately. I was staring at the ceiling considering the possibility that the floor above me was haunted when I heard my phone ping. I had a text message from Elliott.

My phone rang immediately and I snuck into the bathroom so I wouldn't wake up Logan. “Hi.”

He sighed into the phone and some part of me melted. He said, “Hey. I'm sorry. I just saw the time.”

“Don't worry about it. I was up. How's Atlanta?”

He spit out a laugh. “I'm burning it down again.”

“What? I don't know what you mean.”

“I know. I just wanted to check on you, see how you were doing.”

“I'm good.” I wasn't sure what he was asking me. Maybe he just wanted to know how things were going with my little research project. “I haven't found out anything new since I was with you.”

“Oh.” There was a pause and then he said, “I guess I just wanted to hear your voice, make sure you weren't hightailing it out of town while I wasn't looking.”

I said, “Actually, I think the town is stuck with us for a while.”

“It is?”

“Yes, I rented a lake house today.”

“For how long?”

“A month.”

I could hear the smile in his voice. “And here I thought you didn't like the lake.”

“It's growing on me.”

“I'm so glad to hear it.”

I asked, “When will you be getting back?”

“Tomorrow night. I'm hoping anyway. It might be a bit late, but maybe I can see you when I get to town?”

“I'd like that.”

We sat on the phone in silence for a moment. I was trying to stop myself from saying a whole host of embarrassing things. He sounded tired.

Finally he said, “I'm so glad you decided to stay.”

“Me too. So I'll see you tomorrow?”

“See you then.”

I hung up and went back to bed with absolutely no chance of getting any sleep.

Logan and I started the morning packing our things to get ready to move into the lake house the next day. Well, I packed up our things. Logan went out on the lake again with Graham.

I wandered through the square after lunch and called Leo to tell him I was staying longer. When I told him that I had already rented a house for the month he barked, “Why didn't you consult me before committing to that? Did you sign anything?”

I became instantly defensive. “I've been trying to talk to you since I got here but you've been too busy. Do I need permission from you to stay?”

“Yes!” Then he backed off. “That's not what I mean, Olivia. You said you and Georgia were flying down on Janie's birthday to scatter the ashes. You haven't said one thing about staying there the whole time.”

I said sarcastically, “I sent you an e-mail.”

“You know that's not productive.”

That was something else we learned from our therapist. Sarcasm is not a productive means of communication. “Look Leo, I need to do this. I'm sorry that we didn't get a chance to discuss it before I rented the house.”