You Say It First
Page 51

He always said the nicest things, she thought happily, enjoying the way his mouth teased hers.
He drew back just a little. “So how’s your day going? Didn’t you have an appointment with a potential client?”
“I did. Taylor and Jake. They want an under-the-sea wedding.”
“What does that mean?”
“She dresses like a mermaid and he’s a pirate.”
“I’m the guy here, so maybe I’m missing the point, but if pirates go under the sea, aren’t they dead?”
“You’re reading too much into it. Don’t look for the logic—just go with it.”
“Okay. I will. What did you talk about?”
Pallas showed him her notes and the things they’d come up with while brainstorming. “I want to use the sheers to create the illusion of water moving.”
“You have to use pearls,” he said, taking the pad from her and flipping to a clean page. He pulled a pencil out of his shirt pocket and drew what looked like a tall glass.
“There have to be some kind of plastic pearls that would float,” he said, sketching several floating ovals. “We could weight them with something small. Or maybe layers of clear lacquer so they float at different levels. Then you put a votive at the top.” He finished the drawing.
“I love it,” she breathed. “They would be easy to put together and inexpensive. Plus we could use the tall holders for other weddings.”
“You could. The food will be fun. How about a battered rowboat to hold sodas and water?”
“Perfect. And little sand dollar cookies. I have a custom cookie designer I can call. Now that you’re on a roll, I have a problem for you to solve. What do we do about decorating the chairs?”
He flipped to another page and drew one of the chairs they used for weddings. After thinking for a minute, he began to fill in the back with rippling strips.
“Fabric,” he told her. “Connected to some kind of band or backing. You cut it out like ruffles and edge it. Pale blue, aqua, creamy white.”
She nodded, liking what he was doing. “Those would have to be custom. Unless Taylor knows someone who can edge all the fabric and then sew them together. We also thought about using a message in a bottle for place settings. I wonder if there’s a way to make that work for the guest book.”
He pulled her close. “It’s not Nova and Joel’s wedding, but it will still be fun,” he told her.
“I know. That’s what I keep thinking. Have you heard from her?”
“No.”
“No one has. I hope Tim hasn’t died. Not that I want him suffering. It’s just hard.”
He kissed her again. “You have a very big heart.”
“How could you know them and not care?”
“Some people wouldn’t.”
“Then they don’t have hearts at all.”
* * *
PALLAS SPENT THE rest of the day working on her bid for Taylor. The more she played with different ideas, the more those ideas blossomed. While the basic wedding menu was fine, she found she really enjoyed the creative challenges.
“You’re looking happy about something.”
Pallas glanced up to find Libby standing in the doorway to her office. She quickly saved her computer file, then stood. “Mom, did I know you were going to stop by?”
“You did not.”
Libby glanced around the office, then sighed, as if disappointed, yet again. She took the seat across from Pallas’s. “I stopped by to ask what on earth you’re doing.”
Pallas was pretty sure Libby wasn’t talking about the under-the-sea wedding. “You mean in my life?”
“No. With this business. How much longer are you going to pretend that it’s right for you? That you can make it a success? You’re dabbling, which is incredibly disappointing for all of us. I’d hoped you would come to your senses on your own, but it has become apparent that isn’t going to happen.”
Pallas honestly didn’t know what to say—which turned out to be less of an issue when her mother just kept talking.
“It’s a nightmare,” Libby continued. “Every time I turn around, it’s worse. You are just like your grandfather.”
“Grandpa Frank?”
Her mother pressed her lips together. “Who else would I mean? Bad enough that you’re destroying your future, but you’re taking the family’s reputation down with you. Have you considered that?”
“Mom, I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You were supposed to be working at the bank,” Libby said, her tone sharp. “That was your dream. Not this wedding nonsense. I have no idea what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. About all of it. You worked so hard for your degree. I was so sure you’d learned your lesson. Yet here you are, throwing everything away, and for what?”
There were so many statements, so many accusations, Pallas didn’t know where to begin. She went from shocked to angry to sad in the space of a few seconds. As her mother went on and on, Pallas realized no matter what she did, she always disappointed Libby. Nothing was ever right or good enough or positive.
Nearly ten years before, Libby and her sister Margaret had decided to go on a cruise together—something they’d never done. Pallas had been happy for her mother and had spent a not-inconsiderable amount on a perfume set. Something special for her mom to take on the trip. Something to say, “Hey, Mom, I love you. Have a great time.”
Libby had stared at the box before shaking her head. “Why did you buy this? I could have gotten it for half the price at the duty-free shop.”
At the time Pallas had been hurt. Now she knew she had to accept the bitter truth. She and Libby would never be close. They would never just hang out and talk. While on the surface it seemed that if she just took the job at the bank, everything would be fine, she knew that wasn’t true. One way or the other, she would screw up and Libby would once again be disappointed.
“You’re not listening to me,” her mother complained. “That is so like you.”
“A constant disappointment?” Pallas asked, then didn’t bother waiting for an answer. “You know what, Mom? I get it. I know exactly how it feels to be disappointed by someone again and again.”
“I doubt that.”
“You’re wrong. I know it because that’s how I feel about you.”
Pallas had no idea where the words had come from, but the second she uttered them, she knew she was telling the truth. A truth that she’d been afraid to even think for far too long.
“Don’t you—” her mother started.
Pallas ignored her and kept talking. “I’ve worked so hard to make you happy. To make you proud of me. I’ve kept banging my head against the wall and nothing ever changes. I’m sure you’re going to say it’s all my fault and maybe it is, but you know what? I’m tired of trying. I’ve always felt less than everyone else in your eyes. I don’t know why it has to be like this but that’s the way it is.”
“I... You...” Libby sucked in air. “You can’t speak to me like that.”
“I’m not being disrespectful—I’m telling you how I feel. And I feel bad. All the time. You’re not like this with Cade. I don’t know if it’s a girl thing or what. He never did what you wanted and you adore him. So what is it? Why can’t I make you happy? Or maybe that’s not the question. Maybe I should ask, why don’t you care about what makes me happy?”