“You can yell at me if you want. I wouldn’t blame you for hating me.”
“I don’t hate you.” Lauren wasn’t sure what she felt. But the negative emotions were draining away as if someone had pulled a plug. She didn’t want to throw her tattered childhood in her mom’s face. Maybe she’d wanted to earlier, but not now. Not seeing her and looking into her war-torn eyes.
“How can I help you then? I’ll do anything you want.”
Lauren thought a moment. Thought about those happy little flashes from her earliest years. They were short and vague and left so many gaps.
“I’d like you to tell me about when I was little,” she said.
Chapter 37
Lauren slipped into the grand kitchen to check on the champagne. Mr. Carrington was just about to offer congratulations to his daughter and future son-in-law, and everyone needed a glass.
A young server passed with a tray of champagne, and a dozen more trays were loaded and ready to go. She’d hired her previous employer as caterer, and Mercy was doing a great job.
“Speech in five minutes,” Lauren told her.
“We’re on it.”
Lauren stepped back into the fray of the party. Glitter didn’t ordinarily do private events, but Mr. Carrington had been one of Ella’s big corporate clients. He’d approached Lauren about the event in early January, after his daughter’s Christmas engagement. Olivia had agreed that they should cater to the client in this case.
It had been a quickly planned affair, but since the event was to be held in their home, she didn’t have to secure a venue last minute. The party’s atmosphere was beautiful and inviting—the bayside mansion didn’t hurt matters—and the event had gone off without a hitch so far.
Moments later Mr. and Mrs. Carrington gathered the attention of their guests—about a hundred of their closest friends and relatives—and congratulated the couple.
The bride- and groom-to-be, who were about Lauren’s age, flushed happily as they gazed into each other’s eyes.
The toast was made, glasses were raised, and Lauren smiled as Mrs. Carrington gathered her daughter in for a heartfelt embrace. The two were very close, you could just tell. She took Cassandra’s face in her hands and said something that made her tearful daughter laugh.
Lauren wondered if she and her mother could ever have that kind of intimate relationship. Perhaps too much time had passed. Time they’d spent apart, each living their own lives. But her visit to the woman’s apartment last week had gone better than she’d hoped. She’d stayed for two hours and left completely drained.
But hopeful. They were meeting for coffee next week. It was a start.
Lauren turned her attention to the happy couple. The announcement finished, people gathered to offer their own congratulations. She zeroed in on the groom’s face. He looked quite ordinary really, with brown hair and an average face. But his beaming smile and the light in his eyes when he gazed at Cassandra made him extraordinary. His love for her was written all over his face.
Would anyone ever look at her that way again?
“You did a fantastic job with the party, Lauren.” Mrs. Carrington approached, tucking a dark, curly lock behind her ear. “And on such short notice. I was worried when Greg told me Ella was retiring. She’s been handling his events for years.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you’re happy. Your home is so beautiful and inviting, it really didn’t take much.”
“Oh, you’re being too modest. I’ve had to throw a party or two myself—enough to know it is not my forte.” Her head tilted as she studied Lauren, brown eyes twinkling. “I don’t suppose you plan weddings, do you, dear?”
Lauren laughed. “I think Glitter would draw the line there.”
“Oh, well, it never hurts to ask.” The woman squeezed her arm. “We’ll be sure to recommend you to Greg’s business associates. You’ve got a real talent for this.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”
Mrs. Carrington waved at someone across the room, giving a broad smile. “You’ll have to excuse me. My great-aunt is about to tell me why my dress doesn’t suit my coloring and complain our chairs are uncomfortable.” She winked.
After she left Lauren began collecting empty flutes. While she worked she took stock of her emotions. She was feeling a bit unsettled, which made no sense. This event—the first one she’d planned start to finish—had gone off without a hitch. Her clients were pleased. She would soon be recommended among a very elite set of corporate types. And still she was feeling vaguely—there was no getting around the word—depressed.
She thought back through the past few minutes when her mood had taken a hit. The toast, the happy couple, the mother-daughter moment. All of it had stirred up a bit of melancholy. But it was Mrs. Carrington’s question about planning a wedding that had stolen the air from her party balloon. The comment had dredged up thoughts of the barn venue she’d worked so hard on. Of Pinehaven. The Landrys.
Jonah.
She thought of that engagement ring tucked away in a safe on the lodge’s second story. The ring he’d bought for her. Her gaze drifted to the happy couple across the room, chatting with another couple their age. She and Jonah could’ve been engaged right now. She could’ve been wearing that ring on her finger. But she’d fallen and hit her head and now she was here in Boston, alone.
