Page 84 of Make-Believe Match

“We’re enjoying the moment.” I went to the sink once more, and Devlin followed me, placing his bowl and utensils on the counter.

“Can I do the dishes?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about—”

“What a marvelous husband!” Gran interrupted. “Lexi, darling, take him up on it, and you come upstairs with me. I have something for you.”

Devlin took me by the shoulders and steered me away from the sink. “Go. I’ve got this. Dash and I were always on dish duty after dinner in my house.”

“Okay. Thanks.” I followed Gran out of the kitchen and up the stairs, which she climbed slowly, with one hand gripping the banister. She talked the whole time.

“I was just thinking—and of course, I don’t mean to meddle too much—wouldn’t it be nice to have some sort of party for you here? To celebrate your marriage?”

“It’s not necessary.”

“But I didn’t get to see you walk down the aisle, or say your vows, or see the groom kiss the bride! And I know a Las Vegas wedding is legal, of course, but it’s not sentimental. It’s not traditional. Don’t you want a wedding ceremony with something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue?”

“I wore a blue sweatshirt,” I said as we finally reached the top of the stairs. “You saw the picture.”

She sighed as she shuffled down the hall past my old bedroom toward hers. “That’s not what I meant.” Ambling over to her closet, she opened the door and looked up. “I’m not sure I can reach. Can you help, darling? It’s that white hat box.”

“Of course.” I went over and lifted down a white box. The thick layer of dust on its surface made me sneeze.

“Bless you. Sorry about the dust—I haven’t taken it down in years. Not since you and Tabitha used to ask to play dress-up with it.” She lifted the top off and took out her veil. Gently shaking it out, she placed it on my head, tucking its comb into the hair at my crown, and smiled. “There. See? Go look in the mirror.”

I didn’t want to, but I saw no way out. Reluctantly, I turned toward the corner of the room, where an old cheval mirror stood in a wooden frame.

And there I was in Gran’s wedding veil. I bit my lip.

Gran appeared behind me, her eyes misty as they met mine in the glass. “You look like a dream,” she said, placing her hand on her heart. “And I just want to see it come true.”

“I don’t know, Gran. Snowberry is going to be all torn apart in the next few weeks, and—”

“It doesn’t have to be immediate,” she said. “We could wait for the refurbishment to be complete. How would that be?”

“I’ll talk to Devlin,” I said, vowing that I would not walk through the motions of my dream Snowberry wedding wearing Gran’s veil as part of this charade.

My grandmother beamed. “That’s all I ask.” Then she paused. “Well, that plus some great-grandchildren, but one thing at a time.”

* * *

Devlin and I threw ourselves into the remodel headfirst.

We scheduled appointments with contractors and designers and restauranteurs. I contacted everyone with reservations and explained we were closing for the season for renovations, and while there were some complaints, most of the guests had been loyal to Snowberry for years and were excited to return once the work was complete. We decided to keep one lift running on weekends for daytime hikers, although that would have to stop when the snow fell.

Tabitha was giving me the silent treatment, which made me nervous, but Devlin remained relatively unconcerned, especially once the power of attorney forms had been signed.

Still, I worried my cousin was up to something. It wasn’t like her to be so quiet.

One morning, Gran informed me that Tabitha wanted time off to go visit her father in Florida.

“Would that be okay?” Her expression was apologetic. “I’m sorry to ask you to work longer hours, darling. I know you’re a newlywed and want to be spending time with your husband.”

“It’s fine, Gran.” Actually, I’d be less stressed without Tabitha hovering. “I don’t mind at all. Truthfully, we’re not that busy. The last few reservations are this weekend, and then we’re closed to guests.”

She sighed and looked around the lobby. “It makes me sad to think of this place empty for the holidays. It’s always so magical at Christmas.”

“It will be magical again, Gran.” I smiled. “Not just in the winter either.” On my lunch break, Devlin and I were going to grab a golf cart and drive up to Otter Lake, which was at the north end of the property. I’d pitched some ideas for expanding our summertime offerings, like renting paddle boards or kayaks or putting in a fishing dock, and he wanted to see the area for himself to gauge its potential. “Trust me.”