The Bridesmaid's Gifts Page 5

  “But a little dull,” she interpreted, reading easily between the lines. “You probably won’t ask her out again. I told you she wasn’t right for you.”

  He shook his head in obvious exasperation. “Maybe you can introduce me to Ms. Right,” he muttered.

  “I can’t introduce you, but I can tell you that you’ll know when you find her. And you will find her.”

  “A seer, are you?” he teased.

  She didn’t smile in return.

  “You’re crazy.”

  Aislinn flinched in response to Ethan’s blunt words. “I’m not crazy.”

  “Then you must think I am. Because there is no way I’m buying whatever it is you’re trying to sell.”

  “I’m not trying to sell anything, Ethan. I just…know.”

  “You don’t know anything.” He took the photograph out of her hands and set it a bit too forcefully back into place on Joel’s bookcase. “I think you’d better leave now.”

  She sighed wearily. “I knew you would react this way.”

  “Did you? Well, hell, maybe you are psychic.”

  He stalked to the doorway, pausing there with one hand motioning for her to precede him. It wasn’t a request.

  Though she moved past him out of the bedroom, she wasn’t ready to completely give up. “If you would just let me tell you what I—”

  “I’m really not interested.” He kept walking, straight toward the front door, making her have to hurry to keep up with him. “I know Nic thinks the world of you, and Joel seems to like you, too, so I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you really believe the things you say. Maybe you’ve guessed correctly so many times that you’ve convinced yourself you really do have some sort of gift. But this time you’ve taken it too far.”

  “Don’t you think I know how bizarre this sounds?” she retorted. “Can’t you understand how hard it was for me to come here, knowing how you would respond?”

  “Then why did you come?”

  She sighed and pushed her hands into her pockets. “I had to,” she muttered. “I couldn’t sleep last night and I knew I wouldn’t be able to rest until I talked to you about the…about the feeling I had about your brother.”

  “And just when did you get this…feeling?”

  The slight note of mockery behind the word wasn’t lost to her, but she answered evenly, “Last night. At the reception. When you touched me, I—I knew there was something I had to tell you. I wasn’t sure what it was until later, during the night, when I got…I don’t know…some sort of a mental image of this photograph. When I looked at it, when I held it, I knew what I had to tell you.”

  Ethan’s expression didn’t change during her halting, stumbling explanation. She swung out her hands in frustration. “I know it sounds crazy! I spent most of the night wondering if I really have lost my mind. I don’t have visions, Ethan. I don’t get flashes when people touch me. Like you said, I make guesses—and they usually come true. But this is different. This isn’t something that has ever happened to me before.”

  “Really?” He made no effort to hide his disbelief. “How about last year, when you kept calling Nic in Alabama to warn her that something bad was going to happen to her?”

  “I told you—that was a feeling. Just a vague sense of uneasiness that made me worry something might go wrong. The sort of premonition ordinary people get all the time.”

  Ordinary being the operative word. It was all she had ever aspired to be.

  Ordinary.

  Normal.

  He shook his head. “Coming into my brother’s house, going into his bedroom, telling me Kyle didn’t drown thirty years ago—that’s not the sort of thing ordinary people do, Aislinn.”

  She swallowed. “I know.”

  Letting his breath escape in a long, slow exhale, Ethan pushed a hand through his hair, leaving it even more mussed than it had been before. “I’m not sure what I should say here. I’m not very good at this sort of thing. Maybe you should get some help. You know, see someone. If you need me to call anyone—a friend, maybe, a family member—just tell me the number.”

  Oh, great. Now he was trying to be nice even as he suggested that she should be taken away in a straitjacket.

  “You know what, Ethan? You’re right. I shouldn’t have come here,” she snapped, moving toward the door. “I should have known how you would react. I did know, but I thought I could persuade you to listen. I was wrong about that, but I wasn’t wrong about Kyle. He didn’t die in that flood. He’s very much alive.”

  He didn’t respond, but she hadn’t really expected him to. She grabbed the doorknob and jerked open the door. She’d stepped only halfway through when she turned to throw one last reckless comment over her shoulder.

  “You want a real, live prediction from a real, live freak? Fine. Your parents are on their way home. They’ll arrive just fine, but they’ll be delayed by several hours because they’re going to have a blowout in a little town just inside the Alabama border. The left rear tire, and it’s going to take them a while to have it repaired. So figure out how I ‘guessed’ that, why don’t you? I certainly don’t know.”

  She slammed the door behind her with enough force to rattle the diamond-shaped glass pane in the center. And still it didn’t seem hard enough to express the full extent of her anguished frustration.

  Ethan was trying his best to concentrate on his work when the telephone rang later that afternoon. Glancing at his watch, he decided it was exactly the time his parents should be arriving safely at their home, probably without any untimely delays at all. “Hello?”

  “Hey, bro, it’s Joel.”

  So he’d guessed wrong. “What are you doing calling on your honeymoon? You don’t have enough to keep you entertained there?”

  Joel chuckled. “Trust me, I’ve got plenty to do here. I just forgot to do something yesterday and I wanted to ask you to take care of it for me.”

  “Sure. What is it?”

  “There’s a stamped envelope on my desk, made out to the American Cancer Society. It’s a memorial for one of my patients that I meant to mail before I left—but, well, I got kind of distracted yesterday. I just remembered it and I hate to let it wait until I get back. So would you mind sticking it in the mailbox for me later?”

  “No problem. It’ll go out first thing tomorrow.”

  “I appreciate it. So how’s everything else? Any problems there in the house?”

  “Joel, you’ve been gone less than twenty-four hours. The place isn’t going to fall apart just because you aren’t here.”

  His younger brother chuckled ruefully. “I’m turning into Dad, aren’t I?”

  “I’m not going to lie to you, kid. You’re sounding a lot like him. Now go concentrate on your beautiful bride and quit worrying about things here.”

  “Nic wants to say hello.” He handed the phone over before Ethan had a chance to send his regards through Joel.

  “Hi, Ethan.”

  He answered in patient resignation. “Hi, Nic. Did you forget to mail something, too?”

  “No, I think I took care of everything,” she replied, missing the joke. “Have you seen my family today?”

  “I saw them earlier. Your brother came over to tell me goodbye as he left for the airport. He asked me to keep an eye on your mom’s house while I’m here.”

  “Oh, good. I was going to ask you the same thing.”

  “I’ll tell you the same thing I told them. If your mother needs anything while I’m here next door, all she has to do is ask. She would probably tell you the same thing she said to me—she’ll be just fine. She said she expects to be so busy catching up with all her old friends before she rejoins Paul that she won’t be home much, anyway. I believe she’s at a party of some sort now.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. So what about you, Ethan? How are you entertaining yourself there?”

  “I’ve been working. Trying to go over Joel’s books before I meet with Marilyn and the software people tomorrow.�
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  “That doesn’t sound like much fun. You shouldn’t work the whole time you’re there. I know you don’t know many people, but maybe you could call Aislinn? She’d probably be happy to show you around…or something.”

  Ethan pulled the telephone receiver away from his ear to stare at it incredulously. Was Nic actually trying to fix him up with her spooky friend? He knew they hadn’t spent all that much time together yet, but he’d have thought his new sister-in-law would still know him better than that!

  “I’m going to be pretty busy while I’m here,” he said after a moment. “Joel’s billing procedures are a mess.”

  He had no intention of telling either Nic or Joel about Aislinn’s weird visit that morning and certainly not the reason why she’d claimed to have come. He only wished he’d thought to forbid her then to call and bother Joel and Nic on their honeymoon with that wild tale. Surely even she wouldn’t go to that length for attention—would she?

  It took him a moment to realize that Nic was speaking again, and that she sounded a bit disappointed. “Oh. Well, if you’re not interested… But she really is very nice. Like you, she’s just a little hard to get to know.”

  “Oh, I don’t think Aislinn’s at all like me,” he muttered.

  “What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

  “Nothing. Look, Nic, you and Joel should be out snorkeling or horseback riding or sailing or something. Don’t worry about anything here, okay? Just enjoy your honeymoon.”

  “Okay, but—”

  Joel apparently took the phone from Nic’s hand. “We’ll talk to you later, Ethan. You know how to reach us here if anything comes up.”

  “Yeah, I know. Have fun.”

  He hung up with a frown, hoping nothing would happen to spoil his brother’s honeymoon.

  Though Aislinn wasn’t officially open for business on Sundays, she spent Sunday afternoon in the shop she had recently rented in a strip mall on the outskirts of town. She had a lot to do during the next few days. While it was nice to be doing well in her business, there were times when it all seemed to be moving too quickly. She’d had half a dozen serious inquiries just at the wedding reception.

  She was piping a delicate string of yellow frosting when someone hammered on the shop door early that evening, ignoring the Closed sign. Her hand jerked, ruining the effect of the decoration she’d been trying to complete. Swearing beneath her breath, she determined that the damage was repairable before she set her tools aside and went to answer the door.

  She passed by the display counter and the table and four comfortable chairs where she sat with clients as they discussed details of their orders. Photo albums of her work were neatly displayed on a small bookshelf, and framed enlargements of some of her best cakes decorated the walls. A few green plants were scattered through the room, but nothing else that would detract from the photos. More out of habit than anything, she glanced around to make sure nothing was out of place.

  Though she hadn’t been expecting him exactly, it didn’t take much effort to figure out who she would find on the other side of the glass door with its drawn shade. “There’s no need to knock it down,” she said as she released the locks and opened the door.

  Ethan dropped the fist he’d been using to knock on the thick glass stenciled with the words Cakes by Aislinn. “How did you do it?” he demanded, pushing past her without waiting for an invitation. Once inside, he turned to glare at her. “How did you know?”

  She closed the door, knowing it would serve no purpose to ask him to leave, the way he had kicked her out of Joel’s house earlier. “I take it you’ve heard from your parents?”

  “They called me when they got home,” he agreed gruffly. “They were running a few hours later than they expected. They had a blowout.”

  “Left rear tire?”

  He nodded without taking his eyes away from her face. “How did you know, Aislinn?”

  “What? You don’t want to accuse me of somehow sabotaging their tires?”

  He shook his head impatiently. “I know you couldn’t have done that. But I still don’t know how you predicted the tire was going to blow.”

  Her head was starting to hurt. She rubbed irritably at her left temple as she turned toward the kitchen.

  “I need some tea,” she said, figuring he deserved the same abrupt treatment he’d given her. “We can talk in the kitchen while the water comes to a boil. But, I warn you, I’m not in the mood for any more of your accusations. You can listen and you can ask questions, but start calling me a liar or a con artist again, and I’m throwing you out on your ear.”

  It was just as well he didn’t ask how she intended to do that, since he outweighed her by some fifty pounds. Still, as grumpy and unfriendly as Ethan had been to her, she wasn’t afraid of him. When she wanted him to go, he would leave.

  She had leased this shop because of the large, utilitarian kitchen. Big enough to hold a sizable work island, with two ovens, a six-burner gas range and an industrial-size freezer and refrigerator, it was the place where she spent the most time, even more than she did at her home these days. A small, rectangular metal table sat against one wall, with four simple metal chairs so she and her employees could take occasional breaks.

  Ethan glanced at the towering cake on the work island. “Another wedding cake?” he asked, picking up a long, serrated knife she used for torting—slicing layers into thinner layers.

  “It’s for a golden anniversary celebration tomorrow night,” she answered, reaching for the teakettle.

  He walked slowly around the island, studying the very traditional cake Aislinn’s client had chosen. A lemon cake filled with raspberry jam, it was covered in golden-yellow fondant, draped in icing shells and strings and topped with two entwined translucent golden rings made of sugar. Lovely but quite simple, actually, in keeping with the unpretentious personalities of the celebrants. “It’s nice.”

  It was the same adjective he’d used for the much more elaborate cake she’d made for Joel and Nic’s wedding, she remembered. An all-purpose cake compliment, apparently. “Thank you.”

  She opened a stainless-steel cabinet to take out a mug. “Would you like tea?”

  “You tell me.”

  Closing the cabinet a bit too firmly, she snapped, “I have no idea.”

  “Sorry,” he muttered after a moment. “No, I don’t want any tea just now, thanks.”

  He took a seat at the table, and a short while later she joined him, a steaming mug of chamomile tea in her hand. She set the beverage in front of her as she sank into a chair on the opposite side of the table from him. It wasn’t that she wanted the tea so badly; she had simply needed something to do to occupy her hands while she talked to him.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’m ready to talk.”

  He rested his forearms on the table and looked intently at her face, as if to watch for any sign that she wasn’t being entirely honest with him. “How did you know about the blowout?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He cursed beneath his breath, slamming one hand down on the stainless-steel tabletop. “You said you were ready to talk.”

  “And I am talking,” she replied defensively. “You asked me a question. I answered honestly. I don’t know how I knew. I just did.”

  “Did it come to you in a vision?”

  “I don’t have visions.”

  “A little voice in your head, maybe?”

  “I don’t hear voices.”

  “So…?”

  “I just knew,” she repeated, unable to think of any other way to explain it. “I have these feelings sometimes. And sometimes they come true. I’ve always believed that everyone has them. Maybe I just pay more attention to them.”

  “I don’t have them.”

  “Surely you’ve had odd premonitions. The feeling that something’s going to happen. Or the phone rang and you somehow knew who was on the other end. Or maybe you were thinking about someone and then coincidentally ran into them.”

>   “Well, yeah, but—”

  “That’s all it is with me. Feelings. Intuition. Whatever you want to call it.”

  “I think you’re the one playing with semantics. Intuition doesn’t explain the things you’ve said to me during the past couple of days. No one gets a vague feeling that a near stranger’s left rear tire will blow out just over the Alabama state line. That’s a little more specific than a good guess.”

  Her fingers tightened spasmodically around the mug. “I know,” she said, her tone sounding rather miserable even to her. “I—it’s not usually quite that detailed.”

  “You said the same thing about your ‘feeling’ about Kyle still being alive.”

  A slight tremor went through her, causing hot tea to splash on her fingers. She quickly released the full mug, reaching for a paper napkin to dry her fingers.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she said without looking at him. “I just spilled a little tea.”

  Though she was still looking down at her fingers, she knew he hadn’t turned his gaze away from her face. “I want to know what made you come to Joel’s house this morning,” he said, getting to the real reason for this visit. “What did you hope to accomplish with that crazy story about my little brother?”

  Chapter Five

  This was so much more difficult than Aislinn had anticipated. Even with Nic, she rarely talked about her insights. She simply stated what she thought Nic needed to know, and Nic took the warnings to heart with a matter-of-factness that Aislinn had always appreciated. No comments or questions about how Aislinn had known, just an acceptance that somehow she did. And that she was usually right.

  It was one of the reasons Aislinn was so fond of Nic. Nic had never treated her as an oddity, unlike so many other people they knew.

  “I try to avoid the C word,” she muttered, glaring into her mug again. “I’m not crazy.”

  “Whatever. So how long have you had these feelings?”