Нора Робертс - Vision in White

Overwork, nerves, and emotional turmoil roiled an uneasy mix in her belly as she sat with her partners and potential clients in the parlor. Emma’s flood of tulips brought spring into the room even as the crackling fire in the hearth warmed it. Parker had set up her grandmother’s gorgeous Meissen tea and coffee sets, the Waterford crystal, and Georgian silver, all the perfect complement to Laurel’s glossy pastries.

If she’d needed a picture of lush, sophisticated, and female, this would’ve been it.

After the ritual small talk about the weather, Parker eased right in. “We’re so excited you’re considering Vows for your big day. We understand how important it is that you feel comfortable and confident in every detail that goes into creating a wedding that reflects who you are, and what you and Josh mean to each other. We want you to enjoy that day, and all the days leading up to it, knowing

you are our focus. We want what you want, a perfect and beautiful day full of memories to last the rest of your life.

“With that goal in mind, we’ve put together a few ideas. Before I show you the first proposal, do you have any questions?”

“Yes.” Kate Seaman opened the notebook on her lap. As her daughter laughed and rolled her eyes, she began peppering Parker with questions.

Parker’s answers were invariably yes. They provided that, would handle that, had a source for or a sample of that. When questions veered off into landscape, Emma took over.

“In addition to the wedding flowers, we’ll use annuals and pots in the flower beds and gardens, and those plantings will be specifically selected to enhance the arrangements Jessica ultimately selects. I realize it’s early in the season, but I can promise you spring on your wedding day.”

“If they’d wait till May.”

“Mom.” Jessica patted her mother’s hand. “We met in April, and we’re determined to be sentimental. It seems like a long time, plenty for all the planning. But already there are a million details.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” Parker told her.

“Right now, it’s the engagement party at the club, and the Save the Date announcements.”

“We can handle that for you.”

Jessica stopped, pursed her lips. “Really?”

“Absolutely. All we need is your list. We have several sources for cards. One of the more personal styles is to create a card from your engagement photo, or a photo of you and Josh you particularly like.”

“I love that idea. Don’t you, Mom?”

And I’m up, Mac thought. “The engagement photo itself might help you decide if you like that style, or want to go more traditional. Setting the date, your venue, finding that perfect dress, and the engagement photo are all early details that, once done, free your mind and your time for the rest. And also, they set the tone for your wedding.”

“You have samples of photos you’ve taken.”

“Yes.” Rising Mac picked up the portfolio of engagement shots, offered it to Kate. “I feel the engagement portrait is as important as a wedding portrait. It illustrates the promise made, the intent, the joy and anticipation. What brought these people together? Why have they exchanged this first promise? Tailoring that portrait, which announces to friends, to family, to everyone that Jessica and Josh found each other is my job.”

“In your studio?” Kate asked.

“Yes, or at whatever venue suits the couple.”

“At the club,” Kate decreed. “At the engagement party. Jessie has a stunning gown. She and Josh look wonderful together in black tie. And Jessie will be wearing my mother’s rubies.”

As her eyes misted, Kate reached over, took her daughter’s hand.

“It’s a lovely idea, and I’d be happy to set that up. But I did have another idea for this portrait. You and Josh met while riding, and that’s a passion you both share. I’d like to take a portrait of you on horseback.”

“On horseback?” Kate frowned. “It isn’t a snapshot. I don’t want Jessica in jodhpurs and a riding hat for her engagement portrait. I want her to sparkle.”

“I was thinking more a soft gleam. Romantic, a little fanciful. You have a chestnut gelding. Trooper.”

“How did you know that?”

“It’s our job to know about our clients. But not in a creepy way,” Mac added and made Jessica laugh.

“I see you and Josh on Trooper, riding double. Josh in a tux, the tie loose, the first few studs undone, and you behind him, in a gorgeous, flowing gown—and your grandmother’s rubies,” she added. “Your arms around his waist, your hair down, caught in the wind. The background just a blur of color and shape.”

“Oh my God.” Jessica just breathed it. “I love that. I really love it. Mom.”

“It sounds . . . beautiful. Magical.”

“And I think you’ll find the idea flows right into what we’ve put together as the theme for the wedding. Parker.”

Rising, Parker stepped to the easel that was set up. “We have photos that will show you overviews and details of what we’ve done in the past, what we can do, but as your wedding will be unique, we’re using sketches of our vision for your day.”

She removed the cover from the first sketch. “Fairyland,” she said, and Mac imagined each of her partners felt the same quick thrill she did when the bride gasped.

“I THINK WE GOT IT. DON’T YOU THINK WE GOT IT? GOD, I’M exhausted.” Emma sprawled out on the sofa. “And a little sick. I ate too much candy to calm my nerves. Don’t you think we got it?”

“If we didn’t, I’m taking up a collection to order a hit on Kathryn Seaman.” Laurel propped her feet on the stack of albums on the coffee table. “That woman is tough.”

“She loves her daughter,” Parker commented.

“Yeah, that came through, but God, we practically bled wedding perfection here, and couldn’t get her to commit.”

“She’s going to. Otherwise we won’t need the collection. I’ll kill her myself.” Rubbing her neck, Parker paced. “She needs to think it over, discuss it with her husband, just as Jessica has to talk it over with Josh and get his take. That’s reasonable. That’s normal.”

“Kate drives the train,” Mac pointed out. “I think she just wants to torture us. She was completely sold on the royal palace wedding cake.”

Laurel gnawed her lip. “You think?”

“I was watching her, I started watching her like a cat watches a mouse—or maybe I was the mouse and she was the cat. But I was watching her. Her eyes gleamed over that cake. I could hear her thinking, ‘Nobody’s getting that palace of a cake but my baby girl.’ We hit every note. Both of them got dreamy over Emma’s dogwoods and fairy lights. And the tulip cascade bouquet? Jessie wants it for her own. Then Mom casually mentions her husband’s two left feet, and Parker reaches into her magic collection of business cards and pulls out a personal dance instructor.”

“That was a good one,” Emma agreed. “Anyway, Mom wants what Baby wants, and Baby wants us. I can feel it.” She let out a sigh, pushed herself up. “I’ve got to go pot up fifty-five narcissus for a wedding shower. Everybody take some tulips.”

“I’m going to go see if my car’s back. I have an outside shoot and a bunch of errands.” Mac looked at Parker. “If she didn’t show, can I borrow your car?”

SOME PEOPLE, PARKER THOUGHT, WOULD SAY SHE WAS INTERFERING, that this was none of her business. Some people, she thought, didn’t know her.

She fixed problems. And if she didn’t at least try to fix one for her oldest friend, then what was the point in being a fixer in the first place?

She walked into Coffee Talk determined to do her best, for everyone.

The Sunday night crowd set up a low hum of conversation. She could hear the whoosh of the frother, the buzz of the grinder as she glanced around. She spotted Carter at a two-top, and putting on a smile walked over to join him.

“Hi, Carter, thanks for meeting me.”

“Sure. You had an event today.”

“This afternoon. It went very well.” No point in wasting time, she thought. “Mac was unhappy and upset, but she put that aside for the clients.”

“I’m sorry I upset her.”

“And she you. But,” Parker continued before he could speak, “her mother’s at the root of it. I imagine all three of us know that, even if we react to it differently.”

“She was embarrassed. Mackensie. She didn’t need to be. Not for me.”

“Her mother will always embarrass her.” Parker glanced at the waitress who stopped at the table. “Some jasmine tea, thanks.”

“Coming right up. Dr. Maguire?”

“That’s fine. Two of those.”

“Carter, I want to give you a little background, so you understand the why of it all. What you and Mac do about it, that’s up to you.”

As she spoke, Parker pulled off her gloves, loosened her coat. “I don’t know how much she’s told you, and she’d be royally pissed at me for expanding on whatever she has, but here it is. Her parents divorced when she was four. Her father—and she adored him—walked away from her as easily as he did Linda. He’s a careless man. Not calculating like Linda, just careless. He grew up privileged, and with a nice fat trust fund. That may seem hypocritical coming from me, but—”

“No, it doesn’t. You and Del, your parents, you always contributed. That’s the word for it.”

“Thank you. Geoffrey Elliot just goes where he likes, does as he pleases, and prefers to avoid any sort of upheaval. Linda shoves, pushes, wheedles her way through life. She got a very nice settlement from Mac’s father, and blew through the bulk of it.”

She smiled. “Children hear things, even when they’re not supposed to know what they mean.”

“There had to be child support.”

“Yes. Mac was housed and fed and clothed very well. So, of course, was her mother. They both remarried before Mac was seven. Linda divorced again within two years.”

She paused as their tea was served. “After that, there were a lot of men, a lot of love affairs, and a lot of drama. Linda feeds on drama. Geoffrey divorced again, and married again. He has a son with his third wife, and they spend most of their time in Europe. Linda has a daughter by her second husband.”

“Yes, Mac told me she had two half siblings.”

“They rarely see each other. Eloisa spent, and spends, a lot of time with her father, who obviously loves her very much.”

“That must’ve been hard. To see her sister have that, while she didn’t.”

“Yeah. And because it was, for the most part, only Mac at home, Linda expected, demanded, used. It’s her way. She married again. Every time she married, they moved to another house, another neighborhood. Another school for Mac. Linda pulled Mac out of the academy when she divorced her third husband. Then put her back in, briefly, a couple of years later because, it turned out, she was involved with a man—a married one—on the board of directors.”

“No stability, ever. Nothing she could count on,” Carter murmured.

Parker sighed. “All of her life, Mac’s had her mother weeping on her shoulder over some slight, some broken heart, some trouble. Linda was raised to believe herself the center of the universe, and she did her best to raise Mac to believe it, too. She’s a strong woman, our Mac. Smart, self-reliant, brilliant at what she does. But this vulnerable spot is like an aching wound. Linda continually yanks the scab off. She grew up with callousness, and fears being callous.”

“She doesn’t trust us, because nothing in her life has ever given her the foundation to trust.”

“You do listen. That was one of the first things she told me about you. I’m going to give you an advantage, Carter, another thing she wouldn’t thank me for. I’m giving it to you because I love her.”

“I could use one.”

Parker reached out to lay her hand over his on the table. “I’ve never seen her the way she is with you, not with anyone else. I’ve never seen her care, so much. Because of that, what she has with you, what she’s finding with you, scares her.”

“I’ve figured some of that, at least the scared part. As someone who loves her, what would you advise me to do?”

“I was hoping you’d ask,” Parker said with a smile. “Give her a little space, a little time—but not too much. And don’t give up on her. The only constants in her life have been me and my family, Emma and Laurel. She needs you.”

“I can’t give up on her,” Carter said simply. “I’ve been waiting for her most of my life.”

NEITHER THE CAR NOR HER MOTHER SHOWED ON MONDAY. ON Tuesday, when her patience ran thin, Mac’s calls to her mother’s house and cell went directly to voice mail.