A Week Till the Wedding

And then her parents had been killed and everything had changed.

Jacob had tried to be there for Daisy. He’d held her while she’d cried; he’d stayed with her through the funeral arrangements and—later—the legal details of the estate and guardianship. But eventually his new job had called him away, and he’d gone. He’d truly believed that they would be able to make a long distance relationship work until the time came when Daisy—and her sisters—joined him. The job offer he’d received had been too good to turn down, it had been exciting and he’d made enough money right off the bat to support himself, Daisy and her sisters. All he had to do was get settled and send for her.

But it hadn’t worked that way. There hadn’t been any spectacular blowup, no emotional scene. They’d simply drifted apart. It had been easy to do, with him working night and day in San Francisco and Daisy caught up in raising her sisters and taking over the family businesses here in Bell Grove, Georgia. Her dad had trained the girls from the time they could walk to tune an engine. Beauty school had taken care of the rest. If she’d come to San Francisco or if he’d stayed here, maybe they’d still be together. But she hadn’t and he hadn’t. And they weren’t.

So here they were, seven years later. They’d both changed. Everything had changed. Well, perhaps not everything. Jacob was annoyed to admit that he wanted Daisy. She wasn’t like any other woman. She could look at him, and he felt it to the bone.

A long time ago he’d convinced himself he was over her, but as soon as he’d laid eyes on her he’d realized how wrong he’d been. If he was over her, the curve of her cheek and the sway of her hips when she walked wouldn’t drive him wild. If he was over her, he wouldn’t continually find himself edging closer so he could inhale her scent. Dammit, he wasn’t over her at all.

The past was coming back to bite him in the ass, even though logically he knew they were no longer the same people. If he spent a significant amount of time with Daisy he’d soon realize that they had grown apart. He wasn’t the same; neither was she. Whatever he felt was annoyingly lingering chemistry. Nothing more.

It was announced that dinner was on the table, thank goodness, ending the conversation about wedding gowns and family reunions and surprise ceremonies. Jacob took Daisy’s arm and escorted her to the dining room, hoping that the meal would serve as a distraction. He didn’t miss the slight tremble of her body, even though outwardly she did her best to remain calm. Dammit, he shouldn’t have asked her to do this. He should’ve found a way to take care of the situation without asking Daisy to torture herself.

And him.

His mom didn’t cook, but that didn’t mean the family didn’t eat well. Lurlene Preston had been in charge of the kitchen for thirty years, and no one cooked a good old-fashioned Southern meal like Lurlene. The meal that was laid out was definitely a welcome distraction. Jacob didn’t eat this way when he was in California. Not that he could’ve gotten fried chicken, turnip greens, fried okra and fried green tomatoes, served up with a mess of cornbread, in San Francisco. Even if he could’ve found those foods in a specialty restaurant, they wouldn’t have been the same. The smells and tastes transported him back to his childhood, to family dinners followed by the front porch swing or an hour or so spent working on whatever car he was remodeling at the time.

He and Caleb—they were the middle boys of the four, and Caleb was almost two years older than Jacob—had both had an interest in rebuilding cars from the age of fourteen or so on. It was something they’d enjoyed doing together, even though they didn’t have much else in common. Jacob hadn’t touched an engine since he’d moved to San Francisco. He didn’t even change the oil in his own car. No, he paid someone else to do it for him. Jacob hadn’t missed tinkering with engines at all, hadn’t even thought about that old hobby until he’d come home.

Funny how the scents of his youth were the ones plaguing him this week. Food. Engine oil. Daisy. Daisy, most of all.

For a while they enjoyed a reprieve from wedding talk. Everyone talked about the weather, the food, baseball and the upcoming football season and the relatives who were not in attendance. Daisy was quiet in the beginning, and she just picked at her food. But after a while she relaxed. She ate, participated in the conversation and completely and totally ignored him.

Which was good, in one way. He could stare at her all he wanted, and she wouldn’t realize that he studied the gentle curve of her jaw and the tempting length of her neck. He didn’t dare look any lower—not for more than a split second here and there—for fear that she’d turn in his direction and catch him with his eyes on the swell of her breasts. He knew better. He didn’t ogle women. But this was Daisy, and he might never get another chance.

Their reprieve ended as peach cobbler was served. Grandma Eunice began again to discuss her plans for the wedding. The ceremony would be held Sunday afternoon of the three-day Tasker Reunion, she’d decided. It would be the culmination of the annual event, a formal wedding to be held in the house. Family only, since space would be an issue. Besides, Grandma Eunice added with her nose in the air, family was all that mattered.

She looked at him as she added this last dig. It wasn’t a secret that she was annoyed at Jacob for throwing himself so wholeheartedly into his career, for not coming home and taking his place here. The Taskers owned interests in several successful restaurants, a department store—there were three locations, now—a steel mill and a sock factory. Jacob’s grandfather and great-uncles—three of them—had gone into business together. They’d done well. These days this branch of the family was the most prosperous, but Jacob had many cousins—close and distant—who continued to hold a portion of old family businesses.

He could’ve taken a job at any one of them, or else begun working with his mother with the objective of eventually taking the reins from her. But he was determined to make it on his own, to be independently successful. Yes, his ambition had taken him away from his family for too long, he could admit to that. Was that why when his grandmother’s mind had started to go she’d immediately honed in on this wedding business? Was she, somehow, determined to see him married to a local girl before she died so he’d be tied to Bell Grove in yet another way?

Jacob had hoped his grandmother would forget about having Daisy try on her wedding dress before the meal was done, but no such luck. No, she was anxious to see Daisy in the gown, prepared to get Lurlene to take care of any alterations that might be necessary. Daisy paled at the thought, he caught a hint of a return of that tremble that told him how hard this was for her, but she played along. The four women left the table and headed for Grandma Eunice’s suite of rooms. Years ago, when she’d first started having trouble with the stairs, they’d converted the library and sitting room on the ground floor for her.

When the women had gone, Jacob stared at his dad and his brother—one and then the other. “Why didn’t you tell me she was this bad?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

His father shrugged his shoulders. “It happened so fast. She’s had trouble remembering some things for years, but we thought it was normal, related to her aging. Then all of a sudden she’s losing whole blocks of time. Months, years. The doctor says the memory loss could be caused by any number of things, but … I don’t know.”

Ben nodded his head. “I know we don’t get here often enough, but I swear, one time when we saw her she was fine. Sharp as a tack. A couple of months later she doesn’t remember who Maddy is.”

They hadn’t been paying attention, if they thought this had come on suddenly. That wasn’t the way dementia worked, unless it was a sudden side effect of a medication or an infection. Those possibilities had been checked and rejected. Jacob couldn’t very well complain to his father and younger brother about their lack of attention to the family matriarch. He hadn’t been home in years, so he could hardly jump all over them for not understanding the small changes that had turned into big ones. But dammit, they were here.

“She needs a more competent doctor.”

“Good luck getting her to agree to that,” Jim grumbled.

“You have to make it happen,” Jacob snapped.

“She’s agreed to see someone after the reunion. She wouldn’t even agree to that much until you came home. That’s a step in the right direction.”

A step that should’ve been taken months ago. Jacob decided not to argue any longer with his father, who was maddeningly laid-back about the entire situation. Arguing was a waste of breath, apparently.

“Daisy looks great!” Ben said brightly, happy to change the subject.

“Yes, she does,” Jacob agreed sourly. Too great.

“How on earth did you get her to agree to this? I figured she’d tell you to take a hike.”

He’d love to be able to tell Ben that he’d bought Daisy’s cooperation, but she’d taken that option away from him. “She’s doing it for Grandma Eunice, not for me. They always did get along well.”

Ben snorted. “I wish she and Maddy could find a way to get along. Grandma Eunice never approved of my wife, she never liked her the way she liked Daisy. Not once did she offer to let Maddy wear her wedding dress.” He shook his head. “Not that Maddy would’ve worn the old thing.”

Ben’s wife was very pretty, but she was also very flashy. Madison had made the mistake of wearing a very short dress to the house the first time she’d had dinner here. According to Susan, Grandma Eunice had never forgiven that infraction.

The men retired to the parlor for scotch and cigars, an old tradition that had survived many, many years in this household. Jacob passed on the offered cigar but took the scotch. Just one. He had a feeling he was going to need the fortification in order to get through the rest of the evening.

Eunice watched as Daisy followed her instructions and very carefully removed the wedding gown from the wardrobe. Eunice had had the dress—more than sixty years old and as beautiful as it had been the day she’d worn it—removed from storage as soon as she’d heard that Jacob was coming home.

Daisy was a beautiful girl. More than that she was a sweet girl, and a strong woman. She’d make Jacob a good wife.

Playing at being completely off her rocker was easier than she’d imagined. And more fun. Maybe it was a little bit mean, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Jacob hadn’t been home in five years. Five years! And that time he’d flown into Atlanta one day and out the next, barely home long enough to say hello to his immediate family. Family was important. Family was everything!

Only one of her four grandsons—Ben, who had not chosen wisely—was married. Caleb and Luke were both older than Jacob, and neither of them had married. Well, Caleb had tried when he’d been a younger man, but she’d had cheese last longer than that marriage. She’d deal with the other two soon enough, but the situation with Jacob was critical.

No one knew it, except for Lurlene and Doc Porter, but Eunice had become quite good at browsing the internet with her laptop computer. The family thought she used the laptop for playing solitaire, and sometimes she did. But when no one was watching she browsed the internet with the best of them. A few weeks ago she’d run across an alarming photo that had sent warning bells off in her head. Jacob, at some highfalutin event, a skinny brunette in a tiny black dress clinging to his arm …

If she didn’t do something he would marry a woman just like the one in the picture. Maybe not her, exactly, but someone like her. Shallow. Bony. Caring about nothing but money and possessions. They’d have one or two spoiled kids who’d grow up to be totally worthless, and she’d be lucky to see Jacob again before she passed even if she lived to be a hundred and twenty.

He’d lost his way. It was up to her to help him find his way back again. Daisy Bell was a big part of the plan. Eunice didn’t believe for a minute that they weren’t still in love.

All she had to do was remind them of that fact. She had two and a half weeks to get it done.

“Try it on,” she instructed. Eunice looked at Susan and Madison. She narrowed her eyes, squinting at Madison. “Who are you? Are you the seamstress? I thought Lurlene could handle any alterations, but Susan, if you think it’s best that we hire someone …”

Madison’s lips narrowed. “Grandma Eunice, it’s me, Maddy. I’m married to Ben, remember? We’ve been married almost two years.”

Eunice had practiced her confused expression in the mirror countless times, and she called upon it now. Her eyes widened and she blinked fast several times. She puckered her mouth, very slightly before saying, “Ben isn’t married! Why, he’s much too young.” Seven years ago, when Jacob and Daisy had been together, Ben hadn’t been married. He hadn’t even known this whiny girl. Oh, if only she really could turn back the clock.

Eunice didn’t like Ben’s wife much. The girl didn’t dress properly, wore too much makeup, didn’t go to church every Sunday and couldn’t carry on an intelligent conversation to save her life. The last thing she’d read had probably been the side of a cereal box.

But Daisy … Daisy was sharp as a tack. She had her priorities straight. She went to church every Sunday, and that was a plus even if she was a Methodist. She’d sacrificed for her family, and that made her the kind of woman Jacob needed. And fast.

Eunice reminded herself, not for the first time, not to get too carried away. If she seemed to have really lost it, they might decide to lock her away somewhere, or the doctors they’d threatened to call in would show up long before the reunion—and the wedding. She needed to appear to be just a little bit crazy, not entirely cuckoo.

One way or another, she would get what she wanted.

Madison stormed out of the room, near tears. Daisy stared after her. Poor girl. She was so upset about Eunice’s condition.

Daisy carefully placed the gown across Eunice’s bed. It was so old she was afraid to touch it, much less try it on! The satin was a soft ivory, and the cut of the gown was surprisingly sleek and simple.