“Then Tuesday, there’s the morning meeting with the wedding coordinator. I won’t be able to make it in time for that. Later that day, there’s the ladies’ tea and croquet party,” she mused. “And the men will be sailing. So, that should give you a nice long break from Brent until I show up to relieve you, hopefully by three o’clock.”
Hope’s mind tripped back through the itinerary, her thoughts snagging on one detail. “Tuesday morning I’m meeting with the wedding coordinator?”
“Yes, Eleanor Bell.”
“What am I supposed to do there?”
“Just look at her schedule and say everything looks great. I already gave my input earlier, and Meredith helped me with suggestions.”
Hope drew in a breath, starting to feel calmer about the situation. “Okay, that doesn’t sound too bad. It will just be me and her, then?”
“And Elsa, of course. Mom insisted on being there, too. Grandmother Margaret also elbowed her way in.”
Hope groaned. “Nice.”
“You’re the best for doing this. The very best.”
“Not really. I was kind of ambushed,” Hope said. “And you know that thing you said about Grandmother Margaret giving you the eye?”
“No. She did that again?”
“In spades.”
“And yet, she baked us banana bread. Hmm.”
Hope eyed the suspicious baked goods. “Precisely why I am going to wait and let you eat it.”
“Funny. You know I don’t eat carbs.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.”
“Well…?” Jackie inquired with unmasked interest. “What did you think?”
“Of?”
“My groom-to-be.”
“He, um…seems really nice.”
“Smoking hot, too, right?”
Hope’s face warmed. “I didn’t particularly notice.”
“That’s probably for the best,” her sister said. “Given the circumstances.”
“Oh, um,” Hope said, just now thinking of it. “There’s one little thing. You’re going to have to cut your hair.”
“What?”
“Brent commented on my haircut. He likes it.”
“I hadn’t even considered that. Are you still wearing it like you did at Debbie’s wedding?”
“Yeah. I can text you a photo if that would help.”
“Okay, great. I was going to get my hair done before coming up there, anyway, and I’ve already moved my appointment—twice.”
“So, see you Tuesday?”
“The day after tomorrow. Totally promise. I’ll shoot you a text when I’m on the way.”
…
Hope strode toward the main house, gathering her courage. The itinerary seemed easy enough, but maybe she should just tell everyone the truth. The longer she kept this up, the harder it would be. What if she slipped up? What if they figured out she wasn’t Jackie and decided to call off the wedding because of Jackie’s lying sister? The one who already almost ran over the groom’s mom? Jackie would never let Hope live that down.
“Well, hello,” a man’s voice boomed from beside the firepit situated on the patio. The middle-aged guy with salt-and-pepper hair resembled Brent, but his smile-creased eyes were lighter.
He set down the bundle of twigs and logs he’d gathered on the stone patio and dusted his hands on his jeans.
“You must be Jackie,” he said, extending his hand. “It’s so great to meet you.” His collared button-down shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, and its crisp white color matched his bright grin. “Parker Albright,” he said, clasping one of his hands over both of theirs as they shook hands. “Welcome home.”
Hope blinked. “Pardon?”
Parker released his grip. “Brent tells us you grew up in Blue Hill, at least in part.”
She tried to paste on a friendly smile but worried that it looked fake. “That’s right. My sister and I lived here with our mom during our junior year of high school.”
“Ava, yes. Elsa and I look forward to meeting her tomorrow.”
“I’m sure she’s excited to meet you, too.”
“You’ve already met Elsa, I hear.”
If by “met” he means “nearly ran her over.” “Yes. She’s great.”
His eyes twinkled in a kind way, like he was on her side. “And Grandmother Margaret.” He motioned Hope forward. “Come on, let me show you up to the house. Elsa left lemonade in the kitchen for you and Brent.”
Parker led her up some brick steps to the enormous covered back porch. Square white columns supported the roof above it, and strategically placed rocking chairs tilted lazily in the breeze. There was even a porch swing at the far end, and planters filled with ferns and flowers were everywhere.
“This place is gorgeous,” she said as Parker held open one side of the large French doors to let her inside.
“We enjoy being on the water, especially in summertime.”
They walked into an opulent room that Parker called the den. Cream-colored walls housed teeming bookshelves, and a sturdy roll-top desk sat in one corner. A dry sink serving as a bar stood in another, and oriental rugs blanketed the hardwood floors.
The flat-screen TV directly ahead of them had a set of matching loveseats on either side. Brent stood in front of one of them, flipping up its seat cushions and checking underneath.
He looked up when he heard his dad and Hope enter the den. “Hey there.” Brent paused, steadying a sideways-turned seat cushion in his hands. “You get settled in okay?”
“Yeah,” Hope answered. “The carriage house is beautiful.”
Parker excused himself through a side door that led to what looked like a library. “I’ll leave you two to the lemonade,” he said with a grin.
Based on Jackie’s initial impression of Grandmother Margaret, Hope had guessed Brent’s family would be equally monstrous. She hadn’t expected warmhearted Elsa or Parker.
She turned her attention back on Brent as he shoved his hands down into the framing of the loveseat, obviously searching for something.
Her heart lurched when she realized what it was: his phone.
“I’m sure it’s around here somewhere.” Concentration furrowed his brow. “I had it yesterday, and I was sitting right, aha.” He reached for something.