“Oh.” Then after a pause, Granna Mae said, “Is this their wedding party?”
“No. It’s Tawni’s engagement party. Tawni and Jeremy. We’re going out to eat with Jeremy’s family and our family.”
Granna Mae looked up at the crowd that was now gathered in the driveway. Sierra knew they were all watching her with her grandmother and waiting to take a cue from her as to what to do next.
“Would you like to ride in the backseat?” Sierra asked.
Suddenly, Granna Mae let go of Sierra’s hand and held both her arms out to the group of relatives. “Paul dear,” she said cheerfully. “Oh, Paul, how wonderful to see you.”
Sierra looked at the surprised group and watched as Paul moved around from the rear flank next to his father and came toward Granna Mae with his arms open to her. Paul was reaching with open arms for her grandmother, when all along Sierra had planned for him to run to her with open arms. He hugged Granna Mae gently, and as Sierra watched from less than a foot away, Paul tenderly pressed his lips against Granna Mae’s soft cheek and gave her a kiss.
Granna Mae gave no indication if she knew he was Paul Mackenzie or if she thought he was her son. Sierra admired Paul all the more when he spoke to Granna Mae. He knew she might be confused about who he was, but that didn’t matter to him. He treated her with dignity and tenderness. “Would you like to ride to the restaurant with me?” Paul asked Granna Mae, bending down so he could look her in the eyes.
“Oh, yes. I’d love to go with you and Becky.”
Paul shot a questioning look at Sierra. She gestured that she had no idea who Becky was.
Sierra’s mom stepped forward. “That’s a great idea, Granna Mae. Why don’t we all go in Paul’s car?” Mrs. Jensen took Sierra by the elbow and urged her into the backseat of the dark blue sedan while Paul helped Granna Mae into the front seat. Mrs. Jensen leaned over and whispered to Sierra, “Becky was Paul’s fiancée. They got engaged the week before he left for Vietnam. You’ve probably met her. She married Mrs. Kraus’s brother.”
Sierra shook her head. She didn’t remember any relatives of Mrs. Kraus’s named Becky ever coming into the bakery. It was all too strange—too connected. It reminded Sierra, as she had noted in the past, that everyone is so connected it’s a good idea not to alienate or offend others. Right now Paul was doing an exceptionally good job of honoring Granna Mae and helping Sierra and her mom make this a comfortable situation for both families. Sierra’s heightened opinion of Paul almost made up for their reunion being awkward. Almost, but not quite.
As they drove through the beach town’s narrow streets, Sierra considered what maneuvers might be necessary for her to sit next to Paul at the restaurant. If she could make those arrangements, she felt certain she and Paul could relate on a more comfortable level. All the letters they had exchanged for the past year and the phone conversations in which they had laughed together late at night had led Sierra to believe they were very close—boyfriend-and-girlfriend close, even though they had never used those terms nor had they ever defined their relationship. The only part that had been missing over this year had been the physical contact. Sierra felt certain that if they could just break that barrier, their relationship would move forward.
By the time they pulled into the parking lot of the large Mexican restaurant, Sierra had dreamed up a lovely plan. She would sit next to Paul, nice and close, and without anyone else knowing it, they would hold hands under the table. Her plan was to be close enough and her hand accessible enough that Paul would know instinctively to take it. That way he would be making the first move—sort of. She also had a backup plan. If he didn’t take her hand, she would slip her fingers over his, and then he could decide what position their holding hands should take, and they could adjust.
It seemed perfect. Of course, being inexperienced at these things, Sierra was a little unsure of how it would all actually happen. The most important thing to her was that it would be natural. The memory of it would be wonderfully sweet and would help erase the memory of their silly encounter in the kitchen.
But none of her careful planning included Granna Mae’s unpredictable actions and her selective memory.
eight
BEFORE SIERRA had stepped three feet away from Paul’s car, Granna Mae reached for Sierra’s hand and held it tightly. Her grandmother smiled happily and appeared coherent. Then she reached out her hand to Paul, inviting him to take her other hand. While Mrs. Jensen waited for the others to arrive, Granna Mae, Paul, and Sierra walked hand in hand through the parking lot and into the restaurant.
Sierra tried to steal a glance at Paul to see how he was reacting to this. He was studying his sandals as he walked and seemed unaware of Sierra’s glances.
They entered the restaurant, and Granna Mae proudly announced to the hostess and several people waiting to be seated, “They’re getting married!” She held up her arms so that Sierra and Paul’s hands were raised as if in triumph.
“Congratulations,” the hostess said.
“We’re, um …” Paul hesitated. He glanced at Granna Mae and then flashed a quick look at Sierra. “We’re here for the Mackenzie party. I believe we have the back room reserved.”
“Oh, yes. For the engagement party. Congratulations again.”
Paul nodded his thanks, playing along for Granna Mae’s sake. Sierra noticed his neck had turned red. His face was turned away from her, but Granna Mae still had a lock grip on both their hands.
Sierra wanted to burst out laughing again. She knew if she did, it would take the tension out of this crazy situation and help Paul relax. But an outburst of Sierra’s wild, pent-up laughter would probably upset her grandmother. Opting for Granna Mae’s stability, Sierra swallowed her nervous laughter and prayed that Granna Mae wouldn’t make another announcement to the Jensen and Mackenzie families, which had now entered the restaurant.
As hard as she tried, Sierra couldn’t get Granna Mae to let go of her hand. The way they were headed, Granna Mae would be sitting between her and Paul the entire dinner. Sierra panicked at the thought.
Like a bad plot in a TV sitcom, Sierra’s worst predictions came true. Granna Mae did sit between Paul and her. The speaker above Sierra’s head played loud mariachi music throughout the whole meal. Everyone else was so busy chatting that no one noticed that Granna Mae kept holding Sierra’s hand under the table, as if she were insecure and couldn’t bring herself to let go.
Sierra tried to remind herself that this party was for Tawni. It was her engagement, her time to shine. And she did so—beautifully. Every now and then Tawni and Jeremy exchanged tender looks. Twice he kissed her on the cheek, and once she burst out laughing at something he said. Her laugh was wonderfully melodic, the kind Sierra had heard only a few times from her sister. Sierra knew Tawni was happy—deliriously happy—and that was supposed to matter the most.
However, Sierra was experiencing a desperate, sinking feeling—a deep sadness because none of her dreams were coming true. She had waited so long to see Paul, to be with him. And now nothing was going the way she had hoped.
Why isn’t Paul trying to talk to me? she thought as she picked at her meal. He could have found a way to sit next to me if he had wanted to. Maybe he doesn’t want to. Maybe the feelings I have for him don’t match any he has for me. Maybe this is all a huge mistake, a big joke, and I’m the punch line.
Sierra’s head hurt. She knew it was partly due to the impractical hairstyle. With all her heart she wished she could go back to the house, change out of her tight dress that was becoming uncomfortable to sit in, wash the sticky makeup off her face, and release her curls from their fashion prison. Then she would find her way down the trail by the gazebo, dig her bare feet into the sand, and let the gentle Pacific waves tickle her toes.
The evening dragged on as each of the fathers stood to say something wonderful about their children. Tomorrow afternoon a big engagement reception would be held at the church in San Diego where Paul and Jeremy’s dad was the pa
stor. Tonight was just for family, and so the speeches were personal.
Both fathers pledged their wholehearted support to Jeremy as he took this next step into manhood. Sierra’s dad invited Jeremy to come to him at any time if he needed anything, and then he charged Jeremy to take his responsibilities to Tawni seriously as he now made public his pledge to marry her. Pastor Mackenzie then stood and read a verse from Ephesians about Christians being Christ’s bride and how Christ gave Himself for her. Jeremy’s father talked about the Hebrew tradition in which the bridegroom would declare publicly his love for and commitment to his bride and then go to prepare a place for them to live.
“This is a beautiful picture of what Christ has done for us,” Pastor Mackenzie said, his deep voice booming over the piped-in mariachi music. “Christ came to earth to declare His undying love for us. He even called us His bride. Then He returned to His Father’s house to prepare a place for us. One day soon He’ll come back for us and take us to be with Him forever. Until that day, Christ has left the Holy Spirit with us as evidence of His commitment to those who believe in Him. The Holy Spirit is God’s engagement ring around our lives, His promise that we will one day be united with Him.”
Sierra felt a rush of goose bumps stream up her arms. She had never seen the parallel before. Being a Christian meant she was, in a sense, spiritually engaged to the Lord. He loved her and wanted her to be with Him forever. The truth burrowed itself in her heart.
Pastor Mackenzie sat down, and Jeremy stood. He looked a little nervous but determined. In his hand he held a small black box. Turning to face a radiant Tawni, he said, “I now want to make a promise to you, Tawni. This ring is a symbol of my commitment to you and evidence to others of my love for you. In giving it to you, I’m asking that you will save yourself for me alone and that one day soon you’ll marry me and spend the rest of your life with me.”
Tears clouded Sierra’s eyes. She saw the twins of her own tears running down her sister’s cheeks as Tawni stood and gracefully held out her hand to Jeremy. “I accept this ring with all my heart, Jeremy. And yes, I promise to marry you.”
Sierra could hear sniffs all around the table as the women and some of the men tried to keep back their tears. Sierra noticed that, miraculously, the annoying music had stopped, and the room was silent as the family watched Jeremy take the ring from the box and slip it on Tawni’s finger. The newly committed couple tenderly, comfortably, kissed each other.
Enthusiastic applause burst from around the long table, and as if on cue, the music cranked up again, with trumpets blaring right above Sierra’s head. She clapped and wished her oldest brother, Cody, could have been there. He and his wife, Katrina, recently had had a baby girl, and she had been sick with an ear infection, which made it unwise to travel since she was so young. If Cody and Katrina had been there, then it would have really felt as if the whole Jensen family were entering into this engagement with Tawni. A Mackenzie family member was missing, too. Paul and Jeremy also had an older brother who wasn’t able to join them, although Sierra never heard exactly why.
Tawni sat down and admired the sparkling diamond ring on her finger. Her smile was electric, and Sierra was sure she had never seen her sister happier.
Wiping away her tears with a napkin, Sierra noticed she left a streak of foundation on the white cloth. She had wanted to look past Granna Mae over at Paul to see how he was reacting to all this, but the realization that her tears had probably made a mess of Tawni’s makeup job prompted Sierra to quietly excuse herself and make an exit for the restroom.
One glance in the mirror and Sierra knew she couldn’t take the hairdo or the heavy makeup another minute. It wasn’t that she looked bad or overdone by the standards of most magazines. Tawni had done an expert job, and the mascara must have been smudge-proof because no evidence showed of its smearing. Sierra just didn’t look like herself. And that bothered her.
She was about to start pulling out the bobby pins when the door to the restroom opened and her mom stepped in.
“Are you all right?” she asked Sierra.
“Yes. I thought I’d smeared this makeup all over my face when I started to cry. Wasn’t that beautiful—what the dads said and when Jeremy gave her the ring?”
Mrs. Jensen nodded and smiled. “It was wonderful. I wanted to make sure you were okay, though.”
Sierra nodded. “I’m tired of being Tawni’s beauty makeover project. I want to wash my face and take down my hair.”
“You had better wait,” Mrs. Jensen said. “Everyone is ready to leave now. Catherine has dessert for us back at the house, and I think Granna Mae is about as confused as she’s ever been.”
“I know,” Sierra said. “She thought Paul and I were announcing our engagement! She told the hostess and everyone in the waiting area that we were getting married.”
“Oh dear,” Mrs. Jensen said, biting her lower lip. Sierra never noticed it before, but her mother did that often. That had to be where Sierra picked up the habit. “I’ve noticed you and Paul haven’t exactly said a lot to each other. Is everything okay between you?”
Before Sierra could answer, Paul’s mom entered the bathroom and said, “There you two are. We’re ready to go. Paul and Jeremy have already left, so you can both come with me.”
“What about Granna Mae?” Mrs. Jensen asked.
“She went with Paul. I don’t think she was willing to let go of his arm for anything. It’s kind of sweet the way she has taken to him.”
Sierra followed her mom and Paul’s mom to the parking lot and sat in the car’s backseat. As soon as they reached the house, Sierra rushed to the guest room. She wriggled herself out of Tawni’s bronze dress and slipped into her cutoff jeans. It felt wonderful to breathe again. Rummaging through Tawni’s neatly organized clothes, Sierra found a sweatshirt and carried it into the bathroom.
She released her captive curls, scrubbed her face, and removed all the eye makeup. The face that returned her gaze a moment later was a much happier, less sophisticated, much cleaner face. The only problem was the shiner. It hadn’t magically gone away while the makeup covered it.
Sierra considered trying to dab a little of Tawni’s concealer back on the blackened area, but she wasn’t sure it would work without all the other layers Tawni had applied. She pulled the sweatshirt over her head and shook out her tangled tresses before running a hair pick through them.
“This is the real me,” Sierra declared to her reflection, as if she were preparing for what she would say to Paul when he saw the downsized version of her hair and face. “Take me for what I am or walk away now, buddy, because this is reality.”
As soon as she said it, Sierra had a terrible thought. What if Paul did decide to walk away? What if all this reality was a little too much for him? And could she blame him? The guy had just spent a quiet year in the Scottish Highlands, and here he was, with her wacky Granna Mae clinging to him and making false public announcements, and his brother and her sister entering into a sacred agreement. What if Paul did get a good look at the reality that was and would always be “Sierra Jensen”? What if she walked into that living room and this guy, who had captured her heart through his words written in bold, black letters on a hundred sheets of onionskin paper, decided to walk away?
Time seemed to freeze.
“There’s only one way to find out,” Sierra finally told her reflection. “It’s now or never.”
nine
WHEN SIERRA ENTERED the living room, wearing her own familiar sandals, her well-worn jeans shorts, and Tawni’s sweatshirt, she found the room empty. All the voices seemed to be coming from the backyard.
Walking through the kitchen and out the back door, she found the group gathered around the patio table and sitting on the chaise lounges and cushioned patio chairs. Lindy Mackenzie was busy helping Gavin and Dillon scoop ice cream for themselves from the cartons set on the table. It appeared that dessert was a make-it-yourself ice cream sundae bar.
Sierra looked around for
Paul. He wasn’t there. Her heart started flip-flopping again. What if he had left? What if he already had done a reality check, and, having fulfilled his duty as a good son and brother by attending the engagement dinner, he had taken off?
Before she could sink into a bog of despair, Paul’s deep voice sounded from behind her. “This was the only one in the freezer in the garage.” He placed a carton of vanilla ice cream on the table. “Do you want me to go to the store for some more chocolate ice cream?”
“No, this is fine. Just fine,” his mom said. “I think we have plenty.” When Lindy looked up at Paul, she noticed Sierra standing at the table with her back to him. Sierra hadn’t quite gotten up the nerve to turn around and face him. The look on Mrs. Mackenzie’s face showed that she was surprised by Sierra’s transformation. Sierra saw a trace of a wince, too, which was probably directed at the black eye. Then Mrs. Mackenzie smiled just as she had when she first had hugged Sierra and said, “Did you get yourself a sundae yet, Sierra?”
“Not yet.” She was thankful Mrs. Mackenzie hadn’t made a big to-do about how different Sierra looked. She could almost feel Paul staring at the back of her head, willing her to turn around, but she kept her chin tucked and bit her lip.
“Me neither,” Paul said. He stretched his arm past Sierra on her left side, reaching for a bowl. She felt his arm brush her shoulder. He picked up two bowls and held one out for Sierra. “Here you go,” he said.
Sierra drew in a deep breath and slowly turned to face him. She hoped her sincere, fresh, clean smile would make up for the shock when he saw her like this, only inches away.
Paul didn’t even flinch. He stared the way she remembered him staring at her on the plane when they first met. His hand went gently to the black circle under her eye, and he touched her cheek just to the side of the bruise, the way a child might touch a floating soap bubble in fascination.
“It was an accident,” Sierra explained before Paul could ask. “In the car on the way here. A can of root beer.”