When would this feel like her happily-ever-after? Probably when she could eat more than twelve hundred calories a day. Only rabbits and Victoria Beckham ate that little. She met her mother’s narrowed eyes and straightened her posture. The lace ending at her elbows itched and her armpits felt damp and hot. Cinderella, she was not.
“Are you getting excited about the wedding?” The seamstress crouched at Julie’s feet now, frowning at the dress’s scalloped hem. “This is a great place to get married.” Julie met her mother’s sudden, intent stare and raised a questioning eyebrow.
“It’s like a winter wonderland,” gushed Ashley, a junior bridesmaid. The young teen twirled and her tulip-shaped dress floated around her knee socks before she collapsed on a velvet footstool. With a shrug, Julie looked away, confused by her mother’s curious behavior. Did mothers of the bride get jitters, too?
“You know,” continued Ashley, “like that old movie you made me watch. What was it? White Holiday?”
“White Christmas,” Julie corrected with a smile. “Sheesh. A little respect for the best holiday romance ever.”
“Danny Kaye looks like Conan O’Brian.” Ashley held up her cell phone screen, then passed it around. Surprised exclamations filled the room.
“This place looks like the lodge from the movie, too,” piped up Laura, handing over the smartphone.
Julie’s nerves settled a bit. Yes. She’d always dreamed of a holiday wedding that reminded her of her favorite Christmas romance. After an exhaustive internet search, she’d been shocked when her mother, who avoided the web as though she believed it held real spiders, found it.
Once Julie had spied this quaint, white clapboard inn nestled amid towering pines and taller mountains, it’d been love at first sight. With its Adirondack-style gazebo, an arched wooden bridge over a small stream and Victorian-farmhouse architecture, it had everything she’d imagined. Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that she didn’t belong here.
“They look a lot alike,” Julie agreed, though her voice sounded strained, even to her. Everything was perfect...it had to be.
“Better, I’d say.” The seamstress took out a tiny pair of scissors and snipped at loose threads. “Have you seen it lit up at night?”
“It looks like a fairyland Christmas tree.” Laura rolled onto her back and propped her toes on the hearth. “How do they get those twinkle lights everywhere? Even on the chimney tops?”
“Oh, they go all out here for the holidays. You’re a lucky girl, Julie.” The seamstress removed a pin from her mouth and smiled up at her.
“Yes. Very lucky,” her mother said with a measured look that made Julie squirm.
She knew she should respond, but what more was there to say? She was fortunate. Incredibly so. Mason was an amazing man. A catch. They’d been friends growing up in their small Connecticut town and, when he’d joined her father’s family practice, it’d made sense to take their relationship to the next level. Her diamond ring dug into her palm and she unclenched her hands.
She loved knowing exactly what life with steadfast, sincere Mason would be like. Julie had grown up watching her mother and father, and wanted the same future. She hated surprises. Always read book endings before starting them. Searched out spoiler alerts. Religiously followed the outcomes of her pros-and-cons lists—even the one, eight years ago, that tipped the scales and kept her from leaping into the unknown with someone else... from being someone else...the risk taker she’d tried and failed to become while at college.
She bit the inside of her cheek as her vision curled in on itself, dark at the edges. What was wrong with her? She needed some air. Glancing out the window, she noticed a sandy-haired man stretching at the start of a trail run.
He looked just like...
She leaned forward.
Austin?
Curiosity seized her.
“If we’re done, I’d love to go for a run,” Julie blurted out. She helped the seamstress to her feet. The woman nodded and rubbed her knuckles against her lower back.
Julie peered outside again, tracking the broad-shouldered man as he disappeared around a bend. Could it be him? Was she seeing things?
Dianne braced herself on the arm of the settee and rose, slow and slightly unsteady, her eyes trained on her daughter. In a flash, Julie had her arm around her mother’s waist. She left it there until Dianne grasped her walker’s handles. “We still need to finalize the seating charts. And you haven’t okayed the centerpieces.”
“We can do that later. I really need to get out.”
And clear my head, she added silently. See if the man outside is my ex.
She stepped out of her gown and yanked on the running gear she’d brought. Good thing she’d already planned on the jog. As she walked beside her mother through the door, she heard the seamstress barking orders to the rest of the groaning and griping bridal party.
Poor woman. Julie would personally invite her to the reception as a thank-you for taking this job with such little notice. How many guests would that make? Eighty-five? Eighty-six? Even though it wasn’t a huge wedding, with most of their guests staying at the lodge to take advantage of this ski and spa holiday, it felt almost unmanageable. Thank goodness for the lodge’s upbeat, efficient events planner, Grace.
After knocking to ensure her father wasn’t inside and changing, she inserted the old-fashioned key to her parents’ room and led her mother to the bed.
“I don’t need this much help, Julie.” Dianne clamped a hand around the carved headboard and let go of the walker. “When you and Mason get married, there won’t be any need for you to come over after work.”
“Of course I will.” Confusion twisted through Julie. Didn’t her mother want her to check in? Didn’t she appreciate her company on the many nights her father worked late? “What do you mean?”
Dianne kicked off her heels before lying down. “I’m going to ask Janelle to move in with us. She can have your apartment in the guest house and I’ll have full-time care. She needs a place to stay now that her husband’s gone, and you need to focus on Mason. He’s your priority now, isn’t he?” Her mother raised an eyebrow.
Julie thought of the many evenings Mason, too, worked late, and of his weekend squash matches. Mason filled up his own time card. One of the things he said he loved about her was her undemanding nature; he liked his space. As for her, she liked his dependability. His life ran like a solar-powered watch.
“But you need me, Mom.”
“Of course I do, sweetie. Let’s talk it over later.” Dianne yawned, then squeezed Julie’s hand.
“Are you tired?” Concern spiked. Caring for her mother—and the accounting job Mason had encouraged her to quit so she could finally pursue her passion for photography—had been Julie’s life these past eight years. What would it be like when her free time became her own? Her mind ran over the possibilities and came up pathetically empty. The thought of snapping photos of their suburban town’s car wash and minimart didn’t match the dream that had come to her in college of traveling the globe, capturing the essence of foreign cultures through her lens. She’d wanted to be more adventurous then. Another person. Someone she no longer knew...
“I’m a little tired.” A faint smile lifted her mom’s lips. “Would you shut the curtains? I’ll take a nap until you get back.”
“I’ll bring you tea.” Julie checked her watch. “Your medicines will be due then, too.” Julie headed to the window and stared at the forest trail below, hopeful