A Wedding on Lilac Lane by Hope Ramsay (best book clubs .txt) 📕

because I was packing away a casserole dish that I’ve had since I was a college student. He insisted that it was his mother’s favorite pot. It’s not. Julianne was not much of a cook, but that’s not the way Dylan remembers things.

“I’m afraid he’s behaving like a child. And pushing your daughter around is his way of acting out. And poor Ella is only trying to please you. And me. And we both failed her today.”

Brenda’s eyes welled up again. “I know. When she was little, she always tried to please me. We used to play music together all the time. When she became a teen, things went south. I need to remember she’s not that out-of-control girl she once was.”

“No, she’s not. And in my opinion, she’s treading very carefully and trying a little too hard to make everyone happy. And you know what? Dylan has always been more concerned about my happiness than his own. I wish he’d stop, to tell you the truth. But it’s hard not to love him despite his misguided concerns.”

Brenda gave Jim a skeptical look.

“I’m sorry,” Jim said. “It’s got to be hard when my son is so determined to break us up. I’m going to talk to him again. I think we’ll have to give it some time. I’m sure he’s going to come around. I know you can’t see it right now, but he’s a sensitive kid.”

She rested her head against Jim’s shoulder and refrained from telling him that his son was the antithesis of sensitive. Jim already understood how she felt. Complaining about Dylan wouldn’t get her what she wanted, but she gave voice to that dream, anyway. “I so wanted us to become one happy family. And bad on me for taking my frustrations and stress out on Ella. Do you think I’ll ever learn?”

“Yes.”

She looked up at him. He seemed so sure.

“You’re always so even-keeled. But you know, the thing is…” She hesitated.

“What? Spit it out. You can’t hurt me by telling me what’s on your mind.” He gave her a sober look out of those bright eyes of his.

“Well, I guess I’m not even-keeled. And when Ella told me a few days ago that you and Dylan were insisting on having the engagement party at the yacht club, it stressed me out. That and Dylan’s behavior has made me a little crazy. That’s not an excuse, of course. Maybe an explanation. And I know this sounds stupid and immature or something, but…” She hesitated again.

“What? You don’t want it at the yacht club?”

“Mom never was a member there, you know? And…”

“Oh, I see.”

“Do you?”

“Brenda, I’ve lived in this town for a long time. I get it. You think the members are snobs.” His mouth twitched.

“Not you. I overlook your club membership.”

He laughed out loud. “Well, that’s settled. We aren’t having the party at the yacht club.”

“No, that’s not necessary. I mean, I’m the one who’s—”

He pressed his fingers across her lips. “I don’t give a damn where we have this party, or if we have it at all. But you want to have a celebration, and I agree with the idea that we should have the kids plan it. Besides, throwing the kids a curve might induce them to work together to find a solution.”

“But I don’t want to be—”

“Difficult?” His eyebrow arched.

She nodded.

“Honey, you can’t please everyone all the time. That’s what Ella has been trying to do, and I think she demonstrated to both of us how stressful that can be. You’re the bride. You should get what you want. That’s the way it works, you know. And I don’t think you’re difficult at all.”

“I love you,” she said, and rested her head on his shoulder, her heart rate finally dropping into a normal rhythm.

“I love you too. And I’m going to have a word with Dylan about the things Ella said.”

“And I’m going to apologize to Ella and make it clear she doesn’t have to please everyone to be loved for herself.”

He gave her a kiss, and they smooched for a long time, until Momma came into the bathroom and said, “Are y’all going to help me unpack or what?”

Chapter Ten

By the time Ella settled into the back corner of the Howland House library and started to play her fiddle, her eyes had lost the I’ve-been-crying puffiness. She stuck with a medley of lively jigs and reels as Ashley’s customers arrived for tea service, which was set out in the dining room, buffet style.

Howland House had been built in the early 1800s, and Ashley Scott had recently restored the place, filling it with period-appropriate antiques, wallpapers, and window treatments. Her collection of antique china teacups was probably not quite as old as the house, but they certainly set the mood for her formal tea service.

The mismatched collection from various floral patterns gave the tea service a garden-party feel. Each teacup was festooned with flowers: yellow daffodils, pink and red roses, purple violets, and blue irises and forget-me-nots. A wide selection of cakes, muffins, scones, cookies, and dainty sandwiches had been put out in the dining room, where guests could load up their plates and grab tea, then circulate through the inn’s historic public rooms.

In addition to a fainting couch and a couple of armchairs covered in deep blue velvet, a handful of wooden folding chairs—the kind used for outdoor weddings—had been placed in the library to accommodate additional guests who wanted to listen to the music up close.

The spring day had turned warm, with temperatures in the low eighties, so many of the guests chose the solarium and the patio, but Ella’s music drew a few of them into the library. Maybe next week she should set up outside, although to do that effectively she’d need a sound system, which would cost a lot of money she didn’t have.

Ashley strictly limited the number of guests at her Saturday teas, which became an embarrassing problem when Doctor D arrived shortly after 4:15 p.m.