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“What?”
“His name is Gerald,” Bobbi ground out. “Not Gerry, or Gerry Berry, or Gerry the guy who-matches-his-boxers-to-his-dress-shirt.” She nailed her sister with ‘the’ look. “It’s Gerald.”
“If Gerald is the one to make you happy then I support you 100 percent.”
A bittersweet smile tugged at Bobbi’s mouth. “Okay, thanks.” She blew out a long, hot breath. “You’ve got dad?” His memory had been better as of late and his bad days fewer than a month ago. Dementia or Alzheimer’s or whatever the hell you wanted to call it, seemed to have paused in its assault on Travis Barker.
Billie nodded. “Yeah, he’s having a good day. He’ll be waiting at the church. Logan has him.”
“Okay,” Bobbi said brightly, that fake smile she had tucked into her back pocket, secure and in place. “I’ll see you at St. Paul’s.”
Billie nodded and moved toward the door, pausing before she opened it. “It’s never too late to change your mind.”
And then she was gone.
Bobbi stared at the door for so long that her vision began to blur and when she finally pulled herself together, it was time to leave.
With one more glance in the mirror, she grabbed her clutch bag and headed downstairs, where she paused in the foyer and glanced outside. It was February 14th, Valentine’s Day, which she supposed was totally cliché, but when Gerald had suggested a fast engagement, she hadn’t said no. In fact, she’d moved their original date up to February from May because deep down, she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to go through with it.
For a second she stared at her hands, at her shaking fingers, and felt the panic butterflies begin to take flight in her stomach. Oh god, not now. She had to go through with this. She had to.
It was all part of her plan. A plan that had seemed perfectly smart and good and fine until Shane Gallagher had walked back into her life. Though technically he wasn’t in her life, he was more or less on the fringes of it, but still…
“Oh honey, you look so grown up it breaks my heart.”
Bobbi glanced down the hall and smiled, her heart turning over at the side of her gramps. Herschel Barker was dressed to the nines in a white tuxedo, his hair all slicked back and dapper, and he had grabbed his black walking stick. He would say it was for looks only but she knew that his right knee was killing him—the cold and damp wasn’t good for his arthritis.
When he scooped her into his arms and hugged her tightly, she let his warmth and love envelop her body. And when she withdrew, his strength fueled her enough that it was easy to smile at him. It was easy to think the day was going to be good and wonderful and everything that a wedding day should be.
In that moment she truly believed that she was doing the right thing. So what if she didn’t exactly enjoy sleeping with her soon-to-be husband? Marriage wasn’t all about the sex. Hell, just from listening to some of her older girlfriends she’d gleaned that marriage wasn’t always about the love either. It was about feeling secure and in control.
Then why do I keep circling back to the sex thing?
“Damn you, Billie,” she muttered.
“Are you ready?” Herschel smiled warmly and offered up her snow-white wrap. Bobbi shrugged into it and nodded, taking her gramps arm and following him out into the cold, Michigan afternoon.
The car was parked out front, already running and warmed up, and it was only a few seconds later that she was inside. And though Herschel must have had the temperature set to some un-godly setting, she was cold. Her hands trembled and her teeth chattered.
But that was normal right? That was just nerves.
There was no music or noise in the car as Herschel carefully manoeuvred out of the driveway and headed downtown, toward St. Paul’s. It was in the older section of New Waterford, across the bridge, and it was there that each of the Barker girls had been christened and made their first communions.
It was also the church where their father had married their mother and though she’d long been dead, their love had been real. Bobbi squeezed her eyes shut as photos from a past long gone shot into her mind. Images of her mother and father laughing, loving, touching, was all she saw and it took a lot of effort for her to push them away.
“We’re here darlin’”
Bobbi leaned back in the car, her gaze on the steps leading up to the church. The walkway had been well shoveled and salted. There wasn’t even a hint of ice, though the glare from the late afternoon sun made everything look cold and harsh.
A shiver rolled over her slight frame when she spied Gerald’s large SUV parked a few feet ahead. Red bows hung off the back end and one had fallen free, no doubt ripped from its mooring by the crisp wind that buffeted the vehicle. Her eyes focused on it and
she thought that it looked like blood in the snow.
“Bobbi, are you ready?”
Her heart took off at the sound of her grandfather’s voice and her throat was so dry she didn’t think she could answer. Movement caught her peripheral and she glanced back up at the church, her eyes on Billie as her sister waved, gave the thumbs up, and then disappeared back inside.
For several seconds the only thing Bobbi heard was the rough intake of her breath and the heavy beat of her heart.
