Stand-In Groom (21 page)

He let her make the decisions on what columns, greenery, linens, tables, and chairs to rent. The only thing he ordered was the gold flatware and table service, per Courtney’s request. Anne laughed and chatted with the proprietor, a friend of hers from childhood, as
she completed the paperwork and George paid with the expense-account credit card.

Headed back toward her car, Anne’s stomach growled. “Where do you want to go for lunch?”

“I…” He had to get away. Distance. He needed distance to guard his heart. In one week, she might decide she never wanted to see him again. “I can’t. I’m interviewing for several house staff positions this afternoon and need to get back.” The interviews didn’t start for another three hours but made a convenient excuse.

“Oh. How about brunch on Friday? It’s the Fourth of July, and I’m officially taking the day as a holiday…except for the wedding I have to set up at noon.” She unlocked the car doors with the remote on her key chain. “Then later you can join us for our family Fourth of July celebration.”

He slipped into the passenger seat. How could he say no to her when she caressed his face with her azure gaze? “I’ll check my schedule and get back with you.”

8

For the next three days, George vacillated between his desire to spend time with Anne and his fear of ending up with a broken heart. The only person he could talk to about it was Henry, and his brother had been no help whatsoever.

“Just tell her the whole tale and have done with it,” he’d said. “Honor be hanged.”

George couldn’t let go that easily. He’d given his word and signed a contract. He couldn’t go back on that. But he agonized over the thought of spending time with Anne, because he wanted to lay before her the whole of his situation, especially the part about Cliff, so he could learn her true feelings.

The days dragged. Thursday, as he had every day that week, he went into the study on the main floor to work on the travel arrangements for Cliff and Courtney’s party guests. Most had their own personal assistants, but he had a lot of information to convey to
get the two hundred guests from all over the world into Bonneterre, Louisiana. He’d started a spreadsheet to track the RSVPs and now used it to enter travel itineraries.

The data swam on the computer screen, and after mangling three entries, he gave up and turned the leather executive chair around to stare out the picture window. The gray clouds and pelting rain matched his mood.

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t face her. He picked up the phone and dialed Forbes’s private number. The line didn’t ring but went straight to voice mail, thank heavens. Forbes would ask too many questions.

“Forbes, George Laurence here. I’m calling to let you know I won’t be attending dinner tonight. Something has arisen that I must handle. Please make my apologies to…everyone.” He ended the call and let the cordless receiver drop into his lap.

The rhythm of the rain lulled him into a semiconscious state. He imagined every possible scenario of how Anne would react. She might be absolutely nonplussed at the revelation. She could be angry enough to break the contract.

“Baby, are you all right?”

George started when he realized Mama Ketty stood over him.

“I’m sorry, but you didn’t answer when I knocked on the door.” She clucked her tongue. “You’re too young to be bearing such a heavy weight. Tell Mama Ketty all about it.” She settled into one of the chairs across the desk.

He blinked. She didn’t budge. Words tumbled out of his mouth—he couldn’t stop them. He told her everything, including his fear that Anne might never want to see him again.

She sat very still when his verbal torrent ceased, her dark face not revealing any hint of her thoughts. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, warmth flooded him. Her soft voice drowned out the storm outside. “ ‘For thus the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel, has said, “In repentance and rest you will be saved, in quietness and trust is your strength.” ’ I’m thinking Isaiah
knew what he was talking about when he wrote that. Until you find peace with God, you ain’t gonna have happiness with yourself nor no one else around you.” She stood and smoothed her floral dress over her ample figure. “Now come into the kitchen and have some of my snickerdoodles.”

Who did she think she was coming in here and telling him—exactly what he needed to hear? The words had been given to her by God, and they convicted him to the core of his soul. He had to heal his own scars before he could give his heart to someone else. He picked up the phone and dialed Anne’s cell number. Until he figured his life out, he needed to keep her at arm’s length. She didn’t answer. He left a message canceling their brunch date tomorrow. He would go to her family’s Independence Day celebration in the park. She wouldn’t be there until late, and they’d be buffered by the number of people surrounding them.

The aroma of cinnamon and baked goods rolled over him. He inhaled deeply. How had he not noticed before? He rose and followed the amazing smells downstairs.

Mama Ketty bustled about the kitchen. “You just set down at that bar and don’t move a twitch. Mama Ketty’s gonna put some meat on them bones if it’s the last thing I do.” She placed a plate of cookies and an enormous glass of milk in front of him. “I know you haven’t been eating any of my cooking. How long’s it been since you ate proper?”

When was the last time he’d had a decent meal? Sunday afternoon at Anne’s aunt and uncle’s home. “Awhile.”

She clucked at him again. “Uh-huh. I suspected as much. Sit tight, and you’ll have a meal that’ll stick to your ribs.”

Contentment settled into him along with the milk and cinnamon-dusted cookies while he watched her work. “Mama Ketty, do you believe that everything happens for a reason?”

“Baby, I believe that nothing happens without God knowing about it. And when things do happen, if we turn toward Him, He’ll make the best of the situation, be it good or bad.” She set a plate
in front of him. “This here’s a good Louisiana-raised, sugar-cured ham steak, fresh corn on the cob, purple-hulled peas from my son’s garden, tomatoes from there, too.” She turned back to the stove and lifted a small pan. She glopped something akin to porridge onto the plate. “Those are the finest grits in all of Louisiana. They’ll stick with you, too. No one leaves Mama Ketty’s table hungering after they’ve had some of my grits.”

George had heard of the Southern delicacy but hadn’t really thought he’d ever have to eat them. With Mama Ketty’s hawklike gaze on him, though, he didn’t dare leave a morsel of food on the white ceramic plate.

Seasoned with butter, salt, and pepper, the grits melted in his mouth. She’d salted the tomatoes to bring out their full flavor, and butter dripped down his fingers as he bit into the crisp, sweet corn. The ham steak was among the best meat he’d ever put in his mouth.

She took the plate as soon as he laid down his fork. “Now you get on out of here and let me get back to work.” She shoved a small plate of cookies into his hands when he stood. “And take these with you. You children these days, wanting to be skin and bones.” She shook her head and mumbled to herself.

He carried the cookies back up to the office to start over on the spreadsheet. His position as head of the household staff had just become an empty title.

Instead of getting straight to work, he opened the Bible program on the computer and searched for the verse Ketty had quoted. Isaiah 30:15. “In repentance and rest you will be saved, in quietness and trust is your strength.” He printed the verse, cut it out, and taped it to the bottom of the monitor.

“
In quietness and trust is your strength
.”

“Father, help me to be quiet and trust You for strength. You know I’m going to need it.”

G
eorge is acting weird.” Anne tipped her wide-brimmed hat forward to better shield her face from the midmorning sun. She couldn’t show up at the church with a sunburned nose.

“Hmm?” Meredith’s distracted voice came from behind a biography of Claude Monet.

“I said George is acting weird.”

Meredith slipped a bookmark in to keep her place and scooped her strawberry blond hair over her shoulder. “Define
weird
.”

“Ever since he came to lunch last Sunday, he’s been…acting funny—not like himself, like I’ve said or done something that offended him and he doesn’t know how to tell me.” Once again, she went over everything that had been said and done at Maggie and Errol’s Sunday afternoon, trying to figure out what might have upset him.

“Have you asked him about it?”

“I haven’t had a chance. He’s been avoiding me all week.” Something tickled her ankle, and she jerked her foot out of the inflatable kiddie pool. A leaf from the ancient oak tree overhead careened away on the wake caused by her movement. She put her foot back in the tepid water. As long as it wasn’t a bug.

“Maybe he’s just been busy with getting ready for his boss coming into town for the engagement party next week.” Mere fanned herself with her straw hat. “Jenn better get back soon with that ice.
It’s gotta be nearly a hundred degrees out here. But at least it’s not raining like last year.”

“He didn’t come to Thursday dinner last night and canceled brunch with me today.”

“Do you think maybe someone said something to him when you weren’t around Sunday? Something that scared him off?”

“Are you kidding me? With as much as the whole family wants to see me married?” Anne paused. “Maybe
that’s
what frightened him. Maybe they tried to pressure him into making a commitment.”

“Or he could’ve overheard you telling Marci about Cliff, and he’s scared he can’t compete with a movie star.”

“Bite your tongue!” Anne splashed water toward Meredith with her foot. “I can’t stand Cliff Ballantine. He’s nothing compared to George. He’s nowhere near as kind, considerate, funny, caring, compassionate, generous—”

“Okay, okay,” Meredith splashed back. “I get the picture. Sheesh. All George needs is a dragon to slay to ensure his sainthood.”

Anne smiled, but it faded quickly. “I hate Cliff Ballantine. If it weren’t for him, I never would have dropped out of school. I’d be Dr. Anne Hawthorne now, teaching English at some fantastic, quaint little four-year college, redbrick buildings covered with ivy….”

“Yeah…” Meredith’s voice had the same dreamy quality Anne’s had taken on. “Instead, you have your own business, you’re a leader in the community, you love what you do.” She leaned across the low table between them and poked Anne’s arm. “ ‘God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love Him.’ God has blessed you, Annie.”

“Did someone send for ice?”

An avalanche cascaded over their shoulders and into the shallow water.

Meredith yelped and yanked her feet out of the pool. Anne laughed and kicked hers to mix the ice in with the warm water.

“That was a twenty-pound bag.” Jenn flopped into the third chair, breathless. “And the only one Bordelon’s Grocery had left.
I’ll take the coolers out to the restaurant and fill them from the ice machine there for tonight.” She kicked off her sandals and dunked her feet into the cooling water. “You know, if our landlady would get the real swimming pool fixed, we could be floating around on inflatables instead of sitting around a wader like three rednecks.”

“I told you before that there’s no way I could get someone out here on the Fourth of July.” Anne scooped up a few ice chips and tossed them in Jenn’s direction. “Besides, I wouldn’t be able to do more than this even if we could use the pool.”

“What time do you have to be at the church?” Meredith tested the water with her toes, then slipped her feet in with a sigh.

“I have to be there at noon to get the setup started, then I’ll run out to the park to meet the caterer and get them situated. I’ll be running back and forth all afternoon.” She glanced at her watch. She needed to leave in half an hour. “I’m so glad Jason agreed to help out. He’s a natural, but he insists on staying a cop instead of joining me as my assistant.”

Meredith laughed. “You know him. He wants to be chief of police someday so that if Forbes ever gets elected mayor, the two of them can work together to make all the changes they think this city needs.”

“You have so much work, you need to hire a full-time assistant, not just temporary part-timers.” Jenn dug a piece of ice out of her glass of tea and rubbed it across the base of her neck.

Anne sipped her tea and resumed fanning herself with her book. “I’ve been thinking about that. I’ve got George’s wedding in October—”

“His employer’s, you mean.” Meredith winked and flashed a grin.

She shrugged. “Same difference. Between now and then, I have a wedding, engagement party, or other event every weekend but two. Then the mayor’s wife called me about planning the fall debutante cotillion in September. That’s on top of a couple of reelection events for her husband’s mayoral campaign and the Lou WESA conference
Labor Day week in Baton Rouge.”

“Louisa conference?” Jenn asked.

“Louisiana Wedding and Event Specialists Association. That’s the week before the cotillion.”

“Speaking of debutantes,” Jenn said as she crunched ice from her tea, mouth open the way that made Anne’s skin crawl. “You’ll never guess who I ran into at the grocery store.”

Anne didn’t bother guessing—Jenn would tell them anyway.

“Patsy Sue Landry.” Jenn drawled out the name, imitating the middle-aged Southern belle. “She remembered me from when I used to babysit her younger girls after you started college, Anne. She asked about you.”

Anne cringed. She hoped the woman wasn’t going to call her again. She didn’t know if she could avoid the woman’s questions without lying to her about George and the plans for Courtney’s wedding.

“She said she’s leaving for the Riviera next week and will be gone four or five weeks.”

“Thank goodness.”

“While we were chatting, I saw on one of the local rags on the magazine stand that Cliff Ballantine might be coming to town next week. Something with his fraternity, they figure.”

Anne snorted. “I’ll make sure to be on the lookout so I can avoid him, then.”