Читать книгу A Marriage in Middlebury - Anita Higman - Страница 16

Chapter 9

9

Trying to regain some composure, Charlotte righted her chair and made the introductions.

Pastor Wally said to Sam, “I heard about your father. I’m very sorry.”

“Thank you. Appreciate it.” Sam smoothed the lapel on his jacket and then said, “Actually, I’m glad to meet up with you for another reason. I’m getting . . . married. And we decided to have the ceremony at Middlebury Chapel.”

“Now, wait a minute.” Pastor Wally pointed his finger back and forth at both of them. “Who are we talking about? Do you mean you and Charlotte here?”

“No, no,” Charlotte blurted out, feeling breathless.

Sam chuckled. “Sorry, Pastor. I should have been clearer. I’m marrying a woman named Audrey Anderson. Would it be all right for us to visit with you sometime today and discuss the ceremony?”

“Let’s see. Sometime later today should be all right. Call my secretary at the church, and she’ll get you all set up. And sorry if I embarrassed you both just now. Lately, I’ve become quite good at it. Too bad that’s not what I’m trying to get my doctorate in. It’d be a piece of cake.”

“Speaking of cake,” Charlotte said, her voice still too high-pitched. “Pastor, how about a slice of my homemade strawberry cake . . . on the house.”

“That’ll require another thirty minutes on the treadmill.” Wally rubbed his middle as if it were a pet. “But it’s hard to refuse something that would go so well with the Earl Grey. Thank you.”

“Let me get it for you.” Charlotte turned to Sam. “Would you like me to seat you? Will Audrey be joining you for lunch? I still owe you both a free welcome-home meal.”

Sam took her by the elbow and led her to the other side of the tearoom. “Audrey’s not here. I’m afraid I’m in some trouble. I forgot her birthday.”

“You forgot your fiancée’s birthday?” Edith said loudly from behind a decorative screen.

“Yes, Mrs. Mosley,” Sam said to Edith through the screen. “I’m sorry to say I did.” He grinned and then turned back to Charlotte. “I know the one thing that would win Audrey over is a box of your cinnamon buns. But I’m paying for them.”

“No,” Charlotte said, “you’re not.”

“Yes, I am paying for them.”

“No, you’re not.” Charlotte raised her chin. “And the reason you’re not paying for them is because I’m not giving them to you.”

Sam looked incredulous. “And why not?”

“Because the last thing a bride-to-be wants to eat before her wedding is a box of my cinnamon buns. They’re full of sugar and butter. She’ll never fit into her gown.”

“That’s right,” Edith chirped through the screen.

“Hmm. That didn’t even cross my mind, and I think she already has her dress.”

“You mean you don’t know?” Charlotte asked.

Panic consumed Sam’s expression. “Should I know something like that?”

“Yes.” How could Sam not know that? “It’s the most important part of a bride-to-be’s journey. It’s huge. In hiking terms it’s like planting the flag on the summit. She’ll go with her mother to a zillion bridal shops, and they’ll do this—”

“Audrey doesn’t have a mom.” Sam shuffled his foot against the floor. “Well, not one who’s a part of her life.”

“Oh? I’m so sorry to hear it.”

“Yeah, it’s been hard on her . . . to do all this with no mother to help her. I think that was the reason she sort of latched onto you for assistance.”

“I see.” Guilt took Charlotte by the throat and squeezed.

“Thank you, Charlotte.” Sam tugged on her sleeve. “You’ve saved me. I would have blown it twice with Audrey. But what do you think I should buy her to make up for it?”

“Go two doors down to the flower shop,” Edith hollered through the screen.

“Thanks, Mrs. Mosley,” Sam said back to her.

“Listen, Charlotte. I know Audrey wanted to get with you concerning the wedding reception. She wanted to know if she could drop by and work out some more of the details—”

Edith Mosley lumbered around the screen and appeared in front of them. Her big-boned frame loomed over them like an angry Shrek just as it did when they sat in her history class. “Sam Wilder, did it ever occur to you, that considering you were both in love at one time, that Charlotte might feel uncomfortable helping you plan your wedding? And it might feel awkward for Charlotte to give you advice on how to win your fiancée over after you forgot her birthday?

Sam flushed red—actually, the color of burgundy rosebuds. He looked at Charlotte while he said to Edith Mosley, “It was Audrey’s idea to have Charlotte help with the wedding, but I shouldn’t have agreed to it. I shouldn’t even have come today.”

“You got that right,” Edith said. “What happened to all that sensitivity? You used to be one of the most thoughtful young men I knew. In fact, weren’t you the one who freed all the frogs in science class before they could be dissected?”

“Yeah, that was me,” Sam said. “But I was also the one who set off a stink bomb in your history class.”

“That was you?” Edith’s eyebrows shot up.

“Thanks, Edith,” Charlotte said. “I can take it from here.”

Edith shook her head and then smiled at Sam. “Glad to have you back in Middlebury.” Then she moseyed on back to her seat, mumbling to herself.

Charlotte placed her hand on Sam’s arm, and then thinking it might be misconstrued as too affectionate, she pulled away. “I admit when Audrey asked me to help with the wedding I was surprised. But I really don’t want her left alone to do this wedding. I feel very blessed to have had a mother who loved me, and it sounds like Audrey has never known that joy. I will help her. I will. It’ll be okay, Sam.” And it would indeed be okay. Charlotte would make sure of it.