Christmas Wishes Part 3. Diana Palmer

let out a nervous laugh. “See you, Cee.” She searches my face; she knows me so well, and intuits there’s something off kilter.

      “I’ll be here bright and early, sugar plum.” We exchange a knowing glance — she’ll be here before the sun rises behind grey skies to find out what’s stolen the smile from my face.

      “Night, Cee.”

      “Lovely to meet you, CeeCee. I can’t wait to find out more about the matron of honor.” Olivia flashes her a wide smile. It’s so charming I crumple a little inside; her tone’s markedly different with Cee than it was with me.

      “You too, Olivia. Tell that sleepy husband o’ yours I said bye, now.” Cee ambles outside, the door blowing closed behind her.

      With an internal sigh, I sit back down. Beside me, Damon’s grinning as if he’s just won the lottery, oblivious to my mood. He’s tapping his feet, and laughing, jittery with happiness like some kind of jumping bean. He stands again, moves to his father and shakes his shoulder. “Dad, you’re here to get to know Lil!” George starts, and opens his eyes.

      Damon chuckles. “Come on, old man, let me show you Lil’s window display. It’s a work of art.” Don’t leave me, I silently scream, but watch dumbstruck as they put their coats on and head back outside to admire it from the street.

      They walk out to the dark night before Olivia continues: “As I was saying, I’m sure you didn’t mean to, but somehow you’ve neglected to invite some of the Guthrie family… I know you probably don’t know us well enough, but it’s a little rude to leave them out.”

      With a deep breath I counter, “Oh? We wanted a small, simple wedding. We’ve only invited close friends and family. Damon hasn’t seen the extended family in years, even decades, despite them living around here — we figured it wouldn’t be a problem.”

      Olivia frowns and shakes her head. “Exactly — we haven’t seen some of them for a long time, so now’s the perfect opportunity to right that. No matter how simple you intend it to be.”

      The Guthrie family tree is rich in history as well as funds. There are branches of Guthries on the outskirts of town but we rarely see them. Occasionally they’ll attend CeeCee’s church and she’ll bring news back of more Guthrie babies being baptized; other than that, they don’t drop into town.

      I scratch the back of my neck, feeling lost and alone all at once; without being able to pinpoint why, I think Olivia is baiting me. “We’ve only got so much room and I’d rather, we’d rather,” I correct, “it more intimate with just close family and friends.”

      Olivia does a little chortle again, as if I’m a child to be placated. “Damon won’t tell you this, Lily, because he knows you want a small wedding, but he would prefer his family there. All of them. I do hope it won’t be a problem… I can always help. It’s late notice but I’m sure we can find a bigger venue, even a better chef, for that matter.”

      My breath catches. Would Damon seriously not have mentioned he wants the entire Guthrie clan at our wedding? And what’s the talk about a better venue? Another chef? Glancing over to the window, I watch him talk with his dad. He’s so animated, his face lit up with joy. They stand under the awning; Damon laughs, and his father pats him on the back. I can’t hear what they’re saying but happiness radiates from them both.

      I mentally shake myself. I’m not going to sit here like a bamboozled fool. “Damon’s been involved every step of the way with the wedding planning, and he’s never once mentioned that he wanted to invite more people. And to be honest, Olivia, the venue is perfect and we’re very lucky to have the chef we do. He doesn’t usually cater weddings.”

      Olivia gathers her coat tighter. “Perhaps Damon doesn’t know how to tell you. But I’m his mother and I know my son. Known him his whole life, in fact.” Again she gives me that huge smile as if it’ll take the sting out of her words.

      An awkward silence hangs between us and I figure I’m going to have to try and compromise so we don’t so much as get off on the wrong foot, as outright stagger. “Of course, Olivia, if it’s important to you, and to Damon, we can try to accommodate more people.”

      Guillaume will throw a fit, but somehow we’ll have to make it work. I’ll get CeeCee to ask him. Damon must be catching his death outside, and for once I wish the display window wasn’t such a talking point.

      Perhaps Olivia just needs to be included more; then she’ll see for herself how happy Damon is here and that our wedding, though simple, is going to be lovely. “Olivia, I’d love some help in choosing the centerpieces. I wanted poinsettias, maybe in rectangle planters, sort of Christmassy, and in keeping with the color theme. We’ve been so busy in the café the last few days the wedding preparations have kind of been pushed to the side.”

      “Your wedding has been pushed to the side? Your wedding?” she says, not managing to hide the incredulous edge to her voice.

      “Not my wedding, our wedding. This is the busiest time of year for us — for all of us.” I indicate to Damon outside too. “And there’s no question work comes first, hence the need for a simple wedding.”

      The Christmas carols playing overhead finish, and we’re suddenly sitting in silence.

      Olivia says with a pained expression, “I don’t mean to sound rude, but why on earth would you have a wedding at this time of year if you don’t have time to plan it?”

      Holding in an exasperated sigh, I say, “We decided to get married one year to the day we started out as a couple. And because it’s when all of my family would be home, and when Charlie would be holidaying here.” I’m sure she knows all of this. I’ve heard Damon on the phone to her a number of times, discussing the wedding, and the choices he’s made.

      “I do wonder if you’ve thought this through. While a snowy wedding is a lovely thought, you’re taking people away from their warm homes at Christmas.”

      I’m on the back foot every single time Olivia opens her mouth. If it were anyone else I would have told them straight up that they were pushing my buttons. But out of respect, I bite back on any remarks that aren’t friendly. I try once more to reassure her. “It’s Christmas Eve, not Christmas Day, and we’ve only invited those we’d normally spend time with over Christmas anyway. They’d be happy if our wedding was in the middle of a field with a lame horse for a witness because they care about us. There’s not much more to say about it. I’d love you to be involved in any planning that’s left, but if not that’s fine too.”

      The doorbell jingles as Damon and his dad walk inside. “Mighty fine window you’ve got there,” George says.

      “Thank you,” is all I manage.

      George rubs his gloved hands together and says, “If you ladies are finished discussing the upcoming nuptials, we might call it a night. It’s been a long day of travel for us.”

      Damon stands and says, “Dad’s right, you must be tired, Mother. How about I take you to our house and Lil can finish up here and meet us later?”

      They’re staying at our house? It’ll be a squeeze when Charlie arrives. It’s only a small cottage up the road from the Gingerbread Café.

      “Damon,” Olivia says, her voice saccharine, “we wouldn’t like to impose. We’d planned on staying with Abe Guthrie — he’s not too far from Ashford. We have decades of catching up to do.” She glances squarely at me and I manage to ignore the jibe.

      “Right, Mother.” He grins. “How about I drive you there now, and we can meet for dinner tomorrow night?”

      George pipes up, “We’re busy tomorrow night. We went ahead and promised Abe that we’d spend the night with his family, but how about the following evening?”

      Olivia nods. “I don’t suppose there are any restaurants here yet?”