Page 66 of Hearts Aweigh
E IGHT STEPS.
It took exactly eight steps to cross the outer balcony opposite the chapel.
Spencer knew the distance well because he’d paced it for five minutes.
Where was Daisy? Considering he’d given the Shippers a mere ten minutes to change his mind, the delay confused him.
His brain had calculated every argument his mother might use and prepared a proper response.
No one and nothing would talk him out of marrying Abby.
The door opened, and Spencer braced himself. Daisy’s pink suit matched the shade of Madeleine’s flower girl dress. This doting grandmother in no way resembled the cold, proper woman of his childhood.
He firmed his jaw. “Well? Let me have it.”
A tender smile adorned her lips. She walked over, slipped her hands under his arms, and wrapped him in a warm embrace. The subtle scent of magnolias teased his nostrils.
Spencer froze. Two hugs from his mother in one week. It must be a record.
After a few seconds, she drew away and captured the decorative timepiece around her neck. She yanked hard. The delicate gold chain snapped. Extending her fist, she unclasped her fingers to reveal the watch.
“I remember when your father gave me this gift .” Her tone hardened at the word. “It was on our wedding day. Naive, starry-eyed girl that I was, I presumed it symbolized his never-ending love for me. I soon learned differently.”
The broken necklace strands swayed in the sea breeze.
Daisy’s fingers closed. She faced the billowing waves.
“When he and I were courting, he waited for me without complaint as I primped and powdered. But after the marriage ceremony, his patience ended. This gift was his way of telling me he wouldn’t wait again.
” Her head bowed. “You’re more than aware of your father’s insistence on punctuality. ”
Spencer’s shoulders constricted at the very mention. As a child, he’d spent many hours locked in his room because his lateness had affected his father’s schedule. The controlled Julius Masterson never once hit him, but the emotional punishment he’d inflicted was acute.
He studied his mother’s profile. The wind whipped the sides of her sleek silver bob against her cheeks. Her sophisticated nose wrinkled in a sniffle.
“I’m so happy you’ve found Abby,” Daisy said.
“If you’re happy, why are you interrupting our wedding?”
“She’s not ready.” Daisy turned. “And neither are you.” She opened her fist. The miniature clock face glinted in the sunlight. “It’s not too late, Spencer. Your father browbeat every kinder emotion out of you. Or tried to. But I believe my sweet, sensitive little boy is still in there somewhere.”
She spun and pitched the watch. Spencer reached out. Too late. It sailed through the air and disappeared into the wavering deep surrounding the MS Buckingham .
He clapped a hand to his forehead. “That was a family heirloom. Dad stated in his will it should go to Madeleine.”
Her eyebrow lifted. “Doesn’t it strike you as odd that your father bequeathed other people’s possessions in his last will and testament?
I suppose he never truly gave the piece to me.
Just loaned it awhile for his own convenience.
Everyone and everything in Julius Masterson’s family belonged to him.
He intended they should adhere to his well-ordered, punctual routine, even beyond the grave. ”
The cold sting of fear Spencer used to experience at his father’s censoring glare crept through him. His neck prickled as if a ghostly, disapproving specter stood behind him.
Daisy placed two hands over his. Her skin was cool. Soft as cashmere. With so many more wrinkles than he remembered.
“Sugar, don’t live in the cage your father built.
” She caressed his thumbs. “It’s not too late for you.
Or Maddie. You can live a happy, disorganized, hectic life if you choose.
” She laughed. “Abby will certainly help with that. But you must allow her to do it at her own pace. Time is one of the greatest gifts you can give a person you love.”
She embraced him again. Spencer hesitated. Five seconds. Ten. Then he returned the hug and clung to her. His mother’s words battered his conscience, but he shut his mind.
There must be some other way to give Abby time than canceling the wedding. He’d agree to whatever she wanted to do after their marriage. Even if it required moving to a different city. He’d relinquish his home, his connections, his business. All to be with her.
The door beside them opened, and his bride stepped onto the balcony. There she was in her cream dress, her red hair glinting in the sunlight. Abby. If he loved her this much after three weeks, how would he feel in fifty years?
His mother pulled away and smoothed her hair. “I’ll leave you two alone.” She entered the chapel and closed the door behind her.
Spencer walked the eight paces to the end of the confined space, his back to Abby. “Well? Did they convince you what a bad risk I am?”
Footsteps drew close. Her arms encircled him from behind. Her warmth enveloped him as it always did. He relaxed and laid his hands on top of hers.
Perhaps the wedding would still happen.
Abby spoke. “You’re mighty fine in your fancy suit.”
He swiveled, caught her close in almost desperation, and lowered his head for a kiss.
She tasted sweeter than a cupcake. But no matter how many kisses she gave him, he knew he’d never be full.
He allowed an inch between their lips. “You look even better in that dress than your princess costume.”
She smacked him. “Stop.” A flicker of apprehension entered her gaze. “I’m afraid we’ll have to save these outfits for another day, Spencer.”
His muscles grew taut. So the Shippers had done their worst. The wedding was off.
Abby smoothed her fingers against the lapel of his jacket. “I wanted to ignore Emily’s arguments for postponing, but the more she talked, the more I realized she was right. We need time to get to know one another. Rushing into things might hurt everyone. Especially Maddie.”
The bitter taste of rejection swelled in Spencer’s mouth.
God, I can’t do this. Not again!
He tried to remember the Bible verses he’d read to calm his nerves before the ceremony, but instead his mind recalled the doubts.
Abby didn’t want him. Like every other woman in his life. His mother. His ex-wife. What was it about him that drove people away?
At least Priscilla had the decency to give it a try before she dumped him.
Abby’s voice drifted into his consciousness. “I’m not saying I don’t—”
“I comprehend perfectly.” Spencer nodded once. “You’ve decided you don’t want to marry me. Thank you for coming to the realization before it got messy.”
“That’s not what—”
“If you’ll excuse me, Madeleine and I should prepare for our arrival in Galveston.”
He lowered his arms and attempted to leave. Abby locked her hands behind his back.
Spencer kept his eyes averted. “Please release me.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” She pressed closer. “I can’t hear the cynical mumbo jumbo running through your brain, but you’d better tell it to shut up.”
He zeroed in on her face. Her smile held adoration and understanding and, dare he hope, love? Abby pressed her cheek against his body.
She groaned. “I’m probably smearing makeup all over your coat, but I don’t care. I love you, Spencer. I’m not rejecting you, and I’m not letting you go. I’m just asking for a little time.”
That word again. Time. The first piece of motherly advice Daisy had ever bestowed upon him turned out to be correct.
He rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “I know. The fact I want to marry someone I met three weeks ago floors me. It’s only possible because”—his fingers brushed the vibrant curls on top of her head—“because it’s you.”
She snuggled closer. “Then could you please participate in this hug?”
He crushed her to him, an odd mixture of sadness and peace swirling inside. He knew they had to wait, but now that he’d admitted the unhappy truth, the Lord’s gentle voice echoed in his spirit, confirming it was the right choice.
“I love you too,” he whispered. “What do we do now? Am I going to rack up the frequent-flier miles between Louisiana and Florida?”
She propped her chin on his chest. “They have schools in New Orleans. I bet one of them would love to hire someone with my unique talents.”
His spirits lifted. “You’d be willing to move?”
“Try and stop me. Maddie begins kindergarten this year. Who’s going to help her buy new clothes? If I left it to you, she’d always be dressed like it was picture day.”
A school wardrobe? He hadn’t thought that far ahead. Parent orientations. Homework. Girl stuff he knew nothing about. A wave of father fatigue ambushed him.
Abby giggled. “Wipe that panicked look off, mister. I’ll be there to help. And if Maddie ever has another ‘tummyegg,’ I can rush over and make my special peppermint tea.”
Spencer cupped her cheeks and rewarded her with a lingering kiss. The shorter curls that had escaped from the bun tickled his nose. He raised his head with a moan. “We won’t wait long, will we?”
Her answering grin was a mixture of innocence and mischief. “Not one day longer than we have to.”
Spencer shot a glance at the sky. “God, give me strength.”
She grasped his lapels and tugged him down. Her lips met his in a passionate promise for the future. Spencer allowed his worries to dissipate in the force of her overwhelming love.
No doubt about it. They might need a step stool in every corner.