Left to Chance Read online

  “I wanted to surprise you.”

  “It’s eight o’clock in the morning?”

  “I took the red-eye.”

  What had Annie done?

  “I just wanted Annie to send the clothes. You didn’t have to fly all the way out here.”

  “I wanted to talk to you, Teddi.”

  “I found him in line at Perk. What luck, right?” Miles said, missing all the cues that I wasn’t happy about his discovery.

  I walked up onto the porch but stood near no one. Miles linked my arm and coaxed me closer to Simon.

  “How’s Shay?” I whispered. “I was going to text her a little later.”

  “Still asleep, of course. We were up late talking. She’ll be okay, Teddi.”

  I leaned over to Simon and more nudged him than hugged him. He hugged me with his one available arm, still holding up my clothes with the other. I took the garment bag and laid it over the railing. “You should have waited, Si. I’ll be back on Monday. You should’ve waited.”

  “But then I wouldn’t have met him, and your boss here has already given me some great insights on luring a hotel chain to Union County. I’m disappointed he doesn’t think it’s right for a Hester, but I understand. Business is business. He’s been very generous,” Miles said.

  “You could’ve told me about the land, Teddi. You know I’m always interested in possible opportunities,” Simon said.

  “It wasn’t the right time for business.”

  “It’s always the right time for business,” Miles and Simon said in unison.

  “I like him, Teddi,” Miles said.

  I told you so. I couldn’t believe Miles was pitching a hotel for Union County the day before his wedding. Yes, I could.

  “I’ll leave you two to your unfinished business.” Miles shook Simon’s hand. “Maybe I can pick your brain later?”

  “Call me anytime, Miles. Happy to help.”

  “Thank you,” Miles said.

  “When Shay wakes up, tell her I love her,” I said.

  “Who’s Shay?” Simon asked.

  “He doesn’t know about Shay?”

  Right then I knew Shay had told Miles about Simon, the impending marriage proposal, my possible yes, and maybe even about Shay being my maid of honor. Miles shook Simon’s hand again. “If you’re here tomorrow, you’re welcome to come to the wedding, considering.”

  “Miles, stop. Simon isn’t staying.” I turned to Simon. “You’re not staying, are you?”

  “I guess not.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “Should I know who this Shay is? And why didn’t you tell me you were shooting your best friend’s husband’s second wedding? It wouldn’t have mattered to me.”

  Exactly.

  I shook my head as if that were a way to align right and wrong and good and bad and sense and nonsense.

  “Teddi, are you okay?” Miles said. “You look pale. You never look pale.”

  Miles motioned to the swing, and I sat, hoping neither he nor Simon would join me. Miles held on to the pillar nearest to the step and swung himself back toward me. “Call me if you need something before tomorrow. I have to go check flowers and napkins.” He rolled his eyes but smiled wide, bounced down the steps, and almost skipped to his car. Simon and I said nothing. Heart-shaped exhaust may have spewed from the tailpipe as Miles drove down Lark and headed for home.

  “Tell me what’s wrong, Teddi,” Simon said.

  “Just about everything.” That was the most honest I’d been with him or myself in the past six years.

  “I didn’t realize you’d grown up in such a small town.” How could he? “When did you leave?” he asked.

  I watched Simon sway as he waited for my answer. His frame was broadened by his sport coat. I knew beneath the tightly woven linen were shoulders that fit neatly into a men’s medium.

  “I lived here until six years ago. Until I moved to Chicago and started working—for you. I haven’t been back here since.”

  “Wow. Why not?”

  “It’s complicated.” I fidgeted to pass seconds that felt like hours.

  “You don’t want to tell me,” Simon said. I shook my head and pushed off the ground with my toes, swinging back and forth. “I’d never pressure you to tell me something you don’t want me to know, Teddi.”

  “I know that, Si. But don’t you think that’s a problem?”

  “That what’s a problem? That I won’t pressure you?”

  “No, that we’re involved and I don’t want to tell you everything about me and my life, and that it doesn’t bother you?”

  “I wanted to talk to you about us being involved, Teddi. That’s why I’m here. I didn’t want to wait until you were back at work. We never really attached a label to it, so maybe it’s time—”

  “Don’t say it.”

  “Don’t say what?” Simon sat next to me on the swing. Why was he making this even harder?

  “Don’t propose. I can’t marry you, Simon. I thought maybe I could. I like you a lot. We have a good time together. You’re so smart and kind and fun to be around. I love working for you. But I don’t love you.”

  “Teddi?” Simon squeezed my hand and tugged on it. I summoned my bravery and looked at him. He deserved that.

  “Yes, Simon?”

  “I don’t love you either.”

  The words floated around me. “You don’t?” I lifted my hand from his.

  “I was never going to ask you to marry me.”

  “You weren’t?” I shuddered. Now I wasn’t good enough to be the first lady of Hester Hotels? All our time together has meant nothing to Simon?

  “My proposal is completely professional,” he said.

  “Are you kidding?”

  “I carried your dry cleaning across the country. Does that sound like I’m kidding?”

  “No.”

  “You thought I wanted to marry you? Really? I don’t mean you’re not great, but we never talked about anything like that.”

  “I know, I just assumed when you said you wanted to propose something…”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I have a business proposal for you. A new job. A promotion, really. If you want it.” I didn’t know what I wanted. “Have you been worrying about that the whole time you’ve been gone? Is that why you didn’t want to talk to me? I thought you were going to come back and quit. Or that you weren’t going to come back at all.”

  “And that’s why you came all the way here.” I looked away, my cheeks burning from humiliation. Simon tapped my shoulder and I turned back. “I’m so embarrassed.”

  “Don’t be. I’m flattered that you would even consider it. You were considering it, weren’t you?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe a little.” I couldn’t lie. “Not really. We had a lot of fun, though, didn’t we?”

  Simon nodded and held my hand again. “We certainly did. But I think our best times were when we were talking about work, brainstorming, collaborating. And I saw what you had to offer the company.” He opened his eyes wide. “You’re not going to quit now, are you? Can we talk about the new job? Whenever you’re ready, of course. Not here, not now.”

  “Am I interrupting?”

  I stood as Josie sashayed onto the porch. I hadn’t even seen her coming. My throat was dry and tightness edged over my shoulders. “Josie, this—is Simon Hester. My boss. Simon, this is Josie Fields. My friend. My dear, lifelong friend.”

  Josie curtsied and Simon bowed with Hester flair.

  “I wondered what was going on when I saw Miles and Mr. Hester at Perk. I had a feeling. I usually do when it comes to handsome men, you know.” Josie winked at me. “But speaking of handsome men…” Josie tipped her head toward the sidewalk, toward Cameron walking up Lark Street.

  Cameron walked up one step, holding a paper cup with the Perk logo on it. I’d implied I’d stop by to see him. Now his shift had ended and he’d come to find me. I knew the cup in his hand was a latte. For me.

  I
sat on the top step as he approached. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop by,” I whispered to Cameron. I felt Josie walk across the porch behind me, and sensed that she and Simon were listening. “A lot has been going on.”

  “Just thought I’d see if you were okay,” Cameron said. “But I see you are.”

  “It’s not what it looks like…”

  “Simon Hester,” Simon said as he reached down the steps and shook Cameron’s hand. I tilted my head from side to side to stretch my constricting neck muscles. My temples pounded. Josie looked at me with a trademark Josie smirk.

  “Cameron Davis.”

  “Nice to meet you, Cameron. Nice town you have here.”

  “Not my town, but thanks.”

  “No? Where’re you from?”

  “I live in Oakland. Right across the bridge from you.”

  “That’s great! You’ll come out and have dinner with me and Teddi.”

  “He doesn’t mean us us, like a couple us,” I said.

  “He doesn’t?” Josie asked.

  “No,” I said.

  Beck walked out onto the porch. “Having a party without me, Teddi?”

  Josie smiled, then covered her mouth.

  “I really just wanted to tell you that I was going to visit my parents in Akron, but I can see you’re busy.” Cameron set down the latte and waved in the general direction of the porch. As he walked away I followed him with quick, short steps. He quickened his pace.

  “I’m not marrying Simon. You were right. I don’t love him. And it’s really funny but—he didn’t even want to marry me. I want to see what can happen between us. You and me, us.”

  “So I’m second choice?” He looked at the porch. “Or third?”

  “Neither. Oh, that’s not what I meant. Can we talk? Please?”

  “Teddi!” Simon yelled from the porch. “Your friend here is a graphic designer? Why aren’t we using his firm for some of our work?”

  “I’ve got to go,” Cameron said.

  I stopped. He kept walking, then turned toward me.

  “Can we talk when you get back? I think you’ll understand.”

  “I thought maybe you weren’t over Beck, and then I believed you were. I was convinced you didn’t love Hester, but no matter what you say, he flew across the country to see you.”

  “It’s not how it seems.”

  “Look, it’s no big deal if I got the wrong vibe.”

  “You didn’t get the wrong idea. Wait—no big deal?”

  “We only just met, Teddi. I’m not sure me chasing you around thirty years ago really counts.”

  “It totally counts. Will you come say good-bye before I leave?”

  “Maybe.”

  Cameron walked down Lark Street and didn’t turn back again. I didn’t chase him or call after him, hanging on to my one shred of pride left intact.

  I stomped back onto the porch. “I like him and now he thinks he’s my third choice.”

  “Seems like a decent guy,” Simon said. “And not like he’d be that far away. Assuming you’re coming back to San Francisco.”

  “Not now, Simon,” I said.

  “You like Cameron?” Beck asked.

  My stomach flipped, and not because it was empty. Yes! I liked Cameron. I hadn’t been just flirting and it wasn’t just fun to hang around him. I really liked him. And now I didn’t know if I’d see him again.

  “I do like him,” I said aloud. “Is it okay that I like him?”

  Beck and Simon stared at me, but neither man said anything.

  Josie to the rescue. “There is only one person on this porch who should answer that question.”

  * * *

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Josie asked.

  “I’m sure. But will you wait right here in case I change my mind?”

  I knew she would. I stepped out of Josie’s car and walked through the open gates of West End Cemetery. I watched the ground as I walked up the main path. As sunset neared, I walked faster. My heart pounded—not from fear, but from resolve. The headstone loomed large and I stared. I closed my eyes to saturate my memory with the image, to remember the swirl in my stomach, the lump in my throat, and the unexpected grateful tug on my heart. Eyes open, I reached into a canvas bag I’d slung across my body. I removed my bag full of stones and one by one I placed them on the ground close to the front of the headstone, lined up like the tulip bulbs Celia and I had planted in our hand-dug trench in my mother’s garden. I’d placed the words facedown, as if tempting them to seep into the soil, as if urging them to grow. Pictures bubbled to the surface of my thoughts and faded away. I didn’t philosophize, or pray, or apologize. Words failed to come, except for three.

  I was here.

  Chapter 22

  A STRING QUARTET PLAYED as wedding guests filled the roped-off lawn around the gazebo in Chance Square. The temperature and humidity had dropped throughout the day, and the sky was a bright Carolina blue even though we were in the middle of Ohio.

  I kept myself off to the side of the crowd, half out of sight behind meticulously placed flowers atop decorative columns. I snapped candid photos of unknowing guests with my long-range lens. When it was time, I took my stance next to the beginning of the aisle where I’d take all the ceremony photos. And I waited, sweeping not only the ground with my foot but the memory of Celia and Miles’s wedding off to the side. Celia would be happy for Miles. I was happy for Miles. Miles was happy. Shay was adjusting. That was what mattered.

  Soon, the seats were filled and a flutist replaced the string musicians. First, the rabbi walked toward me, turned, and walked up the aisle toward the chuppah, the hand-embroidered wedding canopy that had been in Violet’s family for generations. Miles approached the aisle with a parent on each side, traditionally linking arms with him. He smiled and looked my way long enough to allow for a proper photograph, but that was all. Then, the groomsmen walked toward me—Violet’s brother and one of Miles’s cousins, dressed in taupe linen pants and a matching vest pinned with a double white-rose boutonniere, each wearing a Tiffany-blue tie to match Violet’s color scheme. When they were halfway up the aisle, Beck stepped into view. He winked at me and my breath caught, but my pulse remained steady. I held my camera to my face and he stepped closer, leaned into the lens and then toward my ear. I shivered.

  “Go for it,” he said, and then he kissed my cheek.

  As Shayna stepped toward me, I inched back to take it all in, to take in all of her. Celia’s daughter, with her Tiffany-blue floating tulle skirt that skimmed the top of her knees and swayed as if starring in its own secret ballet. Shay’s hair hung loosely curled down her back, the sides lifted and accented with sprigs of baby’s breath. I glanced at her dyed shoes and smiled. They were perfect. Shay swung her ribbon-wrapped roses by her side and walked up to me. It was then I noticed a shiny heart around her neck, perhaps a gift from her father and her new stepmom.

  “I’m so glad you’re here, Aunt Tee. Thank you for this.” She touched the necklace. It wasn’t new. It was the half heart I’d given her at the mall, the half that had belonged to Celia and had marked our friendship, and now marked my relationship with Shay. The charm glistened as it dangled from a delicate chain that sparkled in the sunlight. “Vi had this cleaned and bought me the chain,” Shay said. “She said she’d be honored if I wore it today so that a little bit of Mom is here with me.”

  I swallowed. “Your mom is with you even without the necklace. You know that, right?”

  Shay nodded, lifted her bouquet into place at her waist, turned, and disappeared into a haze of my watery eyes.

  I blinked hard as Violet and her parents came into view. She wore a delicate wreath of baby’s breath and tiny white roses. Her face sparkled. The ivory lace sheath wedding gown looked both antique and brand new. When her parents kissed her on her cheeks I snapped a picture. The light was perfect. Here, in Chance, without glimmering seas or majestic mountains or crystal chandeliers. No one here needed that. Or wanted i
t.

  Violet stepped toward me and whispered. “I saw it.”

  “What?” I whispered back.

  “Gretchen Halliday tweeted best wishes for my wedding day. Can you believe it? That had to be you, Teddi. That was so thoughtful. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Thank you, Simon.

  As the ceremony ended, I captured a wide shot of Miles breaking the glass, and then a few of Miles and Violet running back down the aisle holding hands as the crowd roared with “Mazel tov.” When they ran past me, I walked backward on the grass and then onto a small patch of gravel, jarred by the uncertain footing.

  I picked up a handful of the ragged white stones. The past, the present, the future, the people, the places, the joy, the sorrow, the possibilities. It all slipped through my fingers into the pocket of the periwinkle dress I’d chosen instead of my waiter uniform. With one hand I swept the surface of the fabric. The bumps and edges tickled and pricked. Then, as I turned to face the crowd gathering for cocktails, I smiled. The stones were safe and sound, and there was room for more.

  * * *

  I settled into my bed for my last night in Chance. Beck was upstairs in his room and Simon was in the room down the hall. It was just about ten o’clock Pacific time on a Sunday night. I called Annie anyway.

  “I’m so sorry!” Annie said, instead of hello.

  “Don’t be. It all worked out for the best.”

  “If you say so. But that’s not why you’re calling.”

  “No. I just wanted to tell you that I changed my flight, so I need you to reschedule the Horton/Brady meeting until next Monday. They’re in the city; it should be fine if you do it first thing in the morning.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. My new motto is family and friends before work, whenever possible. Without losing clients, or sanity, that is.”

  “Don’t worry about the Hortons, it was just a formality. You’ve shot every event for that family in the past five years and that’s not going to change.”

  “Is that so?” I laughed.

  “I’m glad you’re staying in Chance a bit longer, Teddi.”

  “I’m not staying in Chance,” I said. “I’m visiting my parents in Portland.”