Vision in White
Page 59
Rising, Parker stepped to the easel that was set up. “We have photos that will show you overviews and details of what we’ve done in the past, what we can do, but as your wedding will be unique, we’re using sketches of our vision for your day.”
She removed the cover from the first sketch. “Fairyland,” she said, and Mac imagined each of her partners felt the same quick thrill she did when the bride gasped.
“I THINK WE GOT IT. DON’T YOU THINK WE GOT IT? GOD, I’M exhausted.” Emma sprawled out on the sofa. “And a little sick. I ate too much candy to calm my nerves. Don’t you think we got it?” “If we didn’t, I’m taking up a collection to order a hit on Kathryn Seaman.” Laurel propped her feet on the stack of albums on the coffee table. “That woman is tough.”
“She loves her daughter,” Parker commented.
“Yeah, that came through, but God, we practically bled wedding perfection here, and couldn’t get her to commit.”
“She’s going to. Otherwise we won’t need the collection. I’ll kill her myself.” Rubbing her neck, Parker paced. “She needs to think it over, discuss it with her husband, just as Jessica has to talk it over with Josh and get his take. That’s reasonable. That’s normal.”
“Kate drives the train,” Mac pointed out. “I think she just wants to torture us. She was completely sold on the royal palace wedding cake.”
Laurel gnawed her lip. “You think?”
“I was watching her, I started watching her like a cat watches a mouse—or maybe I was the mouse and she was the cat. But I was watching her. Her eyes gleamed over that cake. I could hear her thinking, ‘Nobody’s getting that palace of a cake but my baby girl.’ We hit every note. Both of them got dreamy over Emma’s dogwoods and fairy lights. And the tulip cascade bouquet? Jessie wants it for her own. Then Mom casually mentions her husband’s two left feet, and Parker reaches into her magic collection of business cards and pulls out a personal dance instructor.”
“That was a good one,” Emma agreed. “Anyway, Mom wants what Baby wants, and Baby wants us. I can feel it.” She let out a sigh, pushed herself up. “I’ve got to go pot up fifty-five narcissus for a wedding shower. Everybody take some tulips.”
“I’m going to go see if my car’s back. I have an outside shoot and a bunch of errands.” Mac looked at Parker. “If she didn’t show, can I borrow your car?”
SOME PEOPLE, PARKER THOUGHT, WOULD SAY SHE WAS INTERFERING, that this was none of her business. Some people, she thought, didn’t know her.
She fixed problems. And if she didn’t at least try to fix one for her oldest friend, then what was the point in being a fixer in the first place?
She walked into Coffee Talk determined to do her best, for everyone.
The Sunday night crowd set up a low hum of conversation. She could hear the whoosh of the frother, the buzz of the grinder as she glanced around. She spotted Carter at a two-top, and putting on a smile walked over to join him.
“Hi, Carter, thanks for meeting me.”
“Sure. You had an event today.”
“This afternoon. It went very well.” No point in wasting time, she thought. “Mac was unhappy and upset, but she put that aside for the clients.”
“I’m sorry I upset her.”
“And she you. But,” Parker continued before he could speak, “her mother’s at the root of it. I imagine all three of us know that, even if we react to it differently.”
“She was embarrassed. Mackensie. She didn’t need to be. Not for me.”
“Her mother will always embarrass her.” Parker glanced at the waitress who stopped at the table. “Some jasmine tea, thanks.”
“Coming right up. Dr. Maguire?”
“That’s fine. Two of those.”
“Carter, I want to give you a little background, so you understand the why of it all. What you and Mac do about it, that’s up to you.”
As she spoke, Parker pulled off her gloves, loosened her coat. “I don’t know how much she’s told you, and she’d be royally pissed at me for expanding on whatever she has, but here it is. Her parents divorced when she was four. Her father—and she adored him—walked away from her as easily as he did Linda. He’s a careless man. Not calculating like Linda, just careless. He grew up privileged, and with a nice fat trust fund. That may seem hypocritical coming from me, but—”
“No, it doesn’t. You and Del, your parents, you always contributed. That’s the word for it.”
“Thank you. Geoffrey Elliot just goes where he likes, does as he pleases, and prefers to avoid any sort of upheaval. Linda shoves, pushes, wheedles her way through life. She got a very nice settlement from Mac’s father, and blew through the bulk of it.”
She smiled. “Children hear things, even when they’re not supposed to know what they mean.”
“There had to be child support.”
“Yes. Mac was housed and fed and clothed very well. So, of course, was her mother. They both remarried before Mac was seven. Linda divorced again within two years.”
She paused as their tea was served. “After that, there were a lot of men, a lot of love affairs, and a lot of drama. Linda feeds on drama. Geoffrey divorced again, and married again. He has a son with his third wife, and they spend most of their time in Europe. Linda has a daughter by her second husband.”
“Yes, Mac told me she had two half siblings.”
“They rarely see each other. Eloisa spent, and spends, a lot of time with her father, who obviously loves her very much.”
“That must’ve been hard. To see her sister have that, while she didn’t.”
“Yeah. And because it was, for the most part, only Mac at home, Linda expected, demanded, used. It’s her way. She married again. Every time she married, they moved to another house, another neighborhood. Another school for Mac. Linda pulled Mac out of the academy when she divorced her third husband. Then put her back in, briefly, a couple of years later because, it turned out, she was involved with a man—a married one—on the board of directors.”
“No stability, ever. Nothing she could count on,” Carter murmured.
Parker sighed. “All of her life, Mac’s had her mother weeping on her shoulder over some slight, some broken heart, some trouble. Linda was raised to believe herself the center of the universe, and she did her best to raise Mac to believe it, too. She’s a strong woman, our Mac. Smart, self-reliant, brilliant at what she does. But this vulnerable spot is like an aching wound. Linda continually yanks the scab off. She grew up with callousness, and fears being callous.”
She removed the cover from the first sketch. “Fairyland,” she said, and Mac imagined each of her partners felt the same quick thrill she did when the bride gasped.
“I THINK WE GOT IT. DON’T YOU THINK WE GOT IT? GOD, I’M exhausted.” Emma sprawled out on the sofa. “And a little sick. I ate too much candy to calm my nerves. Don’t you think we got it?” “If we didn’t, I’m taking up a collection to order a hit on Kathryn Seaman.” Laurel propped her feet on the stack of albums on the coffee table. “That woman is tough.”
“She loves her daughter,” Parker commented.
“Yeah, that came through, but God, we practically bled wedding perfection here, and couldn’t get her to commit.”
“She’s going to. Otherwise we won’t need the collection. I’ll kill her myself.” Rubbing her neck, Parker paced. “She needs to think it over, discuss it with her husband, just as Jessica has to talk it over with Josh and get his take. That’s reasonable. That’s normal.”
“Kate drives the train,” Mac pointed out. “I think she just wants to torture us. She was completely sold on the royal palace wedding cake.”
Laurel gnawed her lip. “You think?”
“I was watching her, I started watching her like a cat watches a mouse—or maybe I was the mouse and she was the cat. But I was watching her. Her eyes gleamed over that cake. I could hear her thinking, ‘Nobody’s getting that palace of a cake but my baby girl.’ We hit every note. Both of them got dreamy over Emma’s dogwoods and fairy lights. And the tulip cascade bouquet? Jessie wants it for her own. Then Mom casually mentions her husband’s two left feet, and Parker reaches into her magic collection of business cards and pulls out a personal dance instructor.”
“That was a good one,” Emma agreed. “Anyway, Mom wants what Baby wants, and Baby wants us. I can feel it.” She let out a sigh, pushed herself up. “I’ve got to go pot up fifty-five narcissus for a wedding shower. Everybody take some tulips.”
“I’m going to go see if my car’s back. I have an outside shoot and a bunch of errands.” Mac looked at Parker. “If she didn’t show, can I borrow your car?”
SOME PEOPLE, PARKER THOUGHT, WOULD SAY SHE WAS INTERFERING, that this was none of her business. Some people, she thought, didn’t know her.
She fixed problems. And if she didn’t at least try to fix one for her oldest friend, then what was the point in being a fixer in the first place?
She walked into Coffee Talk determined to do her best, for everyone.
The Sunday night crowd set up a low hum of conversation. She could hear the whoosh of the frother, the buzz of the grinder as she glanced around. She spotted Carter at a two-top, and putting on a smile walked over to join him.
“Hi, Carter, thanks for meeting me.”
“Sure. You had an event today.”
“This afternoon. It went very well.” No point in wasting time, she thought. “Mac was unhappy and upset, but she put that aside for the clients.”
“I’m sorry I upset her.”
“And she you. But,” Parker continued before he could speak, “her mother’s at the root of it. I imagine all three of us know that, even if we react to it differently.”
“She was embarrassed. Mackensie. She didn’t need to be. Not for me.”
“Her mother will always embarrass her.” Parker glanced at the waitress who stopped at the table. “Some jasmine tea, thanks.”
“Coming right up. Dr. Maguire?”
“That’s fine. Two of those.”
“Carter, I want to give you a little background, so you understand the why of it all. What you and Mac do about it, that’s up to you.”
As she spoke, Parker pulled off her gloves, loosened her coat. “I don’t know how much she’s told you, and she’d be royally pissed at me for expanding on whatever she has, but here it is. Her parents divorced when she was four. Her father—and she adored him—walked away from her as easily as he did Linda. He’s a careless man. Not calculating like Linda, just careless. He grew up privileged, and with a nice fat trust fund. That may seem hypocritical coming from me, but—”
“No, it doesn’t. You and Del, your parents, you always contributed. That’s the word for it.”
“Thank you. Geoffrey Elliot just goes where he likes, does as he pleases, and prefers to avoid any sort of upheaval. Linda shoves, pushes, wheedles her way through life. She got a very nice settlement from Mac’s father, and blew through the bulk of it.”
She smiled. “Children hear things, even when they’re not supposed to know what they mean.”
“There had to be child support.”
“Yes. Mac was housed and fed and clothed very well. So, of course, was her mother. They both remarried before Mac was seven. Linda divorced again within two years.”
She paused as their tea was served. “After that, there were a lot of men, a lot of love affairs, and a lot of drama. Linda feeds on drama. Geoffrey divorced again, and married again. He has a son with his third wife, and they spend most of their time in Europe. Linda has a daughter by her second husband.”
“Yes, Mac told me she had two half siblings.”
“They rarely see each other. Eloisa spent, and spends, a lot of time with her father, who obviously loves her very much.”
“That must’ve been hard. To see her sister have that, while she didn’t.”
“Yeah. And because it was, for the most part, only Mac at home, Linda expected, demanded, used. It’s her way. She married again. Every time she married, they moved to another house, another neighborhood. Another school for Mac. Linda pulled Mac out of the academy when she divorced her third husband. Then put her back in, briefly, a couple of years later because, it turned out, she was involved with a man—a married one—on the board of directors.”
“No stability, ever. Nothing she could count on,” Carter murmured.
Parker sighed. “All of her life, Mac’s had her mother weeping on her shoulder over some slight, some broken heart, some trouble. Linda was raised to believe herself the center of the universe, and she did her best to raise Mac to believe it, too. She’s a strong woman, our Mac. Smart, self-reliant, brilliant at what she does. But this vulnerable spot is like an aching wound. Linda continually yanks the scab off. She grew up with callousness, and fears being callous.”
