“Thanks. I just need to get my purse.”
When she returned, he held the door open for her. Thick, humid heat hit them, and he pressed the automatic start on his key fob to cool the interior of his car. As they walked, she explained that her Mercedes was in the shop, and that Rusty Jenkins, a local mechanic, was working on it. Harper was always easy to talk to, and as they left the church lot, he said, “I can’t believe both my sisters are married.”
“That means you’re next.”
He tried to be good-humored but flopped. “Stop sounding like my mom. Like I told her, I’ll get married when I’m ready.”
“Okay.”
Nuts. He hadn’t meant to snap at her. It wasn’t her fault his mother wouldn’t let up on bugging him to get married, or that the one woman who’d caught more than his passing interest wasn’t speaking to him—with good reason. “Sorry.” He fought for a smile, and this time he was on point. He explained that being teased at weddings for being single was getting old. She agreed.
He pulled into the lot of the community center, and they both got out of the car. “Thanks again for the ride,” she said.
“Anytime.” And he meant it. Helping someone in need, even something as simple as a six-minute ride to the community center, usually put him in a good mood. He wasn’t in the best of moods right now, but doing a good deed helped.
When they got inside, he saw his mother engaged in a conversation with a caterer that looked like it was quickly heading south. “Uh-oh,” he said. “She looks ready to pop off.”
“How can you tell?” Harper said. “She looks fine to me.”
“That’s the calm before the storm. Better go rescue that guy.”
“Good luck.”
He walked over and lightly put his hand on his mother’s back, his fingers brushing the gray silk fabric. Her dress probably cost more than his first year of medical school, and he figured the only reason they were having the reception in Maple Falls instead of at the Hot Springs Country Club was because Anita had insisted.
His mother continued to berate the young man about the color of the napkins. “We agreed they would be eggshell,” she said.
“That’s tan, right?” The caterer’s brown eyebrows flattened. He couldn’t have been older than twenty-one, if even that. “My boss said they were what you ordered.”
“As if!”
“Mother,” Kingston said, knowing she liked formality in front of others. “May I talk to you for a minute?”
She turned to him, as if just realizing he was there. “Now?”
“Yes. Now.”
“Fine.” She glared at the young man, then allowed Kingston to guide her away. “I hope this is important,” she said. “The napkins are a disaster.”
“No one will notice them,” he said. His sister couldn’t care less about napkin color.
She glanced up at him. “I just want everything to be perfect.”
“I know. And it will be. It is.” For Anita and Tanner, anyway. For himself... totally different story.
She smiled and brushed the lapel of his gray suit jacket. “You look handsome, as usual.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“You’d be even handsomer if you wiped that sourpuss expression off your face.”
He thought he’d successfully masked his feelings. He mustered a smile. “Better?”
“Yes.” A small frown. “Aren’t you happy for Anita and Tanner?”
“I am. I’m sorry, I was just thinking about . . . I’ve had stuff on my mind.”
She gave him a pointed look. “You know how proud we are of you, King, and how important your job is. But sometimes you have to set work aside and enjoy yourself.”
