“I care more about Arnold. These people are staring at me and thinking about how instead of here, we should be at my wedding. Whether they know about Skylar or not, seeing me here with you, they’re jumping to their own conclusions.”
“Their opinions are irrelevant.”
I wished I could agree.
We paused as the hallway gave way to the expanse of the rear living room. A large perfectly shaped Christmas tree decorated with colorful lights and large ornaments was near the far end next to the fireplace. The usual pictures that donned the mantel were missing, replaced by more holiday décor.
This room was wider than it was deep, spanning the width of the house with multiple couches and groupings of chairs. There were also three sets of tall double-arched glass doors that led out onto the terrace. As if it were summer instead of the final day of the year, all the doors were opened.
I’d been right about the canopy.
Inside, the white tent was filled with round tables covered in linen tablecloths with tall centerpieces consisting of vases of twigs decorated with tiny white, silver, and gold lights. Some guests were already seated outside while others stood or sat inside. If we went to the left inside and turned left again, we’d be in my father’s barroom. I supposed some would call it his man cave; however, there wasn’t one piece of the décor that wasn’t approved by my mother.
With cherry wainscoting, intricate lighting, and an actual antique bar that was salvaged from a tavern in Indiana, even I believed the room was impressive.
“My mother is out here,” I said, heading toward the terrace.
Van’s response was too low to be heard beyond our bubble. “Joy.”
“Julia.”
“Julia.”
My name came from different directions.
“Saying hello to my mother is the obligatory greeting. After it’s done, I want to introduce you to one of my best friends.”
“Vicki?”
I turned to Van. “How do you remember that? I think I’ve only mentioned her once or twice.”
He lifted my hand to his lips, brushing his warmth over my knuckles. “Who is important to you is important to me.”
The drone of talking grew louder as we approached the far-right end of the tent. Standing amongst a crowd of finely dressed women and men was Anastasia McGrath. To some it might seem odd for this party to go on with the canceled wedding and the questionable state of Wade Pharmaceutical. If I knew my mother, it was exactly why it had progressed. She wouldn’t hide from her daughter’s failed engagement or publicized problems with Wade. After all, she’d held court in this house since she wore pigtails.
For only a second, I recalled Grandfather’s will.
If it is contested, could she lose the house as well as us losing Wade?
As Donovan and I approached, the sea of people surrounding her parted.
Mom’s blue eyes met mine as she stood, her perfect smile in place. “Julia.” She lifted her hands. “I’m so happy you made it.”