Page 165 of Banter & Blushes

CHAPTER 5

ARWYN

Tuesday flew by way too fast. Zaki and I went to apply for our marriage license. When we returned, he brought in my sewing machine from the RV and Mom helped me set up a workspace in the dining area. We moved furniture to block it off from the pups. I was running low on thread, and I hadn’t yet purchased the beads, lace, or embroidery thread I needed because I thought I’d have a whole extra month to construct the gown.

There wasn’t a shop in the Bar Harbor area that had what I needed, so Wednesday morning, I climbed into Mom’s rental car to drive to Bangor. By the time we returned to the resort, members of Flynn and Meggie’s wedding party had begun to arrive. Zaki knew several of them from the league, and it would have been rude not to greet them, but the interruptions added up. Zaki ordered us lunch from The Lobster Trap, and the owner, Denise, delivered it herself. Turned out she was a big hockey fan and wanted to congratulate Zaki on the Edge’s Cup run.

After we ate, Zaki left to run errands. Mom settled into a chair at the end of the table with her laptop while I sewed. Usually, I liked the quiet while I worked, but I only had limited time with her before she went back to who knows where. I wasn’t very good at initiating conversations though, and sometimes I blurted out questions or thoughts before I could think them through. Often, they were unexpected and/or off-topic, and I’d learned early on from other kids laughing at me to keep them to myself.

But there were so many questions I wanted to ask her. Whythisparticular week for vacation? Are you on a secret assignment close by? Why was your job more important than your family?

But instead, I asked a safe question. “Did you really have an hour-long video chat with Zaki? He’s been known to exaggerate.”

She typed for a few more seconds, then closed her laptop. “I did. I had to make sure he’d take good care of my girl. He’s already got a family to support. How do I know he can give you all the attention you deserve?”

“Why?” I blurted before I could think. “I’ve been taking care of myself for years.”Didn’t Dad and I deserveyourattention?I wanted to ask.

Mom raised her eyebrows. She didn’t speak for a good, long minute. “And you’ve done a wonderful job taking care of yourself. You have a reliable support network and caring inner circle. Marrying Zaki isn’t the problem I see. Leaving your home, your friends, and everything you know and love to move to a new place—a city—where you’ll have to build a support network from scratch seems like a mountain to climb for a quiet introvert who prefers a cozy reading nook to a Wags Night Out.”

I frowned. A few months ago, that was one hundred percent true. “I’ve changed,” I said. “Zaki—in his big but gentle way—has encouraged me to tiptoe out of my shell. He’s given me the confidence to leave the house and open up more. The Edge wives and girlfriends are amazing, and I’m sure the spouses in Montreal will be, too. And his family is only three hours away in Quebec City. It’s going to be fine.”

“And the girls? Taking on the role of stepmom? Partnering with their mother to help raise them? No doubts there?”

I pressed my lips together and fought back the hot tears that were burning at the back of my eyes. “Why are you bringing all this up? Don’t you think I’ve thought of it?”

“It’s my job, Wyn. This is what mothers do.”

Do mothers also leave their husband and six-year-old daughter to pursue a lucrative career as a spy?

But I didn’t say that. I couldn’t. And had the roles been flipped, I knew I wouldn’t have been so harsh on my dad. But the truth was, I worried about my mom. Not that she wouldn’t come home, but that she couldn’t. That she’d die somewhere alone and I’d never see her again.

I swallowed hard, locked eyes with her, and spoke firmly. “I will do everything I can for those girls—and any children Zaki and I have—to ensure they grow up happy, healthy, and feeling loved and supported.”

She smiled. “I know you will.” Her smile fell as she turned to gaze out the window. “Cherish every moment, every milestone. You won’t realize how fast they’re going until you wake up one day and your child is driving you to the airport.”

I sucked in a breath. Did Mom have regrets?

“Do you—” I took a deep breath while I found the right words. “Do you wish you hadn’t worked so much when I was growing up?”

Six months ago, I wouldn’t have dreamed of asking such a question. I’d always just been happy enough with Mom visiting. No expectations, no disappointments.

When she didn’t answer right away, my doubts crept in. The last thing I wanted to do was ruin our visit. “I’m sorry, Mom. That wasn’t fair of me to ask you that now, when you’ve come all this way.”

“Don’t apologize, Wyn. The truth is yes, and no. Do I regret missing out on watching my only child—my sweet girl with a bigger heart than anyone I ever knew—grow up? Yes. But my facility with languages and logistics makes me invaluable in my line of work. If I hadn’t been out there, doing what I do … Well, let’s just say there are a lot of people who wouldn’t be alive or free or—” She swiped her eyes and gave a little smile. “And had I been there, I’m not sure you’d be the same person you are today. You’ve got my analytical brain and your father’s tenderness. You’re perfect, in every way, and I have to continue to work to protect you—and others—from afar. But I promise to try to come home more often, if you want me to.”

The satin slipped from my hands, and I stood up slowly and walked to her. I wrapped my arms around her from behind and leaned my head against hers. “Yes. Whenever you can. I love you so much, Mom. And I’m so glad you’re here with me now.”

She nodded and twisted to give me a firm strong hug. “Me, too.”

We held each other, both of us silently weeping until her phone rang. She excused herself and went into the bedroom to take the call. I returned to my machine. By the time the girls returned from camp, I’d only just attached the scalloped trim to the skirt. It would take me all night to bead and applique the bodice by hand. And the long, over-the wrist sheer sleeves...

They’d be the first thing to be scrapped. While required for our church wedding in Montreal, I wouldn’t need them here on the beach. And I could save the train for the Montreal ceremony as well. As I stood at the table gazing upon the pieces and willing the panic not to set in, those familiar strong arms enclosed me from behind.

“Wynna-bun,” Zaki said, the nickname evoking the cinnamon bun accident that once made me think I’d hate him forever. Funny how life worked. He trailed his lips along the shell of my ear. I shivered, and he squeezed me tighter. Weighted blankets and snug hugs always helped to slow my heart rate.

“I’ll never finish in time,” I whispered. “And especially not if I have to attend all the pre-wedding events. Like dinner tonight and activities after.”

“It doesn’t have to be perfect. You could wear a sundress. Save the fancy for Montreal. I want to marryyou,Wynnie, not your dress.”

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