Page 87 of Love and Other Trials
Ariel caught him glancing their way once when she and the men raised their bourbon and shouted, “To the Navy,” but he didn’t come over even then. She felt bad for him. She knew his time ahead wasn’t going to be an easy one.
Like she’d told Dax, it wasn’t their decision.
When they all finally left the lodge to return to their cottages, it was after midnight. Her hand was in Dax’s and she felt languorous and loose after all the camaraderie. His Navy buddies were humming some tune from college days off to the side, which Dax had leaned down and told her was “Anchors Aweigh.”
Jeffrey put his arm around her and kissed her cheek. “You’re plumb tuckered out. Why don’t you give me a few more duties tomorrow morning since you’re going to be crashing with the setup crews?”
The checklist she had for tomorrow needed a binder clip it was so long. She hadn’t left anything to chance. “That’s so sweet. I’m working with the event manager early with our vendor for the wedding tent. They want to make sure the area isn’t too wet for the ground anchors to work.”
“Shit!” Dax exclaimed, slapping his forehead. “I hadn’t thought about that. What happens if?—”
“We’re not going there.” She held up a hand, her brain nearly imploding at the mere thought of the tent not going up as planned. “This contractor puts up tents for a living, so I’m choosing to believe they can get it done.”
Jeffrey dug out a vial of holy water and sprinkled it in the air, making her cough out a laugh. “Let’s hope so. We don’t need another ‘Can’t help you, ma’am, this here is an act of God.’”
Her stomach acid started to churn, making her feel nauseous. “Like I said. No doom and gloom. The sun is going to shine. The tent will safely go up. The wedding will come off at four o’clock in beautiful fashion, just like Tiffany imagines. All will be well.”
It had to be.
“What time do you need to pick up her wedding dress from the dry cleaner?” Dax asked. “I know that’s one of your main off-site tasks.”
“Dax and I can go and get it for you.” Jeffrey squeezed her tense shoulder. “You’re needed here. Consider us on call for any last-minute emergencies.”
“Did someone say emergencies?” Perry asked, as all the men stopped singing. “That’s our specialty.”
“We’ve got your back, Ariel.” Carson jerked his thumb at Dax’s buddies. “We didn’t break our backs in the mud pit for nothing.”
“Thanks, guys.” She looked around the group of men as they walked to the crossroads in the path, which branched off to all of the various cottages. “I appreciate the support. I’m going to have to do some fancy two-stepping to avoid the whole hair and makeup thing. Any ideas there?”
“Maybe just say you’re already pretty enough?” Carson suggested before Dax put him in a boyish headlock.
“Thanks, Carson, but that’s not going to work,” she said.
“Don’t worry.” Jeffrey thrust his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his leather loafers. “I’ve got my wig story. I’ll come back and say I can’t find it anywhere. Stormy won’t buy it—neither will the Three Tornadoes—but there’s not much they can do. Plus, the blame will rest on me. Better for you that way, Ariel.”
She felt herself melt. “Just like old times, huh? You covered for me when they wanted me to wear that horrible Easter egg pink pinafore dress to Tiffany’s high school graduation. God, that thing was ghastly.”
Dax’s smile flashed in the night. “What did you conceive of that time, Jeffrey?”
Her sweet big brother got a devious twinkle in his brown eyes as all the men clustered around. “I told the girl who lived next door that Ariel was giving some dresses away if she wanted them. Like a spring cleaning. When Mary arrived, I told her how good the pink dress would look on her, which it did. She was the cutest little blonde with a personality like homemade strawberry shortcake. She took the dress and a few others Stormy had gotten for Ariel, which did not suit her one bit.”
Ariel felt a cold chill touch her spine, thinking about the wardrobe her mother used to make her wear. Ruffles. Caps with flowers on them. Pastels. Gag. Her baby and toddler pictures needed to be burned someday. “Mother broke two nails searching for that dress.”
Jeffrey gave a dramatic shudder. “Which is the end of the world for Stormy. Nail lengths must match. Anyway, three weeks later, she spotted poor little Mary at the neighborhood block party in that pink dress and accused her of stealing it. I got into trouble, of course, after confessing—I couldn’t let Mary be carted off to jail, which I feared Stormy would insist on.”
“My God!” Perry shook his head, mouth gaping. “Forgive me for saying so, but I’ve never heard of such mean-spiritedness. What happened to you?”
Jeffrey gave a sly smile. “Stormy couldn’t touch me. She and my father were already divorced by then, and I didn’t live under her roof. Thank God!”
But Ariel had lived with her. She’d never told Jeffrey this, but Stormy had found a way to punish her. She hadn’t allowed her to go to Folly Beach to see Grandma that summer, and it had cut her in two. For a time after that, she’d ceded to her mother’s wishes. Leaving the house to go to college had helped, but her mother had never stopped trying to control her daughters.
Tomorrow, there would be a showdown about the wig. She’d take the brunt of her mother’s anger—the Tornadoes’ too—and tell them they had enough to focus on, didn’t they? She only hoped they’d let it go. For a time at least. Because her mother was known for payback.
“Jesus!” Carson’s voice held an edge. “No offense, Ariel, but Rob’s marrying into a nuthouse. I’ve been trying to keep an open mind, but I can’t say I like what I’ve heard here. Or from Dax.”
Gunner bared his teeth in the muted light. “Me either. I love my man, but this…”
“I keep wondering what it would take to have Rob snap out of whatever spell she has him under,” Carson added. “The way she acted about the sod lines really pissed me off.”
