Would a woman like Liv ever settle down? Did the idea of marriage seem old-fashioned and outdated to someone as free-spirited and modern as Liv?
“Dad, you look like you’re going to pass out. Are you sure you tied that thing right?” Noah asked, suddenly pulling me out of my mini panic attack.
“What? Oh, yeah, it’s fine.” I pulled at the fabric around my neck, which now felt like a vise.
I just needed to take things slow.
Slow and steady wins the race I tried to convince myself
I’d managed to do the impossible. The woman who had never believed she’d fall in love had fallen straight into my arms, and I wasn’t about to lose her.
I’d make Liv my wife—or I’d die trying—even if I had to use a cane to walk myself down that damn aisle.
~Liv~
“So, you’re going back to the mothership, huh?” Mia laughed into the phone.
“Cute. That’s really cute,” I said as half my body was nearly eaten by my closet.
“Why do you sound so muffled?”
“I can’t find my other beige high heel,” I grumbled.
“Well, I can’t imagine why. They’re your favorite pair,” she answered sarcastically.
I managed half an eye roll before I found the other one, hanging out near the back of the closet. It was coated in probably five years’ worth of dust.
“I know, but I didn’t know what else to wear. It’s not like I have a wardrobe for political fundraisers anymore. Just what my father needs, is for me to show up in a sundress and turquoise wedges.”
“At least you would be showing up as yourself,” she said.
“Hush, you.”
“Are you sure about this? I mean, after the dinner party and the newspaper article—”
“I’m sorry about that. I really am. I called Clare the morning after to apologize and I told her that I didn’t mean to make the evening awkward.”
“Liv, stop. You know I didn’t mean it like that, and you don’t have to explain family drama to me. We grew up together, remember? Drama is my middle name. I just meant, you’ve been stressed since the minute he called. Is it worth it?”
“Is having your dad back in your life worth it?” I knew the answer before she even uttered it.
“Point taken. Carry on. But please at least find a different pair of shoes. I don’t even need to see those things to know they are hideous.”
I was still laughing when we hung up. She was right. The beige pumps were awful.
Knowing how much Jackson loved purple, I’d selected a similar shade, going with a deep burgundy. The gauzy fabric was still light enough for the weather but provided the elegance needed for the occasion. Plus it had the added bonus of being incredibly comfortable. Searching around further into the recesses of my closet, I found a gold pair of high-heeled sandals that worked perfectly with my dress.
I added a delicate pair of earrings to finish the look when the doorbell rang. I spritzed a bit of perfume and grabbed a beaded handbag. Then, I made my way downstairs to greet my men.
Pulling the door open, I smiled at the two faces awaiting me.
“Feeling awfully formal today, aren’t we?” I said, commenting on the fact that they’d rung the door rather than just marching in as they usually did.
“Well, it is a special occasion…and damn, you look mighty fine.” Jackson stepped forward to kiss me sweetly.
“Did you know that whenever you get cheeky, your accent deepens?” I smiled.
“Or maybe you just bring it out of me.”
His thick Southern drawl melted me like butter.
“Does he sound like Michael McConaughey?” Noah asked.
My hand flew up to my mouth in an attempt to hide the giggles.
“It’s Matthew, and oh, yes, he does—better actually,” I answered smoothly after I recovered from my snickering.
Jackson’s eyebrow lifted as he gave me a cocky grin. “You ready to go fraternize with the rich people for an afternoon?”
“So excited,” I answered.
He held out an arm, and I took it. We headed for the car, and it felt like we were making our way to the other side of the world. I was going back to a place I hadn’t been to in years—my parents’ house.
Everything looked the same, yet it didn’t.
The same weathered fence still stood proud and tall, surrounding the old house from intruders. As we got the go-ahead and were let inside the iron gate, I still felt that tiny flutter of awe as we approached the house I used to live in as a child.
It really was breathtaking. Built in the 1800s, it had been completely renovated and remodeled to its former glory, still maintaining the historical integrity without looking worn-out or tired. Walking through this house was like talking a step back in time, minus all the Jags and Mercedes parked out in front.
We pulled up behind another car, and I laughed as Jackson nearly jumped out of his seat when an attendant opened his door.
“I thought you were a fancy lawyer.” I watched him drop his keys into the other man’s hand.
He walked around to take my hand. “A fancy lawyer who parks his own car,” he corrected.
“Sexy.”
Noah joined us from the backseat, and the three of us approached the front door. As I lifted the heavy brass knocker, I suddenly felt like Dorothy with her band of misfits, approaching Emerald City’s gates. Would we be turned away or welcomed with opened arms?
A bearded man did indeed answer the door, but he was not covered in green, and no color-changing horses were in sight as we stepped through the double doors.
I looked around at the house where I’d grown up, taking in the slight changes and upgrades. The floors had recently been polished, no longer carrying the heavy grooves and dents of the years. A couple of new pieces of furniture sat in the formal living room next to a grand piano I remembered from my youth.
A few people milled around the interior of the house, pointing at various pieces of sculptures or paintings, but the majority of the guests had made their way outside, which was where we were also headed.
Jackson said nothing as we made our way to the back garden. He just clutched my hand as he rubbed my thumb with his own, silently supporting me, while I tried to keep the ghosts of the past at bay. I knew my parents were making an effort to make up for all the heartache and pain, but that didn’t keep the hurt from surfacing. The sudden reappearance of my parents’ affection couldn’t erase eight years of loneliness in an instant, and as I wandered through the house that had once brought me so much joy, those truths became abundantly clear.