Page 48 of Never Marry the Best Man (Whatever It Takes #4)
Check ceremony setup
Check cocktail stations
Check dinner tent, catering tent, dancing tent
Check communication devices
2:00:
Check it all again
One month later
Ranney
“Do you feel all right?” As Ranney stood squinting up at the main tent’s highest peak, Nessa materialized in front of her. “You look very pale.”
“Yes, of course, I’m fine. I just forgot to put lipstick on.”
“I know this is going to be hard for you, Mom. I think I saw him a little while ago, going into the pro shop with Charlie, but I was too far away to be sure.”
“Well, he must be here somewhere, Ness. He’s the best man now,” Ranney said irritably.
A change in groomsman had happened two weeks ago, par for the course in their business, and now Tom's profile was even higher at this wedding. Poor Jack and Sophie's baby was in the NICU, and Tom stepped in. “And it’s not a big deal. We’re just acquaintances.”
“Mom. You slept with him. You're still married to him. You’re more than acquaintances.”
“Mmmm.”
Rolling her eyes, Nessa added, “Also he’s your husband.”
“Can we please just let that go? A husband is someone who loves you and lives with you and you intend to spend your lives together, okay? He’s your best friend, or at least he’s supposed to be.
Not someone you tried to help out with a work problem and now you regret it.
” Almost inaudibly, her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat.
“Matt is going to be your husband. Tom is going to be… my ex-nobody.”
“If you say so. But at least for this weekend, he’s somebody–the best man at this wedding. You're at work. There’s no avoiding him.” Giving her mother a hard look, she added, “You want to borrow my lipstick?”
“No, thank you,” Ranney answered tartly. “I’m good.”
“Okay. Where’s Ani?”
“It’s 2:40. According to the schedule, she’s getting dressed. I think we should do the same.”
They started across the stone terrace toward the main lodge of the Buckthorn Country Club. A two-story wall of glass looked out over the rolling green landscape of the golf course and the Texas Hill Country stretching beyond, seemingly to infinity.
“I always thought of Texas as flat and dry and dusty,” Nessa commented, turning to admire the view. “I had no idea it was like this, so green.”
“It’s a big state,” Ranney replied, understating things considerably. “A lot of it is flat and dry, and empty. But then there’s this, too.”
“And there’s so much going on in the city. I could imagine myself living in Austin. I wonder if Matt’s ever been here.”
“It might be a little warm in August,” Ranney suggested, in another feat of understatement. “Are you two thinking of relocating?” Her stomach had twisted in dread of the answer; she’d always known this day might come, but oh please, not today. Or tomorrow or next month or all this year…
Keeping her tone light hadn’t been easy but she must have managed it, because Nessa’s reply was calm and nonchalant. “No, not really. Just fun to imagine a different life sometimes.”
Phew .
“I know what you mean. I play that game every time I go somewhere new–a little bit, anyway. Could I eat this food, shop at this market, be comfortable in this climate? Wear a sari?”
“Drive on the left side of the road?”
“Why do you ask that?” Ranney snapped.
“No reason, just thinking of adjusting to different ways of life. That’s a pretty obvious one. Don’t be so touchy.”
“I could take the Tube,” she said softly, after a moment. “I wouldn’t need to drive.”
“I don’t know,” Nessa was looking at her mother speculatively. “I would have to love someone an awful lot to drink tea every afternoon instead of coffee.”
“Who’s talking about love?” Ranney said crossly. “It’s just a thought exercise. But you’re right about the tea. And I can’t stand British accents.”
“Hmm. Well, I’m going up to my room to change. And call Matt. Are you coming up?”
“I think I’ll just take a minute here. It’s really beautiful. I’ll meet you in half an hour?”
“Forty-five minutes,” Nessa countered, moving off before Ranney could argue.
The terrace was bordered by a low stone wall, and Ranney walked over to it and sat down.
Set-up for the wedding was almost finished but still in progress and workers were crisscrossing the grounds, going to and from the tents.
It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, so the course was dotted with golf carts and groups of golfers, and other club members–some with children–headed in the direction of the pool.
The faint but unmistakable thock-ing sound of a pickleball game told her there were courts nearby but out of sight.
Nessa’s passing comment about moving to Austin had rattled her.
It wasn’t that she was unprepared for that; Nessa had been away at design school for four years.
True, that was in New York, only a three-and-a-half hour drive from Boston and right on the Amtrak line.
Weekend visits were easy and Nessa had been home for summers and breaks.
But even so, Ranney knew plenty of moms, both single and married, who had gone into a tailspin when their children went off to college.
Not her. She worked, she saw her friends, she took advantage of all the city had to offer. Maybe it was a little quiet, but children grow up.
You can’t pretend you don’t see it coming.
After graduation, Nessa moved back home while she looked for a job.
Working at Wedding Protectors started as a part-time, temporary gig, something to do until her real career took off; no one had predicted that she’d settle in and be a success.
She found her own little apartment, life had moved forward, and now she and Matt lived together while they planned their own wedding.
Ranney had never felt alone, never even thought about it seriously. Until now.
A daughter who was away at school and a daughter who was making a life in another time zone were two very different things.
On a path below where she sat, a blonde woman in a pink tennis dress walked with a little girl wearing a similar outfit. They were holding hands and swinging their arms, not a cloud in the sky or a worry in the world, and Ranney’s eyes filled with nostalgic tears. Those days seemed very long ago.
“It’s not the same Texas you see in Landman , is it?” Male voice, British accent. Uh oh.
“What? Oh, no, it’s not. How are you, Tom?”
“Better now that I have someone to talk to. I must be the oldest best man in recorded history. When I checked in, they asked if I was the father of the groom.” He touched his temples. "Must be the gray."
“They did not!” She laughed, enjoying the sight of him. Oh, how she'd missed his gentle humor.
“I swear.” He raised his hand, palm forward. “I’m thinking of buying one of those Texas-cattle-rancher hats, what’s your opinion?”
“Very masculine but I’m not sure you’d get much use out of it in Boston. Very few ranches there.”
“I suppose you’re right. I could wear it when I come to visit Chunk, though. I quite like it here.”
“You and Nessa. They do say it’s a young person’s city.”
Ignoring that, he said, “How have you been, Ranney?”
And she would have been fine if he hadn’t looked searchingly into her eyes when he asked, if his voice hadn’t sounded like he actually cared. She would have answered, “Fine, thanks, and you?”
Instead, without breaking his gaze, her own voice low, she said, “I am so sorry, Tom. I didn’t–that night was a complete misunderstanding, I?—”
“No, no, all in the past! Just wondering, you know, how work is going for you. Quite well, from the looks of things here. How’s Mame?
I still intend to drop in and visit with her.
Preferably at cocktail hour, you might warn her.
” His tone of voice had slipped smoothly back to social and superficial, and he was no longer looking deeply into her eyes.
Another misread cue, apparently.
“I’ll… tell her. She’ll be so pleased.” Social and superficial.
“Good, yes.”
Neither of them said anything more and they stood there until awkwardness set in. Finally he looked at his watch.
“Oh, gosh, look at the time! I’d better go and get dressed.
There are speeches to give, young women to escort, Champagne to be delivered to elderly ladies.
” He smiled and turned away, then quickly turned back and added, “Oh–speaking of elderly ladies, my mother’s here, flew in for the event. I’ll have to introduce you.”
And he was gone.