Page 33 of A Winter's Wedding

With as sideways as things were, there was only one thing left to do; call in reinforcements.

Leo took his phone out and texted Vivian, America’s mother, and hoped she was getting service wherever they were.

SOS.

…

America needs you ASAP.

What happened?

Long story, but she’s refusing to get back in the car and go home.

Where are you?

Buffalo still

Hold tight. We can be there in a couple hours. Anything I should know?

We accidentally got married in Vegas. She’s wracked with guilt over lying to everyone, and now everything is going wrong. Dress destroyed. Credit card declined. Come quick.

Chapter19

Carol had never wanted to have a housekeeper more than she did now following a long sleepless night. Instead of rest, she forced herself to deal with her emotional baggage in the only way she knew how; by cleaning out every inch of her home. However, no amount of sparkling and dust free surfaces made her feel better.

Maybe she had been wrong, all those years ago, for how she had reacted to her father’s threats. Maybe she could have told Edwin the truth. And maybe she could have saved herself from alienating all the people in her life who ever wanted to care about her, instead of throwing up walls wherever she could. Over the years, she had been very good at cramming it away for a long time, something she prided herself on, but now that same pride was causing her grief and pain.

Needing a bolt of energy, she put the kettle on and ignited the gas stove below. While the water boiled, she sat at the little kitchen table where a scattered pile of photographs lay. Images of her youth stared back at her like ghosts through time. After high school, she had run away and never planned on coming back, nor did she want to remember the life she left behind. No matter how hard she tried to move on, there was this place, this Cove, and that man who held a piece of her heart, calling to her.

Picking up a polaroid from the dispersed stack, her past laughed at her. In the image, she stood beside a young Edwin, shoulder to shoulder in their formal wear, and in the background, a skulking father with a bottle of something dangling from his fingertips. Carol had been so blind to just how bad things really were back then, until the night of the winter formal.

She closed her eyes and imagined how that night should have gone. Dancing in the snow, with the man she was falling in love with. A kiss. A sweet embrace. A possible future where she and Edwin could have been happy.But dreams don’t usually come true, she thought and tossed the photo back to the table as the kettle whistled.

She turned the flame off, and poured the hot water into a little teacup. While the tea steeped, she gathered the photos and shoved them back in the old shoebox. She rubbed her neck, sore from using the vacuum and mop all night. Carol didn’t need a stroll down memory lane; she really needed one of those spa days, only she didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts any longer.

Just as she finished her thought, the house phone rang. She only hoped it wasn’t Pa. “Hello?”

“Carol. I’m so glad you’re home.” Carol was relieved to hear America’s voice coming through the receiver. “I tried your cell but?—”

“This storm. It’s been a mess. Are you almost home? Please tell me you are.”

“Why? What’s the matter?” America said.

“Oh, nothing with the wedding. We have all that under control just like you planned. It’s just—I could really use a friend,” Carol said and stirred the darkening liquid in her painted teacup.

“You sound… tired. Or sad?” America said, and of course, she could hear it in Carol’s voice. “What’s happened?”

“Do you have time to talk? I’d rather just speak when you get home. I’m sure Leo doesn’t want to hear all about my problems.”

“He’s not here,” America said, staccato.

“Where is he? Wait, where are you?” Carol couldn’t think of a good reason why they would be apart, unless they had stopped for gas or something along the way.

“I am at a diner. In Buffalo. I don’t know where Leo is, and I don’t care.”

“America Greene, maybe it’s you who needs to talk to a friend,” Carol said and suddenly felt like her problems weren’t as time sensitive as America’s seemed to be. “This is why you called?”

“I told him I wished this whole marriage thing hadn’t happened at all. Everything is a mess. More than you know.”

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