Page 18 of Love and Other Trials
Could she believe that? Historical evidence suggested otherwise. “That’s sweet, but I got a ride.”
They bussed cheeks, because no one messed up a woman’s carefully applied makeup.
“I also would have offered to let you stay in my cottage until your aunt Gail arrived.”
Like hell she would. Another intensemotherlook had Ariel wanting to shift on her feet because sheknewthat tone. “It was late, and Dax offered since he had a spare room.”
“So I heard.”
Doom and gloom organ music started to play in her head. Sherlock plopped down at her feet, knowing they weren’t going anywhere.
She felt her mother’s slender hand finger the ends of her short hair, her diamonds flashing in the sunlight from the ring she’d kept from Ariel’s father. Because a woman could never have too many diamonds… “Your sisters said you’d cut your hair last minute. Between staying with the best man and this change, that’s pretty wild for you.”
Ariel wished she could laugh that one off, but she knew what was coming…
Their eyes met, her mother’s familiar floral perfume wafting over her. The familiar feeling of never measuring up started to rise within her. She never felt good enough when her mother looked at her that way. Like she was assessing all the reasons Ariel didn’t pass muster.
Because no one could say Stormy Deverell didn’t pass muster. She had exotic green eyes, a full mouth, and cheekbones a swimmer could dive off. She still turned heads, so far without plastic surgery, she liked to joke, and every time Ariel looked at her, she wondered how this woman could be her mother.
They were as alike as South Carolina peanuts and California cabernet—and she was the peanut.
“Mom, I didn’t have a choice about the hair.” She was going to have to give some excuse or their complaining would never cease. “Something happened on the disaster site.”
“Don’t tell me any more.” Her mother fingered her hair one last time before touching Ariel’s waist, measuring it like usual. “You know I don’t like to hear about the danger you put yourself in. But at least it keeps your weight in check.”
The choking feeling was starting in her throat.
“Your risk-taking must be some Deverell trait that Grandma never knew about.” She worried her perfectly painted mouth in an evening nude pink. “Pirates possibly. Charleston was infested with them at one time. You certainly didn’t get it from your father’s side. But we’ll make do. You’ll wear a wig. I asked around for recommendations and one name stood out. I already called for you. The wigmaker is expecting you today at two.”
She held out a piece of paper with the name handwritten on it in bold print. Ariel suddenly wished lightning would strike her. “Mother, I’m not wearing a wig.”
“Ariel—”The clipped tone would make a puppy tremble and pee himself. “Wedding photos are the most important photos a woman ever takes alongside baby photos. They line the walls of your home. They go in your wallet. They grace your first Christmas card. They impress your friends and family. How could you not want to make your sister’s wedding photos special? This is her second chance at love. With a good man. A naval pilot! Didn’t you ever seeAn Officer and a Gentleman? Well, I did, and if you think of Rob as Richard Gere, you’d understand why I’ve been behind this relationship since Tiffany first told me about him. As for you, youwillwear the wig. In fact, you should be thanking me for finding an easier, faster solution. Extensions would take hours.”
Hours! “But my hair is fine at it is?—”
“No, it’s too short. It makes your hair appear even thinner than it already is. Besides, it accentuates the narrow thrust of your chin in an unpleasant way. We need to soften the angles to make you look pretty.”
Okay, that one hurt. Ariel knew she wasn’t as much of a beauty as her mother and sisters, but she thought she looked pretty good usually. Like a pixie. Or a fairy. Not that her mother or sisters ever thought that. They were always trying to make her prettier. Fake eyelashes at Christmas. Brow tinting for her birthday. Even a bottle of castor oil to make her thin brows fuller.
Stuff she threw away with knots in her stomach.
“All the girls in our family need to have long hair in the photos to work with the family appearance and the bridesmaids’ dresses. Your neck is too long without hair covering it up.”
She clutched her neck as the urge to defend herself rose up. “No, I’m?—”
“Stop this, honey.” Her tone was as hard as her eyes, but then she laid a tender hand on her forearm as if she could soften the blow. “I know what’s best for you. You’re being selfish.”
Selfish.
She clenched her hands into fists at her sides. Selfish was the word the women in her family threw around when they wanted to get their way. Make you feel so bad you caved.Theywere never selfish, of course. She could feel herself getting riled up as she tried to figure out what to do. Arguing would only lead to more bullying and shaming, and she would lose. Her mother prided herself on winning every argument.
If she agreed, she would be expected to wear the damn wig. Which she was completely opposed to. First, she didn’t want to. Plus, a fake hairpiece would itch and make her look like an idiot.
What to do? Maybe it could disappear. Too bad she loved Sherlock too much to lie about him. She could have told the tall tale that he’d thought it was an animal and dragged it off and buried it. Except wait! Uncle Johnny was bringing his beagle. She hated to do it, but she could blame him. God, she was a terrible person, but desperate times…
She took the paper from her mother’s hand, telling herself she had a plan. “Dax and I are heading out to start our errands. We need to get going.”
Her mother’s slender brows rose, and the hard look in her eyes told Ariel she didn’t like that response. Well, too bad. “I see. I’d planned to invite you to breakfast with me and Trey.”
