Tempting Fate (31 page)

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Authors: Lisa Mondello

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Holidays, #Short Stories & Anthologies, #Anthologies, #Anthologies & Literature Collections, #Short Stories

BOOK: Tempting Fate
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Cara plopped her hands down on the bed sheets. “Great. You planned my birthday party for a day the Yankees are playing the Sox? Is Daddy even going to be here tonight?”

“Of course, I had Larry lend him a watchman. Even if his mind is on the game, he’ll be with us in body. Besides, I didn’t know about the game when I planned the party. It’s not like your father gives me a rundown of their schedule.”

Ruthie took both of Cara’s hands and began tugging her. “If you don’t go down to try on a gown, your father will get suspicious. Remember, he thinks this wedding is for you.”

Cara had to laugh. For once it seemed that her mother was working her antics on someone other than her. She had to admit that she’d expected things to be a lot worse on this vacation than they had been so far.

On the other hand, Devin went home with Penny Brunelle last night. The last thing she wanted to do was get pinned in a dress and listen to every detail of Penny’s evening with Devin.

“You’re supposed to be my maid of honor. I want everything to be perfect.”

Cara chest squeezed at that. It was truly romantic that her parents were renewing their wedding vows after all these years together. Having her brother perform the ceremony made it all the more special. The least she could do was to rise to the occasion and help her mother with the details.

“I'm not being a very good maid of honor, am I?” Cara said with regret.

Ruthie smiled and gave her a hug. “I couldn't ask for a more perfect person for the job. Now let's get dressed so we're not late.”

To Cara’s dismay, when they arrived at the shop it was empty except for Penny. That meant they had Penny’s undivided attention. They’d spent the better part of an hour sifting through gowns on the racks before they headed into a large back dressing room with an armful of dresses to try on.

She was happy when her mother took the lead in keeping the conversation going with Penny. Ruthie went into her usual monologue of wanting grandchildren and how she’d never have that particular pleasure in life if she left it up to Cara. Normally, Cara would have been annoyed and fired back with some quick retort about how she was a grown woman who didn’t need a man to take out of garbage or add a can of oil to the car.

But she took the small blessing that Ruthie was keeping Penny occupied for the moment. Cara didn’t have to hear any details of the previous evening.

The first two dresses Cara tried on were awful. They belonged back on the rack. She stood in front of the full length mirror holding the third dress to her chest and stared at her reflection. The dress was beautiful and she immediately fell in love with it.

She slipped into the dress and stood with her back to her mother. “Button me, will you?”

Ruthie gasped. “Oh, I think this is the one.”

When her mother was through, Cara climbed up on the podium, and looked at her reflection. The pale peach gown had a jewel-neckline and delicate lace covering the form-fitting bodice.

Her mother held her hands to her chest, tears glistened in her eyes. “You look simply beautiful, darling.”

Cara couldn't help but feel giddy. The dress looked almost magical on her, as if it was made just for her and her alone. “I can’t wear this one.”

Ruthie wilted. “Why not? You don’t like it?”

“Perhaps you’d like something more formal. Because of the tea-length style, a lot of women choose this type of dress for second time around weddings. But it could certainly be worn for a first wedding.”

Cara stifled a retort, wondering what Penny was going to wear for her fourth time around.

She spun on the podium in her bare feet and watched as the chiffon skirt lift with the motion. The peach color was a nice contrast to her tanned skin and dark hair and eyes.

Penny smiled with businesslike satisfaction married with her uncanny charm. “It truly is a beautiful wedding dress.”

Ruthie coughed.

“Yes, it would be perfect for a simply wedding, except I’m not the one who’s getting married. Didn’t you tell her what was really going on, Ma?”

“I, ah, yes,” Ruthie stammered.

“This is a beautiful dress. But I think it’s a bit too showy for a maid of honor.”

Cara stepped down from the podium and took her mother’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“It's supposed to be your day. All eyes should be on you, Ma, not me.”

“Thank you, dear. But I really do think this is the one. Don’t you, Penny?”

“Simply beautiful. Devin will think so, too, I’m sure.”

Cara crinkled her eyebrows. “Devin? What does Devin have to do with all this?”

“I thought Devin was the-” Penny began to say before Ruthie cut in.

“Devin is going to be the best man,” Ruthie blurted out.

Turning to her mother, Cara felt suspicion raking up her spine. “Why Devin? Why didn't you ask one of Daddy’s friends?”

“I can’t risk your father finding out until the morning of the ceremony. By then it will be too late for him to back out. He'll have already spent his money. I simply can’t risk it.”

“I’m not sure that Devin will still be in town on Labor Day.”

Knowing how her mother's mind worked, a thought occurred to her. “Why didn't you ask Roger?”

Ruthie’s lips thinned. “I had no way of knowing if he’d be able to attend.”

Cara’s mouth flew open, and she forgot they weren’t alone. “Ma, didn’t you think I’d be taking him?”

Ruthie huffed. “What am I supposed to think? You've been living under the same roof for a week and you hardly see each other. What does that say?”

A chasm in her mind widened, revealing a glimpse of what her mother was up to a bit more clearly.

“Did you tell Daddy that I was marrying Devin?”

Ruthie lowered her gaze. “I doubt your father would have given his blessing otherwise. You know how fond he's always been of Devin,” she said, as if that made perfect sense for her behavior.

“Doesn't he find it a bit odd for me to have one man living under our roof and marrying another?”

“The conversation didn't even get that far. You father is just happy to have you married, at this point. You know this time of year that if it isn't connected to baseball, chances are your father isn't paying attention anyway.”

Cara stood straight as a board, her fists balled by her side like a two year old about to have a tantrum. She couldn't believe her ears.

“So you just invited Devin and set up this story. First the Omar booties and now you’re picking out my husband? You’re incredible!”

“You have to admit Devin is a far better choice than Roger. One day you’ll see that I’m right and you’ll be as happy with Devin as I am with your father.” Ruthie tossed her frosted hair back and forth to make her point.

“What are you talking about? I don’t have to admit any such thing. I've chosen to be with Roger. You're just going to have to accept that.”

Cara gripped the skirt of her dress and stormed into a private dressing room to escape her fury. Much to her amazement, it followed her, and in her two by two stall, she began to wonder just what she was so angry about. She was used to her mother’s antics. This latest classic Ruthie trick shouldn't surprise her.

So why was she so angry? Her mother had never hidden the fact that she wanted Cara to marry and give her grandchildren. But it never seemed like a possibility with Roger. She'd always known Roger liked things just the way they were, simple, uncluttered. Safe. Family was something he'd always deemed clutter, which was mainly the reason she never approached him about her sudden change of heart regarding children and family.

She carefully placed the delicate dress back on a hanger and opened the drapes to the dressing room. Only then did she realize that the rest of her clothes were in the larger, open dressing room with full length mirrors. Being humble in your underwear was hard, but at least she was only with her mother. She only hoped cat suit Penny was long gone and on to other things by now.

* * *

Devin tried his best to keep the shock from creeping into his tone, but the look on Cara’s face was truly hilarious and he just had to laugh. It was a deep belly laugh that did wonders to lift his mood. “Who’s getting married?”

“This isn’t funny, Dev. She’s doing it to me, again.”

Cara plopped down on the back stairs of Devin’s cottage and rested her elbows on her knees.

“I’m almost thirty-five years old and she still treats me like I’m a teenager.”

He coughed the rest of his laughter out of his system before joining Cara on the stairs. Trying his best to keep from laughing at the absurdity of the situation, he began in a more serious tone, “Maybe that’s because you still treat her like your mother.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, and she looked at him like he had five heads. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? She is my mother!”

“Yeah, and you’re still knocking heads with her just to goad her.” He shrugged. “Why don’t you see it from her point of view?”

Her face registered mock panic. “You're nuts if you are seriously starting to see the crazy logic in her thinking.”

He chuckled. “I've been thinking that a lot about myself lately.”

She shot him a questioning look, but he waved it off as usual. He didn’t want to think any more of how he'd found the deeper he dug into the Palmer case, the more he found that it was botched to high heaven. He’d think about it when and if he decided to take the case to appeal.

“Mom hates Roger. Roger hates her.” She threw her hands up in frustration. “I don't know why I bother trying.”

He waited a fraction of a second before responding. “I'll tell you why. Because you know she hates him.”

Cara gave him a long sideward glance, but remained silent.

“Forgive me for saying it like this, but from what I've seen, you and Roger don't exactly seem like the ideal couple. No matter how ideal you say he is. What do you even see in him?”

“Roger is a-”

He waved his hand. “I know, I know, he’s a fine man. You told me all that. Ruthie told me all that. But what else? Does he make you laugh? Does he feed your soul? Does he take care of your heart?”

A flash of pain crossed Cara’s face with his last remark. Just enough for him to read her true emotion.
Bingo.
She wasn’t in love with Roger. And maybe she'd never been. His mood was lifting higher and higher by the moment.

She turned away, hiding her pained expression from him. “Maybe you've kept him in your life just to bug your mother?”

She twisted around to face him straight on. The fire in her eyes blazed. “I can’t believe you’re saying this to me? You think I'm with Roger just to get Mother Ruthie upset? Don’t you think I’m capable of choosing my own companions?”

The fire in her was strong, but she wasn’t angry, he noticed. She was merely hurt by his inference that Roger was a safe bet to drive her mother crazy.

His voice softened, and he took her hand in his. It was silky soft against his palm and the contact immediately took on an intimate feel. He looked at her cinnamon eyes and felt he could see straight through to the center of her being. It amazed him that they could be so close and yet so distant at the same time.

Their eyes locked and he wondered how he could ever tear himself away from her gaze. He didn’t want to. He wanted to sit there and look at her, drown in the depths of her soft brown eyes.

Things had changed between them. Not just in those few short moments when he felt like this connection between the two of them was welded together. That was their friendship. But these new feelings were different. Like last night when she looked up at him while they were riding the carousel. In his mind, he knew this was the same Cara he'd known seventeen years ago. And yet, his feelings for her had changed. They'd grown deeper than he'd ever thought he was possible. They had an intrinsic connection that time had never been able to break.

Yet, something was wedged between them. Or rather someone.

Devin drew in a deep breath and brushed his thumb across Cara's fingers. These feelings were more than just friendship. There was no doubt in his mind about that now. It was only when he started to speak that he realized his breath was caught in his throat.

“I hate to see you settling for something for the wrong reasons, giving up your dreams,” he said softly. “You deserve better than that.”

Cara finally pulled her hand away, breaking the connection. Although the mid-day sun beat down hard on them, he suddenly felt cold.

Lifting herself up from the steps, Cara exhaled loudly. She walked a few steps down toward the picket fence and stared out at the ocean before swinging back to look at him.

“In Boston, everything made sense. I come down here for a few weeks and it seems my whole life is turned upside down.”

“It happens. No one is immune. You just have to work through it.”

He picked a splintered piece of wood off the stair tread, snapped it and tossed the two pieces to the sand. He’d spent these past few sleepless nights thinking about more than the Palmer case. He was thinking about re-writing his future. And every time he looked beyond leaving Cara, he didn’t like it. Not one bit. That said more than any court transcript ever could.

She buried her head in her hands and chuckled wryly. “Every time I turn around I’m coming to you with something, Dev. You don’t need to listen to all this crap on your vacation.”

“You know you can always come to me.”

“I think I've always known that,” she said softly. Cara glanced at her watch and then rubbed it nervously. “I guess I should be getting back.”

Devin heaved a sigh. “Getting ready for the big birthday party?”

She smiled and when she did, he couldn’t help but smile, too. Her smile quickly vanished. “You’re definitely coming to the party, right? I can only imagine what other surprises my mother has in store for me. Get a little champagne in Mom and she's liable to insist we get married on the spot with Roger as best man! I need you there tonight to make things bearable.”

The past few days Devin had come to realize there was a lot he needed in his life, too. Most importantly, he needed the fanciful laughter of his best friend Cara.

“I’ve got to run, too,” he said, pushing himself off the stairs. “I’ve got to go pick up Bruno at the Vet.”

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