Read Online Something Borrowed, Something Bleu by Cricket McRae - Free Book Online Page B

wedding-related antics hovering in the back of my mind.

     
     
    Not until after a dinner of grilled trout, green beans, and caprese salad—made with tomatoes and basil from Anna Belle’s kitchen garden and the tennis-ball-sized round of fresh mozzarella I’d brought home from class—did I have a chance to follow up with my mother regarding my wedding.
But first I stopped by my old bedroom to say goodnight to Erin. I found her sitting in bed, Kitty Wampus draped across her legs. The beast cracked one eye when I came into the room, then gave a languid stretch and returned to full slumber.
Erin barely glanced up from her Philip Pullman novel when I sat on the edge of the bed.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” she mumbled.
“I bet you miss Brodie, huh.” Her corgi was staying with our neighbor, Mrs. Gray, while we were gone.
She shrugged. “I guess.”
That was weird. She loved that dog.
“Erin.”
She looked up at me from under her eyebrows without raising her head.
“Are you mad at me? Did I do something?”
“No.”
“Then why are you acting like this?”
Big sigh from Erin. “Acting like what?”
“Well, like you’re mad at me.”
Yet another shrug. I felt like putting her in a straitjacket.
I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Listen—when you want to tell me, I’ll be here to listen. Okay?”
Our eyes met for a few moments. Raw vulnerability shone from hers. “I’m sorry I haven’t been very nice.”
“Can you tell me what’s going on?”
She blinked and shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Erin—”
“Can I read now?” She returned to her book, effectively ignoring me.
I leaned back and watched her for a few moments. Yes, something was definitely up. It almost made me feel better to know that, because it meant that this bright and funny girl had not somehow morphed into a rude pre-teen. This wasn’t about attitude, or at least not only about attitude.
She’d tell me or Meghan when she was ready. But she’d better be ready soon, because I was getting tired of being treated like an enemy.
As I’d expected, Anna Belle was working at her desk. I cleared a pile of books off one end of an old carved bench and sat down, leaning my back against the wall.
“What are you working on?” I asked.
She pushed the pile of papers aside. “Finals. Marketing 101. Summer course.”
I took the bull by the horns. “You mentioned something earlier about wedding details?” There: my voice was calm, my words carefully chosen to sidestep conflict.
She dropped her red pen on the desk blotter and leaned back in her chair with a satisfied look on her face. “Not much. Just checked on the schedule of a certain judge who lives near that perfect venue we’ve talked about. Oh, and I talked to a friend of mine who’s a florist, and she had some very nice suggestions for arrangements.” Suddenly she was gushing. “What do you think of gerbera daisies? Have you decided on your colors? And are you planning to wear white? I know it’s not strictly traditional for second weddings, but more and more people are doing it, you know. It’s perfectly acceptable.”
She launched to her feet and began pacing behind the desk while I looked on, slack-jawed. “We really have to get the invitations put together first. Good Lord, Sophie Mae, you haven’t left much time for planning, now have you? I’ll tell you what: Get me a guest list by tomorrow, and I’ll get right to work on ordering the invitations.”
“Stop,” I said.
“At least we won’t have any problem booking the Horseshoe Guest Ranch, given it belongs to your future in-laws, but—”
“Stop.”
This time she stopped. Stared at me. “Now, you weren’t serious about not having a real wedding, were you?”
“Absolutely. Positively. Is there any other word I can use to get that through your head?”
Her excitement and high energy disappeared, as if all the air had been released from her balloon. “I talked to Cassie Ambrose, you know. She’s thrilled at the idea of you and Barr getting married at their place.”
I sighed. Barr’s family