A Marriage in Middlebury. Anita Higman
paying for them.”
“No,” Charlotte said, “you’re not.”
“Yes, I am paying for them.”
“No, you’re not.” Charlotte raised her chin. “And the reason you’re not paying for them is because I’m not giving them to you.”
Sam looked incredulous. “And why not?”
“Because the last thing a bride-to-be wants to eat before her wedding is a box of my cinnamon buns. They’re full of sugar and butter. She’ll never fit into her gown.”
“That’s right,” Edith chirped through the screen.
“Hmm. That didn’t even cross my mind, and I think she already has her dress.”
“You mean you don’t know?” Charlotte asked.
Panic consumed Sam’s expression. “Should I know something like that?”
“Yes.” How could Sam not know that? “It’s the most important part of a bride-to-be’s journey. It’s huge. In hiking terms it’s like planting the flag on the summit. She’ll go with her mother to a zillion bridal shops, and they’ll do this—”
“Audrey doesn’t have a mom.” Sam shuffled his foot against the floor. “Well, not one who’s a part of her life.”
“Oh? I’m so sorry to hear it.”
“Yeah, it’s been hard on her . . . to do all this with no mother to help her. I think that was the reason she sort of latched onto you for assistance.”
“I see.” Guilt took Charlotte by the throat and squeezed.
“Thank you, Charlotte.” Sam tugged on her sleeve. “You’ve saved me. I would have blown it twice with Audrey. But what do you think I should buy her to make up for it?”
“Go two doors down to the flower shop,” Edith hollered through the screen.
“Thanks, Mrs. Mosley,” Sam said back to her.
“Listen, Charlotte. I know Audrey wanted to get with you concerning the wedding reception. She wanted to know if she could drop by and work out some more of the details—”
Edith Mosley lumbered around the screen and appeared in front of them. Her big-boned frame loomed over them like an angry Shrek just as it did when they sat in her history class. “Sam Wilder, did it ever occur to you, that considering you were both in love at one time, that Charlotte might feel uncomfortable helping you plan your wedding? And it might feel awkward for Charlotte to give you advice on how to win your fiancée over after you forgot her birthday?
Sam flushed red—actually, the color of burgundy rosebuds. He looked at Charlotte while he said to Edith Mosley, “It was Audrey’s idea to have Charlotte help with the wedding, but I shouldn’t have agreed to it. I shouldn’t even have come today.”
“You got that right,” Edith said. “What happened to all that sensitivity? You used to be one of the most thoughtful young men I knew. In fact, weren’t you the one who freed all the frogs in science class before they could be dissected?”
“Yeah, that was me,” Sam said. “But I was also the one who set off a stink bomb in your history class.”
“That was you?” Edith’s eyebrows shot up.
“Thanks, Edith,” Charlotte said. “I can take it from here.”
Edith shook her head and then smiled at Sam. “Glad to have you back in Middlebury.” Then she moseyed on back to her seat, mumbling to herself.
Charlotte placed her hand on Sam’s arm, and then thinking it might be misconstrued as too affectionate, she pulled away. “I admit when Audrey asked me to help with the wedding I was surprised. But I really don’t want her left alone to do this wedding. I feel very blessed to have had a mother who loved me, and it sounds like Audrey has never known that joy. I will help her. I will. It’ll be okay, Sam.” And it would indeed be okay. Charlotte would make sure of it.
Chapter 10
10
Sam sat on the steps of Middlebury Chapel and groaned. He couldn’t forget Edith’s comment. He had to be more swine than man for allowing Audrey to ask Charlotte to do the reception. When he told Audrey that he’d dated Charlotte in high school, he hadn’t mentioned the rest—the fact that he’d proposed to her as well. Since Audrey could be a rather skittish person at times, it didn’t feel right to cause her any undue stress. On the other hand, he doubted Audrey would have asked Charlotte to participate in the wedding had she known the whole story.
Stopping by the tearoom had been a disaster all the way around, but it had also been an experiment gone bad. Before he walked down the aisle with Audrey he’d wanted to make certain he could put his feelings for Charlotte safely back in the box where he’d kept them for years. But his little test had only made him more confused, and he’d hurt Charlotte in the process.
Sam lowered his head in his hands and didn’t move for what seemed like an hour. When he raised his head it felt as heavy as a brick. He looked at his watch. Audrey was late for their meeting with the pastor. Wasn’t it always the groom-to-be who was supposed to be late for everything wedding related?
A man in tattered clothes and a scruffy beard came over and without ceremony sat down next to him on the steps. “Hi.”
“Greetings.” The man took a sip from a bottle wrapped in a brown paper sack. He offered Sam a swig.
“No, thanks.”
“Sure.”
They both sat there and stared at a cat lumbering by. Finally, Sam asked the man, “Are you here for the pastor?”
“No, but he’s a friend of mine. He lets me sit on the steps.”
“It’s a good view.”
“I can see the town’s rose garden from here. I can hear Middlebury Creek flowing and the church bells ringing, of course.” The man grinned. “The pastor keeps a cot in the backroom of the chapel when I need it, but as often as I can I like to be outdoors. What do you do?”
“I’m a geologist. Well, I used to be. I’m taking some time off right now.”
The stranger brightened. “Me too.”
“You’re a former geologist?”
“No, the other part. I’m nothing right now.” The man tried to piece together his torn trousers, but they just fell apart again.
The homeless guy seemed to have all his faculties. Sound mind and body. How had he ended up on the street? “The good reverend doesn’t mind you swigging that beverage on the church steps?”
“Wouldn’t matter. It’s not liquor.” He held up his bottle. “It’s a special drink from the tea shop over there.” The man pointed across the square to The Rose Hill Cottage Tearoom.
Sam was having trouble believing the man. He must have looked pretty skeptical, since he held the bottle under Sam’s nose for a whiff.
After Sam inhaled from the bottle, he said, “I don’t really know. Maybe lavender?”
“That had to be a lucky guess. But it’s lavender mixed with Earl Grey. Charlotte says it’s the tea that defines me.” He chuckled.
Who was this guy? Semi-homeless and yet he appeared to be well-educated. He didn’t seem to be young, and yet he wasn’t old. He was covered with so much beard and long hair it was hard to even get a good look at him. “You know, if you’re only drinking tea, why do you hide it in a brown paper bag?”
“I’ve got to keep up appearances, don’t I?”
Sam laughed. “That’s funny, but maybe a little foolish too.”
The man looked him over.