Savour the Moment: Now the Big Day Has Finally Arrived, It's Time To... by Nora Roberts

Author:Nora Roberts
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fiction, General
ISBN: 9780749929039
Publisher: Piatkus Books
Published: 2010-04-30T22:00:00+00:00

THE BRIDE, BLISSFULLY UNAWARE OF THE BACKSTAGE DRAMA, STOOD with her father while her attendants walked toward the flower-drenched pergola. Some brides glowed, Laurel thought, and this one certainly did while the pretty, playful breeze fluttered the gauzy layers of her veil.

Mac changed angles, and Laurel imagined caught that shimmer of joy and anticipation as Sarah turned her head to grin at her father.

“Oh boy! Here we go.”

The music changed for the bride. Laurel saw Sam glance toward Parker, give the faintest of nods. Appreciation or acknowledgment—maybe both. Then he walked his radiant daughter toward the waiting groom.

“So far, so good,” Del murmured beside Laurel.

“It’s going to be fine. Probably better they had their battle before it started. Got it out of their system.”

“There won’t be any more trouble.” Parker’s tone was cold as January ice. “At least not from that source.”

“What did you say to the father?” Del wondered.

Parker’s smile would have frozen flame. “Let’s just say I’m confident the MOB and SMOB will behave in a civil manner, that Vows will be compensated for the additional hair and makeup fees, the gown repairs, and all damages.” She patted Del’s chest. “And we won’t need your services to collect.”

“I need to go finish the setup.” Laurel checked her watch. “Not that far off time, considering.”

“Do you want some help?” Del asked her.

“No. Go ... get a beer or whatever.”

She went back to her kitchen, where it was quiet and cool. Where she could sit for just a couple of minutes. Listening to Bibi had depressed her, and she needed to shake it off.

Loveless marriages, unhappy homes, the X factor of another woman. She knew exactly the sort of miserable brew those ingredients created—and how long the bitter aftertaste could linger.

Surely Sarah had tasted some of that brew, and likely more than once. Yet she’d stood beaming joy on her father’s arm. The father who’d been unfaithful to her mother, the father who’d broken the very vows she herself was about to make.

Yes, she understood unhappy marriages, but she didn’t understand and couldn’t accept using that unhappiness as an excuse or rationale for being unfaithful.

Why didn’t people just end it? If they wanted someone else, or something else, why not break it off clean first instead of cheating, lying, tolerating, just existing?

Divorce couldn’t be more painful for a couple, or the child or children stirred up in that brew with them, than the deceit, the pretense, that smoldering anger. Wasn’t that why, even after all these years, a part of her wished her parents would walk away from each other instead of pretending to be married?

“Well, and here I’ve come in to see if I can help since you had all that trouble.” Mrs. Grady fisted her hands on her hips. “And here you are loafing.”

“I’m about to get to it.”

Lips pursed, Mrs. Grady walked over to tap Laurel’s chin up so their eyes met. “And what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing. Nothing really.”

Mrs. Grady had a way of using her eyebrows in certain expressions that had very clear nonverbal meanings.

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