Page 17 of Carly's Heart

“I’ll go with you.” Carly paused beside the table. “Birch, can you watch Layla for me? I’ll just be a moment.”

“Certainly. The munchkin and I will be fine. Won’t we?” He smiled down at Layla.

“Bye, Mama.”

On the deck, she kicked out of her wedge sandals and chased Tanya across the lawn. She caught up with her beside the swimming hole in the creek on the far side of the large yard.

“Are you okay?” She hugged Tanya close and rubbed her back.

Tanya sniffed. “I’m okay. I just want this wedding over and done with so George and I can start a family together.”

That was twice in five minutes that she mentioned having a family. Only once did she proclaim her love for George, and Carly didn’t believe her. Nobody should wish their wedding was over. It was supposed to be the best day of a bride’s life. Carly kept the thoughts to herself and comforted her friend. “Your life together will be amazing. Just two weeks and you’ll be on your honeymoon. Just think of it, a Paris honeymoon. It’ll be amazing.” She squeezed her friend tight.

“Your wedding will be wonderful and if that old witch wants to foot the bill for roses, let her. We can visit Marcy’s and get her to make you some lovely sunflower print lingerie for your honeymoon. She’d do it in an instant. She’s actually got some sunflower print silk.” Marcy owned a small custom lingerie shop at the far end of main street. Marcy’s Magic was a small but growing business. “We can go after our shift tomorrow. Layla will love it.”

Carly knew mentioning Layla would be a pleasant distraction to her friend because, like Birch, Tanya doted on Layla and treated her like a daughter.

“Am I doing the right thing? Marrying George?” she grasped Carly’s hands and squeezed until Carly winced.

“I can’t answer that. Only you can. Do what makes your heart happy. If marrying George makes you happy, go for it. Don’t let his mother ruin your future.” She wanted to scream at Tanya, tell her not to marry George. At least not so soon. She didn’t understand his rush. He proposed so fast, too fast. Maybe it was love at first sight, but she doubted it. It felt like George had an ulterior motive. And Tanya’s sudden dive into love was so unlike her. She was much more cautious and usually considered things thoroughly before making a decision.

“This is your life,” she said. “If you love George, marry him. Just be certain this is what you want. I’ll support you whatever you decide.” She played with her necklace as they sat side by side on the wooden-slat bench which had been alongside the creek for as long as Carly had been visiting the ranch. She didn’t say anything else, she just held Tanya’s hand and provided quiet comfort.

After ten minutes, Tanya sniffed. “I’m so sorry you can’t be part of my wedding. Do you still love me?” She gave a watery smile.

“Girl, you are my best friend, whether I’m in your wedding party or not. I just want you to be happy.” It was the truth. She bit back her doubts about Tanya’s choice of spouse. She had never cared for George. “Are you ready to go back? I need to check on Layla.” She dug into the pocket of the floaty dress she’d sewn and handed Tanya a tissue.

“Birch has her, she’s fine.” Tanya blew her nose and straightened her spine but didn’t get up from the bench. “Let’s just sit for another minute.” She leaned her head against Carly’s shoulder and sighed.

♥♥♥

BIRCH BANKED THE URGE to speak his mind. He wasn’t a big fan of his sister’s fiancé and meeting his parents had doubled his dislike. Who let their parents walk on them like that? Familial respect was one thing, total disregard for a family member’s wishes was another thing altogether. Thankfully, open discussion had always been important to his family.

“How are you doing, kiddo?” he asked Layla and wondered if Carly had managed to calm his sister. Not that she didn’t have every right to be furious.

“I’m thirsty.” Layla reached for her milk which was just a little out of her reach. She lifted up onto her knees and wobbled. Her elbow bumped Mrs.Romero’s wine glass. It wiggled and Layla made a grab for it.

He watched in what seemed like slow motion as the red wine sloshed to the top and over as the glass tipped ... right into the old bat’s lap, making her cuss aloud.

Layla let out a howl and started to cry. Birch scooped her up. “No harm done. It was an accident.” He pushed back from the table, Layla in his arms.

“No harm done?” the old battle axe roared. “My dress is ruined. That child is ... is ... she’s a menace. I told you children don’t belong at the table.”

“Wrong,” Birch snapped out. “Children do belong at the table. Layla is family. People with no tolerance or understanding of children don’t belong at this table.” He took a step backward. “Mom, Dad, I’m taking Layla outside to play. We’ll be back in for dessert.”

“No worries, dear. We’ll bring dessert to you.” His mom rushed to Mrs.Romero’s side to help clean up the wine. From the pinched expression on his mother’s face, he suspected she was more worried about the area rug under the table than the wine on their guest’s expensive dress. Later, his mother would reprimand him for being rude to her guests, but he didn’t care.

Out on the back deck, he set Layla down and tried to calm himself. The woman was a witch. Her husband hadn’t said two words, instead he’d bowed to his wife’s control. As for George junior, he was even more insipid than he had seemed before this disastrous dinner. How could he let his mother take over their wedding like that?

Birch might not know much about courting women, but he knew that a wedding was supposed to be perfect for a bride. It was about her wants and needs, not image or power. No doubt there would be a hundred influential people attending what had originally been planned as an intimate family affair.

“Am I in trouble?” Layla’s voice quivered. “I didn’t get to eat my spare-gus.”

Birch bit back a laugh. Asparagus was one of the few words this talking dynamo couldn’t say. How a three-year-old had developed such an amazing vocabulary he didn’t know, but it was adorable. “No, Little Bean, you aren’t in trouble. You sit here on the swing, and I’ll sneak into the kitchen and grab us both some spare-gus. I know Grandma Helen cooked lots.”

Instantly, her tears dried up. She climbed onto the padded porch swing and sat with her legs straight out, hands folded in her lap. Obviously, she was trying to show she was on her best behavior. He was in and out of the house in seconds with a heaping plate of asparagus and a fork.

He handed her the plate and fork before he snitched a piece and bit the end off.

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