Page 35 of The One Before

“I see.” She starts fiddling with flowers again, nervous she’s pushed into unchartered territory. “I think we’re more than capable of handling this on our own.”

“I’ve never been close to my family,” I say, feeling the need to explain. “I grew up in the system. My most recent foster mother and I were close, but she died not long after Coop and I started dating. Cancer.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Madison.” She stops what she’s doing and stares, like she wants to cradle me. “It must be hard planning a wedding without the person you love the most there to help.”

“I guess that’s why I’m so laid-back when it comes to all this. I never had daydreams about my father walking me down the aisle, or dress shopping with my mother.” I smile to let Anne know I’m okay, even though I feel like I’m on the verge of crying. “I do wish my foster mother could have been here though. Ginny. That was her name.”

Anne drops her gaze to the bouquet in her hands. When she looks at me, there are tears in her eyes. “I lost my daughter some years back. That’s why it’s been so long since I’ve planned a wedding.”

“I’m so sorry, Anne.” I reach for her hands. My instincts want to ask what happened, but I don’t. I don’t need to resurrect this woman’s pain. And I know how difficult it can be trying to answer questions about one’s past. “That’s a terrible loss.”

“I couldn’t wait for the day we’d plan her wedding. Once I realized that wouldn’t happen, it wasn’t much fun organizing events anymore. That’s why I’ve stuck to community functions. I still have bills to pay, but those hurt a little less.”

For a brief moment, I try to imagine the anguish Anne must feel. I’ve never had deep connections with anyone besides Beth and Coop. Before them, the closest bond I had was with Ginny, but the nature of our relationship meant our time together was limited. Even if she were alive, our relationship was always an artificial sort of mother/daughter bond. In the brief moments Anne has spent telling me about her daughter, I can tell they had the real thing.

“It means a lot you’re planning this with me,” I say, reaching for Anne’s quivering hands. It calms her, and she smiles.

“It’s like fate, isn’t?”

“I suppose.” I’m not sure why my wedding is so special, why this is the event that has brought Anne out of her seclusion. It must have something to do with me marrying a Douglas, and all the power and prestige one feels being involved with them.

“Well.” Anne wipes tears from her cheeks and smiles. “I’ve got more to talk to you about than sad memories. I’ll pass along your centerpiece decisions to the florist. Now, we need to decide on invitations.”

I pull out my computer and show her my shortlist of potential designs. We select one and submit our order, so they’ll arrive next week. Afterward, Anne presents various options for entertainment. We select a band that’s available, and Anne promises to reserve them. Then we move on to the bridesmaid dress. I tell her I’ll go shopping with Regina, since she’s the only attendant.

“Will your sister-in-law also provide the cake?”

“I think dinner will be all her staff can handle. We should see if we can find a bakery willing to commit last-minute.”

“Between now and our next meeting, I’ll sort it out. Maybe I can even organize a tasting.”

“Sounds wonderful.” I laugh, and Anne does, too. It’s nice, feeling assured about the decisions we’ve just made.

“I must say, this is quite an easy job,” she says, holding out her hands. “There’s little left for me to do.”

“Still, I appreciate your help. It makes me more confident.”

She smiles. It’s as though she wants to say more but doesn’t. “Well, I guess we can meet next week after the invitations arrive. Will Thursday work?”

“That’s perfect.” I stand, as does Anne. “If you don’t mind, Josephine would like to join our next session.”

She pauses as she walks to the front door. “Any particular reason why? I know she’s a very busy woman.”

“I think she’s tested her patience in staying out of our hair this long.” I laugh. “She says she wants to give me control over the wedding, but deep down I know she wants to be involved. You don’t mind?”

“Of course not,” she says, pulling sunglasses over her eyes. “It’s her son’s wedding. It’s natural for her to help.”

“Great.” I smile, not because Josephine will be joining us, but because Anne understands. “I’ll see you Thursday?”

“See you then.”

She loads the boxes into her car and leaves.

Twenty-Six

Helena

Shit, shit, shit. Just when I thought things were going my way, Josephine Douglas has to get involved. The poise and power of that woman makes me want to spit. If she were in my position, she’d carry herself better. She’d start a charity. Become an inspiration. But I don’t think that woman loves her children the way I loved my girl. She could move on. I can’t.

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