Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 95816 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95816 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
“How is it possible this is available?” Ellen asked. “It’s perfect.”
“It’s a fairly new addition. And we are very choosy about the events we allow to use the facility,” Heather said. Her words made Ellen’s mother smile. She liked the thought of exclusiveness.
“And Ashley tells me you want cakes.”
“Yes,” Ellen agreed. “Ronald loves cake.”
“We have the best in the city. The province, even,” Heather boasted.
“We can arrange for a tasting if you like,” Grace offered, speaking for the first time.
“Oh, that would be lovely.” Ellen glanced at her mother. “This is the place, Mom. This is where I want my reception.”
I smiled at her words. It was the first time I had seen her involved and engaged with the process. I liked knowing she was happy—it was her wedding day, and she should have what she wanted.
Her mother nodded. “I would like to book the venue. We’ll take whichever weekend is available in April.”
“Of course,” Addison said. “Follow me, and we’ll get the paperwork started.”
They walked out of the room, leaving Heather, Grace, and me behind.
For a moment, we stared at one another. Three women, all strangers, yet related. Curious. Cautious. Not knowing how to start.
I searched their faces, wondering if they were looking for the same things as I was. Similarities.
It was there with Heather in the eyes. With Grace, it was the smile. All of us had the cowlick. I alone had Richard’s long fingers.
“Well, if this isn’t set up for a bad joke,” Heather said.
“Hardly a joke,” Grace replied, her voice calm but tight.
“No, it isn’t,” I agreed. “I’ll go find my clients and say goodbye. They can sign the paperwork, and Anne can get in touch.”
Grace stepped forward. “No. Wait—you don’t have to leave.”
“What would you like me to do, then, Grace?”
“Have coffee with us.”
I was stunned. “You want to have coffee with me?”
She swallowed, looking unsure and nervous. I noticed her fingers fidgeting and the unconscious tapping of her toes. But she cleared her throat and pulled back her shoulders. “Yes.”
My mind raced, and once again, I felt on the edge of a precipice. I could refuse, walk away and reject her olive branch. Or I could accept it and sit with these two women with whom I shared a blood bond and perhaps forge a tentative beginning.
They watched me closely, each with their own feelings. Heather was pleased and hopeful. Grace was nervous and poised for rejection.
I felt the stirring of some sort of new emotion within me. With a start, I realized it was almost protectiveness. I didn’t want to hurt either of them.
“I’ll make sure Ellen and her mother are good. Then, sure. I’ll have coffee with you. Where will I meet you?”
Heather beamed at me, her expression filled with delight. “There’s a little café at the back here. It’s newly opened and not well-known, so it’s fairly private.” She indicated the hall behind her. “Down there to the left. We’ll go get a table and wait for you.”
I drew in a deep breath. “Okay.”
I checked in with Ellen and her mother, pleased to see both were looking happy. I spoke briefly with Anne, who had arrived after another meeting, planning on touching base again. With her, and a wedding planner, my input would be minimal, but still, I was happy to have helped Ellen at least find her voice in this event.
As I walked down the hall, I heard my name and turned to find Ellen following me. She thanked me profusely, and I smiled at her evident happiness.
“I convinced my mom to let me have more control,” she told me. “I am going to let the wedding planner know it will be a very different wedding from what my mom told her. Her vision and mine were quite dissimilar, and I think she will bow out. I was hoping you would work with Anne.”
“I’m pretty certain Anne can handle this.”
She shook her head. “I want you as part of it. You-you get me, Ashley. I feel stronger when you’re involved—not so afraid to speak up to my mother.” She leaned closer, her voice quiet. “She can afford it. Please.”
I chuckled. “Sure, we’ll figure something out.”
She hugged me. “Thank you!” Then she hurried off, and after squaring my shoulders, I went to join Grace and Heather.
Inside the charming café, I took a moment to glance around. Light walls, warm wood, and antique décor made it a lovely space. Perfect to hold showers, luncheons, or small, intimate receptions. I approached the table where the girls were waiting, a carafe of coffee between them and a plate of pastries beckoning. I hadn’t eaten today, and my stomach growled. Fighting my nerves, I sat down, accepting a cup of coffee and a sweet treat.
For a moment, the table was silent. I sipped and chewed, then wiped my fingers and sat back. We regarded one another warily, Grace finally breaking the silence.