The Sometime Bride

Chapter Three

Carrie sat in the narrow oaken stairwell, finally getting a cell signal. The remoteness of the inn made service unpredictable. Carrie hadn’t been able to pick up more than two bars anywhere but here.

She nervously twirled a lock of chestnut hair, rehearsing what she would tell her grandmother. I’m sorry, Grandmother, but things just didn’t work out… No, Carrie had already been there and done that one. Besides, her second strike would make her look like a total washout, not the “together” young woman her adoring Grandma Russell took her to be.

Grandmother, there’s been a last-minute change in plans…

Nope, that would only make her look inconsiderate. Horribly inconsiderate, given the wedding shower was scheduled for tomorrow.

Carrie sighed and hit autodial, trusting something brilliant would come to mind the instant she heard her grandmother’s voice.

“Hello?”

“Grandmother, it’s Carrie—”

“Oh, sweetheart,” her grandma began in her endless prattle, “so lovely to hear your voice. Amelia and I were just discussing china patterns, and we really think the one you—”

“Grandmother…”

“Oh, lands sakes, child. I know, I know! Really none of my business. But, to tell you the truth, the everyday pattern you picked is ever so much more attractive and could really double for formal ware if push came to shove, and—”

Carrie blew a hard breath. This was going to be even harder than she’d imagined. “Grandmother!”

“Well, okay, okay, dear. You are absolutely right about that! Who needs to fret over china patterns when you’ve got a perfectly gorgeous man on your arm!”

“Grandma Russell!” Carrie shouted into the phone.

“Well, gracious me, child, you don’t need to yell. Ma Bell’s improved quite a bit since the days I courted your grandpa.” She chuckled. “Lands sakes, child. Meant that one the other way around—quite the other way…”

Carrie sighed and slumped back against the wall behind her.

“Now, sweetheart,” her grandmother finally asked, “what was it you wanted to tell me?”

Carrie racked her brain for a creative intro. “Well, it’s about seating arrangements, actually.”

“Tomorrow, sweetie? Your great-aunties and I’ve got that all worked out. No need for you to fret one bit. Nellie even hand-stitched the place cards.”

The bottom dropped out of Carrie’s stomach. “Aunt Nellie crocheted those beautiful lace place cards? But, I thought… That was supposed to be part of her wedding gift! I thought she was making those for the…wedding.”

“Couldn’t wait to see your face, she said. And you’ll have to really butter her up on this one too, sweetness. She did a divine job. Absolutely divine! You would think the royal family was coming to tea, and not just your wedding party.”

Carrie swallowed hard and tried to summon her courage. “Grandma…?”

“Yes, dearie?”

“What time is the shower again?”

“Land sakes, child, you are a nervous bride, aren’t you? Four o’clock, same as it was last time you asked. But don’t worry if you’re not here right on the button. Just don’t make us old gals wait too long. You know how it is with us geriatrics. We tend to nod off after a while when nothing’s happening!”

“Don’t worry, Grandma,” Carrie said. “I promise not to put anybody to sleep.”

Grandma Russell chuckled. “From what you’ve told me, you and that handsome groom of yours will be sure to wake up any crowd!”

“Right,” Carrie agreed, feeling the fire of deceit spread from her temples to her collarbone.

“Can’t wait to see what he looks like, dearie,” Grandma Russell crooned into the phone. “Me and the girls have been speculating all day.”

“That makes two of us,” Carrie said quietly, ending the call.

“What’s that?” Mike asked from the landing.

Carrie looked up, startled. “Oh, Mike, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“No?” he asked. “Could have sworn you said something about the two of—”

“Oh no,” Carrie said with a blush. “That was my grandmother. Just got off the phone with her about…”

“Some of those plans that needed canceling?” Mike ventured.

Carrie gave him a shaky smile. “More or less.”

“Say, you all right?” he asked, taking the steps two at a time and coming up to where she sat trembling at the bend in the stairs. “Because to tell you the truth, Carrie, you don’t look so hot.”

“Bet you say that to all the girls,” she said, twisting her lips into the best imitation of a smile she could muster.

“Actually,” he told her, “it’s just the opposite.”

“Now I see why you’re not married.”

Mike crossed his arms over his chest and leaned a shoulder against the wall. “This has something to do with Wilson, doesn’t it?”

Carrie vehemently shook her head as moisture brimmed in her eyes.

Mike cocked his chin and scrutinized her.

“Okay,” she admitted, making an inch-wide motion with her thumb and forefinger. “Maybe a little…”

Mike shook his head and held his ground.

“All right already! More than a little bit, okay? What is it exactly you want me to say?” she asked as coal-hot tears streamed down her cheeks. “That my life is a total mess? That everyone in my hometown is expecting me to show up for a bridal shower tomorrow—with my groom-to-be—and my groom-to-be has dumped me for a woman with a better financial portfolio?”

Mike dropped down on the step beside her and draped a steadying arm around her trembling shoulders.

“You don’t have to be nice to me,” she asserted, trying her damndest to set her jaw but failing miserably.

“I know,” Mike said, reaching over and raising her chin. “But I want to be.”

“But why?” Carrie asked with a sniff. “What could possibly be in it for you? I’ve already told you I want nothing more than…”

“Carrie, I have a question,” Mike said, searching her bleary eyes.

“About what?”

“The people at this shower. Do they know…? I mean, have any of them actually met Wilson?”

“Well, only Paulette. But that was over a year ago.”

“So then, she might not notice if Wilson has changed a bit? Lost some weight? Shaved his beard?”

“Lost some weight? What in the world are you talking about? Wilson was—and always will be—the ultimate bean pole! And he never had a beard!”

Carrie stared in amazement as Mike’s lips curved into a devilish smile. Though, in truth, the thought had crossed her own mind once or twice—she’d never envisioned the absurd notion becoming a reality.

“Wait a minute! You couldn’t possibly be thinking… That you—”

Mike nodded. “Darling, I’ve waited forever to meet your family.”

Carrie straightened under the weight of his arm. “Very funny.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

Carrie looked him square in the eye. “But you can’t be serious! Why ever on earth would you do that for me?”

“To buy you some time?” he said, giving her shoulders a light squeeze. “Hey, I know firsthand how disorienting this type of situation can be. The last thing a nice girl like you needs is having to face her family with the abysmal news—when you alone haven’t even adjusted to it yourself.”

Carrie wriggled out from under his arm and set aside the cell phone. “Who says I haven’t adjusted?”

Mike raised his brow and trailed a finger down her tearstained cheek. “Wild guess?”

Carrie dropped her head. “I would never accept an offer like that from a stranger.” Even one who sent her stomach all aflutter like him, Carrie told herself. “Particularly not knowing you well enough to really know what you expect in return.”

“No problem. I can tell you that.”

Carrie looked up and arched both eyebrows.

“Class of Ninety-two.”