Snowbound With The Best Man

“I sure hope so. George is threatening to go on the fritz again, and I hate having to say a prayer every time I turn ignition on the van.” Kelly looked up at this morning’s sunnier skies. “The spring brides can’t get here soon enough. The snow, on the other hand, can take its sweet time.”

“Oh, I know. Josh has been watching the weather reports, too. He’s trying to get out to San Jose and back one more time next week.” Josh and a partner ran a successful software company on the West Coast. While he’d arranged to live here most of the time, work still involved many trips to California. “The last thing I need is for him to be snowbound somewhere in Tennessee with me like this.” She put one hand on her belly and gingerly wiggled the toes that poked out from the bandage.

Kelly squeezed Jean’s hand. “Come on, you know Josh. He’d buy a snowmobile and plow his way over the mountains to get to your side if you needed him.” She returned her gaze upward. There was almost a whole week until the wedding, and mountain weather was nothing if not changeable. Today’s sunshine could easily flee and be replaced by clouds dumping a load of snow into Matrimony Valley. “I’d hate for weather to complicate things for the wedding, that’s for sure.”

“There is always that for winter weddings, isn’t there?” Jean patted her stomach. “The upcoming attraction here and I picked the wrong wedding to stick you with.”

Kelly didn’t want her friend worrying like that. “Hey, every wedding is complicated in its own way. Believe it or not, this couple seems very easygoing. Well, except for the best man, that is.”

“You’re right—he doesn’t sound easygoing at all,” Jean agreed.

“The challenges are all logistical. And those are always easier than the emotional ones, you know that.” She dunked the doughnut from Yvonne Niles’s Bliss Bakery into the steaming cup of coffee Josh had offered her when she’d arrived. They used to do these gatherings outside so that Jonah and Lulu could play before church, but now Josh could be outside with the children while she sat warm and cozy in Jean’s living room.

Jean set down her ginger ale. “So, how many contingency plans do you have?”

“Two,” Kelly replied, gaining a suspicious look from the friend who knew her too well. “Well, okay, maybe four.”

Jean settled back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, let’s hear ’em.” While Jean had often chided Kelly for her controlling tendencies, it had always been a warmhearted, good-natured teasing rather than any kind of reproach. And she was always willing to listen to Kelly’s ideas and plans—the ones that let her feel a little more control over all the potential problems in her path.

“If a storm socks in the Asheville airport, Tina and her parents can divert to Charlotte and we can send someone with a truck to pick them up. Hailey’s got a ‘snowbound special’ all set up to let guests have extra nights at the inn for a discounted price so they won’t feel compelled to leave right away if the roads are bad. Rob Folston’s stocked up on supplies at the hardware store, and Bill Williams said he’d lend out skates and flood the yard in the back of the store to make an impromptu ice rink to entertain stranded guests.”

“All very clever,” Jean said.

“And I convinced Samantha Douglas to come up for a set of exclusive interviews on Thursday so she’ll already be here before the worst of the storm is scheduled to hit—if it hits at all.”

“Brilliant!” exclaimed Jean. “What interviews?”

“Well,” Kelly admitted, “I don’t exactly have those arranged yet. Both Darren and Tina are supposed to arrive that day, so I’m planning both of them if they’d be willing. And...I was hoping a certain mayor would consent to one.”

“Gladly.” Jean smiled. “But it’ll need to be a house call.” She wiggled her toes again, then winced. “Ouch. I really do miss those pain meds. Between my ankle and my stomach, this baby’s going to owe me.”

Kelly opted to shift the conversation away from wedding contingency plans. The last thing Jean needed was additional stress. “Any chance you can make it to the church’s Valentine’s Day party?”

“I hope so.” Jean shifted in her seat. “I can’t just disappear—I’ve got to show up a few places around town. I’ll just be munching on soda crackers rather than any chocolate and cookies.” The mother-to-be sighed. “I miss real food. I’ve been living on crackers, soup, ginger ale and toast. I’m jealous of your doughnut,” she whined. “I’m jealous of Jonah’s peanut butter and jelly, and I don’t even like peanut butter.”

Kelly checked her watch; it was nice to catch up with her friend, but she needed to get going. She ought to be at church early on the off chance prickly Bruce Lohan actually did accept Lulu’s invitation. “Hang in there, Jean. This can’t last long. And just think how thrilled everyone will be when you can announce the baby. Josh looks over the moon as it is—I don’t think this will stay secret for long.”

“My head knows that. My stomach, not so much.” Jean managed a pale smile as she shifted in her seat. “Just keep us in your prayers, okay?”

“You know I will. You sit tight and try not to worry. I’ve got everything for this wedding under control.” Kelly gently hugged her friend. “Tina and Darren will have a terrific event, and Samantha Douglas will run out of superlatives to use in her article. We’ll have next winter booked solid with weddings before the Fourth of July.”

As she and Lulu walked the few blocks toward church with Jonah and Josh, Kelly took stock of all the businesses along the avenue. Bill Williams, who ran the Catch Your Match Outfitters with his wife, Rose, could handle the slow winters. They ran full tilt during the summer not only with wedding guests but with locals who needed to stock up on gear for fishing trips. Wanda and Wayne Watson’s diner never really ebbed or flowed with wedding traffic, but they had seen an uptick in business despite Wanda’s rampant skepticism at the Matrimony Valley idea at first. The diner had been and would always be the place where locals ate—that would never change. Yvonne Niles’s bakery, like Kelly’s flower shop, had the most to gain from weddings. And both women were eager to see their businesses expand.

A fully booked year—think of what that could do for the valley! Weddings were a months-ahead kind of business. A fully booked year would take away so much of the guessing and doubts of her life. With the exception of a few reliable holidays like Valentine’s Day, Easter, Christmas and such, flowers were mostly an impulse purchase, or bought for occasions such as birthdays or anniversaries that were significant only to a single couple—making a single purchase—at a time. A steadily predictable wedding income could mean the world to her and Lulu.

Kelly looked up at the clear winter sky and its assortment of fluffy clouds. You’ve taken enough from me, Mother Nature, she chided silently. Time to cut me a break and just send a pretty dusting of snow. No storm, you hear? The elk wedding needs to be perfect.

* * *

Bruce tried again. “I bet the woods look beautiful this morning. Chock-full of unicorns. Waffles, and then a walk—what do you say?”

Carly flopped over on her bed like a five-year-old heap of drama. “I wanna go to Lulu’s church and make Valentine’s cookies.”

The Almighty wasn’t fighting fair, bringing frosting into this. “You have to sit still a lot during church. Do you remember?” The fact that he had to ask pinched at his conscience.

“I can sit still just fine. I wanna go. Lulu says it’s lots of fun.”

For you, maybe, he thought, trying to envision himself sitting in a church pew again.

“We won’t know anybody there except Kelly and Lulu.” Even as the words left his mouth, they felt like a weak argument. Besides, if almost no one knew him, then maybe no one could do that super-supportive “we want to be here for you” thing that made him cringe.

He looked at Carly’s pleading eyes, aware he was losing this argument. Bruce Lohan had delivered firefighters into blazing mountainsides and pulled rescue victims from raging waters, but evidently he was no match for his daughter’s pout, or God wielding cookies.

And so it wasn’t that much of a surprise that at 9:50 a.m. Bruce found himself standing at the door of Matrimony Valley Community Church, dragging his feet up the steps behind Carly’s insistent pulling.

“Carly!” Lulu greeted happily as they hung their coats on the set of racks just inside the door. “Come sit with us!”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Kelly said, clearly giving Bruce an out if he wanted one.

Bruce actually couldn’t decide which was worse—sitting with Kelly and Lulu or enduring the church service alone. He’d gone to a handful of services after Sandy’s passing, and once Carly skipped off to children’s church he’d felt excruciatingly solitary sitting in the pew alone.

Carly decided for him. “I do. C’mon, Dad.” And with that, she trotted off into the sanctuary holding hands with Lulu as if it were the easiest thing in the world. His daughter had no idea that just walking into the space set a lump of ice into Bruce’s gut that threatened to send him running for the door.

“We don’t bite,” Kelly said. “Well, except maybe cookies.”

“Ha,” he said drily, too tense to appreciate the attempt at humor.

“Consider it a test run for the wedding, then,” she said, starting to follow the girls to a pew that was way too close to the front for his taste. He’d have preferred the far corner of the last pew, but it wasn’t going to happen. “This way, the ceremony won’t be your first time in here. Familiar spaces are always easier, and the day will be tough enough already.”

At least Kelly got how hard this wedding was going to be for him. Other people got it, sort of, but Bruce knew they couldn’t really understand the painful happiness Tina and Darren’s wedding represented for him. Everyone else was caught up—and rightly so—in the happiness that weddings ought to be. He’d been ecstatic on his wedding day, still a tiny bit unbelieving that he’d landed this beauty who seemed so far out of his league. Stunned that the woman who’d left him dumbstruck at their first meeting had actually fallen for the likes of him, just a normal guy.

A normal guy. Funny how “normal” looked so appealing. Something still beyond his reach. And yet, without the weight of his history driving people to smother him with concern, he could almost feel something close to normal here.

Why? Because it was different? Free from the soaking of memory that usually caught him up short? He’d tried to return to church back in Kinston, he really had. But the place just could never be anything but where they held Sandy’s funeral. Kelly talked as if she drew hope and encouragement from her church, but he wasn’t there yet. He wondered if he ever would be again.

Bruce took his seat in the small pew, he and Kelly flanking the girls on either side. He tried to discount the weirdly family-ish feeling sitting in a pew with these three people gave him, finding it ridiculous. He’d known two of them for one day. Just because Carly made instant friendships didn’t mean he had to. Be nice, yes, but get close? No.

Rather than look in Kelly’s direction, Bruce scanned the small sanctuary. Maybe his strange sense of comfort came from the fact that this place looked nothing like the large and fancy church back home. It was a bright and simple space. Peaceful. With the character that came from years and history. Neat but not fancy. Perfect for the kind of wedding Tina and Darren wanted.

Not that sitting here was effortless. More than once one of them had to “shush” the excited girls. Kids were such naturals at instant friendships. Carly’s smiles and stifled giggles were worth a prickly hour in a strange sanctuary, weren’t they?

Except sitting through the service didn’t actually feel that strange. Did he still have a bone to pick with the Almighty? Sure, that wasn’t going to disappear after the mountain of pain he’d been climbing over the past two years. But church itself? Church was different from God, even though he couldn’t quite say why. Church was people. Back home in Kinston, it was nosy, prodding, pitying people with concerned faces and endless hugs. People who said “How are you?” with such an invasive persistence. Church with a bunch of people he didn’t know ended up a lot easier than church with all those he did. The unfamiliarity gave him space to just be, somehow. Was it a deep, spiritual experience? No. But it wasn’t nearly as awful as he’d expected it to be.

Sure, it felt awkward when Carly and Lulu raced off down the hallway with the other children, leaving a gaping space in the pew he and Kelly occupied. He watched Kelly fidget and take pains not to look his way, so he knew she felt it, as well. An uncomfortable awareness threatened to distract him from the service, and he fought to keep his attention on Pastor Mitchell’s message about the true nature of love.

He was relieved no one quoted the “love is patient, love is kind” verse Sandy’s sister had read at their wedding. The message instead focused on the strength love brought to the world. How love stood up against the darkness with God’s relentless care for His people. How love transformed and redeemed. How God’s love could do things that human love so often failed to do: find the good, grow the hope, see the true value. He liked the pastor’s idea that love was a constant outside of human relationships. It helped him think there could and would be love left in the world despite the huge chunk of it that had been ripped from his life. Maybe he wasn’t ready to see that love now, but perhaps he could again someday.

“The best thing about God’s love is that you don’t have to reach for it,” Pastor Mitchell said. “It reaches for you. Sometimes even before you want it or feel ready for it. Wherever you go, there it is. All God asks of you is to turn and see it. Let it in.”

People were always quick to tell him what he needed to do to move on. Join this support group, read this book, do this, stop doing that. Mitchell’s sermon was the first message he’d heard that told him to just be, and maybe crack himself the tiniest bit open. Maybe struggling to escape the fog wasn’t the answer. Maybe he just had to wait for the fog to lift on its own.

And wasn’t that an uncomfortable notion. Waiting? Getting—what had the pastor called it—expectantly still? The very thought made every inch of his insides itch.

When the girls returned for the final hymn, each bearing a generously frosted giant heart cookie wrapped in pink sparkly cellophane, Bruce couldn’t decide if he wanted to stick around or run.

The girls, of course, were busy making plans to spend the entire day together. “Can Lulu come to lunch with us?” Carly asked.

“Well, now...” he hedged, not wanting to be rude, but needing some space after the jumble of his reactions this morning.

Clearly he hadn’t hid it well, because Kelly stepped in. “The grown-ups decided we’d each do lunch on our own.”

They hadn’t, of course, but he was grateful for the out she gave him. “You just spent a whole hour with each other. I think you can live through being separated for lunch.”

A chorus of little-girl moans erupted until Kelly held both hands up. “Enough of that. Carly, we’ll see you at one o’clock.” She turned to Bruce. “Thank you for coming to church with us. I hope you got something out of it.”

He did—he just couldn’t exactly say what.

Chapter Four

“Do you think Carly and Mr. Bruce liked our church, Mom?” Lulu asked as they loaded the dishwasher from Sunday lunch.

“I can’t say for sure, sweetheart.” She’d been surprised that Bruce and Carly had shown for church, but he’d looked unsettled during most of the service, and hadn’t spoken much afterward.

The man was impossible to read. Had he been irritated by the country congregation, or just needed some time to process his reaction?

“Carly’s fun. I really like her.”

I can’t really say the same for her father, Kelly thought. “She seems like a nice friend to have.” She handed a glass to Lulu.

“Carly said our church is tons more fun than the one she used to go to when her mom was alive.”

Kelly felt her heart pinch the way it always did when young Lulu talked about a parent dying in such a matter-of-fact way. It shouldn’t ever be normal, not to any child. And yet Carly’s remark told her a lot about Bruce, didn’t it? He’d been part of a church community, and then cut himself off—for whatever reason—after his wife’s death.

Why? Kelly couldn’t imagine how she’d have gotten through the dark days after Mark’s death without the support of MVCC. The congregation had held her up, prayed her through, even fed her. Though her own parents were far away in Texas, she’d never been alone, but had multiple invitations to choose from on those crushing first holidays and birthdays. How could anyone do it alone like he seemed to have? She wondered if the bruised nature of his soul—and he surely appeared to be a wounded soul to her—had come from that isolation. It made her sad and wary at the same time. Whatever small connection she felt with the man or his adorable daughter had to be tempered by the fact that he was a long way from healing.

“How much longer till they get here?” Lulu whined.

“Oh, just enough time for you to get your math worksheet done,” Kelly said, pointing to Lulu’s backpack on its hook by the door.

“Mom, it’s Sunday. Pastor says it’s rest day,” Lulu retorted, one cocky hand on her slim hips.

“Then maybe you’ll need a nap to pass the time,” Kelly teased.

Lulu rolled her eyes. “Fine. Math is better than naps. But not by much.” She pulled a folder out of her backpack and flopped down on the kitchen counter with a dramatic sigh. “Third grade is hard.”

Thirty-one is harder, Kelly moaned in the silence of her heart. And lately, for a host of reasons, thirty-one alone felt extra hard.

When the doorbell rang twenty minutes later, Lulu scampered off her seat and made it to the door before Kelly even put down the magazine she was reading.

“It took forever!” Carly announced once Lulu mentioned how long the wait had seemed.

Kelly gave a soft laugh at the girls’ enthusiasm. “Remember when two hours was forever?” she asked Bruce.

“Not really,” Bruce replied, scratching his chin.

“Wouldn’t it be great if we got a snow day this week that closed school so you could come over again?” Lulu said as she opened the hall cabinet where the driveway chalk was kept.

“Are we gonna get lots of snow, Daddy? You said Miss Tina wanted to be a snow bride.” Carly clearly thought lots of snow sounded like a marvelous idea.

“Then I’d like four inches, please,” Kelly offered. “Fluffy not icy, with a nice, quiet wind. And sunshine by ten in the morning on the wedding day.”

Bruce furrowed his brow. “Not too particular, are you?”

Kelly gestured out the window. “We look gorgeous in a few inches of snow and bright sunshine. Like a postcard.”

“What about all of Miss Tina’s pretty flowers? Won’t they freeze?” The little girl’s concern was touching.

“No,” Kelly assured her. “I made sure to use flowers just right for a winter’s day.” Kelly was especially proud of the creative mix of winter-hardy amaryllis, anemones and silver brunia balls she’d designed, perfectly accented with pine and red ribbons. Like the cake Yvonne had designed, Kelly was sure nothing matched it anywhere in Asheville.

“Here’s the chalk for hopscotch,” Lulu pronounced, holding up the bucket. Obviously, there was not a minute to waste.

“Hat,” Kelly reminded Lulu.

“And mittens,” Bruce chimed in, for Carly had a hood on her sweet pink-and-purple jacket.

“Mom,” Lulu moaned, followed by a copycat “Dad” from Carly, though both girls obeyed the instructions.

They watched the girls race out the side door without so much as a single look back.

“I feel bad adding to your load on a Sunday...” Bruce began.

“Oh, no,” she cut in, “you’re actually helping. Keeping Lulu occupied can be a bit of a challenge sometimes.” Kelly caught the mix of relief and reluctance in Bruce’s eyes. Was he glad that Carly was so excited to play or sorry she’d left him so eagerly while they were supposed to be on vacation together? All of the above, she thought to herself. Every single parent knows that mix. “I can call you at the inn when they finally wear out, or—” it might be nice to grab an hour of productive solitude while the girls played, but she also had something particular she wanted to ask Bruce about “—I can make some coffee. I’m a big fan of afternoon coffee.”

She was surprised when he said, “Coffee sounds great, thanks.” Maybe he didn’t quite know what he’d do with himself while Carly was occupied. While part of her envied that kind of space in his life—the room to take a vacation without worrying over a million details connected to her job—she also remembered feeling like she’d never fill the lonely hours of her long days in that first year with Mark gone.

Kelly waited until they’d settled at the kitchen island, watching the girls draw and play a round of hopscotch, before she said, “Carly said something to Lulu at church this morning. About the unicorns.”

His look told her he didn’t really want to cover this topic.

She pursued it anyway. “She told Lulu her mother sends the unicorns, and she asked Lulu why they didn’t have any in the valley.”

Bruce rubbed the back of his neck and set down the coffee mug. “I don’t know where this unicorn business came from. She started talking about them the day before Sandy died, when we knew it would be any moment. She was looking out the window as we were getting ready to go to the hospice center and all of a sudden she looks at me and says, ‘Mom’s friend the unicorn is in the woods behind the house.’ Just like that. Like there was nothing unusual about it.” He sighed. “I played along. I mean, what else could I do in all that sadness?”

“That’s not a bad thing,” she offered, hoping to soothe the dismay still lingering in his eyes at the memory.

“That’s what I thought, but then one came—or at least, Carly said one came—every day after that. Her eyes sort of lit up when she told me. I figured it was something she...needed somehow. I mean, for weeks I thought I heard Sandy’s voice in the hallway or saw her out of the corner of my eye after she was...gone. I figured this was the same thing.” He looked down at his coffee. “The child grief counselor didn’t seem to be worried, and I was barely holding it together as it was—I was in no shape to lecture Carly about the dangers of counting on unicorns.” A heartbreaking worry filled Bruce’s expression. “But now that’s coming back to haunt me, since she hasn’t seen them lately.”

“I’m not a grief counselor—a survivor maybe,” Kelly replied, “but from what I can tell, she seems to be coping okay to me.” She glanced out the window where the girls were having a grand time. “There’s still lots of joy in her.” She decided to go out on a limb. “You, on the other hand, look pretty wrung out.”

He shifted his weight and shook his head. “Nah, I’m okay.”

Kelly offered a smile. “I used to say that all the time, too. Long before it was even close to true. Everybody thinks I’m coping great—and most days I am—but there are still days...” She knew she didn’t have to finish the thought.

“Lulu’s been so nice to Carly. Your daughter’s a great kid.”

Now, there was something a struggling single parent couldn’t hear often enough. “Thanks.”

“How old was she when your husband died?”

“Six.”

Bruce swallowed hard. “Carly was only three when Sandy died. Does Lulu remember her dad?”

Kelly’s heart twisted. Wasn’t that the crux of it for everyone in their shoes? “Yes,” she reassured him. “I make sure she does.”

* * *

He could make sure Carly remembered Sandy. The need to do that drummed like a pulse through him every single day. He was glad to hear of Kelly’s success on that front, but it still bugged him that conversations with Kelly Nelson always went places he didn’t want to go. He would have been better off reading a book in his hotel room instead of sitting here asking questions he shouldn’t and having answers pulled out of him he didn’t want to divulge. Why was she able to get things out of him like this? And why had he let her drag him back to church, for crying out loud?