could have it at the Club.”
“What if they want a church wedding?”
“Even better. Can’t you just imagine how beautiful the sanctuary would be filled with roses?” I nibble my lip and squint, seeing it all in my mind. “Red ones. I’ll call the florist and ask what they’d cost.”
“Won’t the church already be decorated with flowers for the holidays? You could use those and save us some money.”
“Poinsettias are too predictable. Everyone will expect them.” I push against his arm with my palm. “Don’t be such a cheapskate. She’s your only daughter.”
“Hey, I’m not complaining. Spend the money if it makes you happy.” With an indulgent smile, he leans over and pecks my cheek. “I’ll just work harder.” Digging in his pants pocket, he pulls out an antacid and pops it into his mouth.
“We’re doing this for Taylor, not me.”
Carl raises one brow; the corner of his mouth twitches. “Whatever you say.”
I nudge him with an elbow. “Stop it. You’d love a big shindig, too, and you know it.”
“What I’d love is for Taylor to wise up and reconsider. But I’m all for whatever it takes to make my girls smile.” He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “Feeling better?”
Surprised to realize that I am, I grin. “Much.”
“Good.” Carl pats my hand, then returns his attention to his work.
The wedding. I take a deep breath, then start scribbling. Red roses. Mistletoe. A red velvet cake. A string quartet…
CHAPTER 2
“You did what?” I slam the car door.
Behind me, in the back seat of our Lexus, Carl swears softly.
Taylor flips the blinker, turns out of the airport parking lot and lifts her chin. “Mooney and I eloped. And don’t yell at me. I’m trying to drive.” She keeps her focus on the road.
I glance back at Carl. He’s shaking his head and muttering, but he doesn’t appear to be as stunned by the news as I am.
I return my attention to Taylor. Her long blond hair looks sleek and glossy as she tosses it off one shoulder with the flip of a hand. Troy is dark like Carl. But our daughter inherited my Scandinavian coloring. Her temperament, though, is all her own. “When did this elopement take place?”
“Night before last.”
“You could’ve called us,” Carl says.
“I didn’t want to ruin your time with Troy. Besides…” Her mouth curves up slightly at one corner. Her I’ve-got-a-secret smile; I know it well. “I wanted to enjoy at least one day of our honeymoon without having to deal with you being mad at me.” She glances my way when she says this. To hear her talk, anyone would think I rant and rave at her every hour of the day.
“You had a honeymoon?” I ask.
“A mini one. Until we can do it right.”
I cross my arms and lean back. “What did you do?”
That smile again. “Mo-ther.” She giggles.
I lift my gaze to the ceiling. “You know what I meant. Where did you go?”
“We flew to Dallas and stayed at the Mansion.”
Carl blurts a laugh. “I guess sweeping up sawdust at Home Depot pays more than I thought. Or has Mooney changed jobs again? I can’t keep up.”
“He’s a musician.” Another hair flip. “The other jobs are only temporary. Until the band breaks out. Code Freak will have plenty of gigs then, and Mooney will rake it in. They already have lots of fans who follow them everywhere.”
“Tomorrow’s gigs don’t pay for the Mansion today,” Carl says from the back seat.
Taylor’s eyelashes flutter ever so slightly, a movement only a mother would detect. And decipher.
I squint at her. “You paid for the honeymoon, didn’t you. For the hotel and the flight.”
“My money is his now. Just like his is mine.”
“Your money?” Carl sputters. He sticks his head up front between us. “Did you land a job we don’t know about?”
Since graduating in May, Taylor has worked hard on perfecting her tan; that’s the only work she’s done.
“Taylor…” I sigh. “The money in your account is for you to live on while you’re getting your master’s at Tech.”
“We didn’t blow that much.”
“Don’t the other members of Mooney’s band live here? How are they going to practice if he’s living with you in Lubbock while you’re going to school?”
“I’ll apply for the program at WT instead.”
“Isn’t it too late?”
“I’ll apply for the spring semester.”
I glance at Carl. “Do we know anyone at WT I could call?”
Taylor lifts her chin. “I don’t need you to get me in.” She sounds offended.
“Do you know someone?” I ask her.
She glares at me, and I immediately regret my implication. But she knows as well as anyone that her grades are subpar.
I try to find a positive side to all this. If, by some miracle, she does get in at WT, at least she’ll be closer to home. West Texas A&M is twenty minutes away from Amarillo, as opposed to the two hours it takes to drive to Lubbock.
“Please don’t spend any more of the money in that account on extravagances,” I say to her. “It’s for tuition and books. Things like that.”
“Okay. I won’t.”
“Just so you’re not tempted,” Carl says, “I’ll call the bank tomorrow and have you taken off the account.”
“Dad-dy. Don’t you trust me?”
The question elicits a wry chuckle from Carl. “Where do the two of you plan to set up house?”
“In Mooney’s aunt’s garage apartment.”
“That place he lives now?” My stomach drops. I went there with Taylor once when we were shopping and she found Mooney’s cell phone in her purse. He needed it, so we dropped by. The sight of that apartment made me wonder what on earth Mooney had done to brainwash my daughter. Before meeting him, she wouldn’t have stepped foot in such a place. Peeling paint. A dangling shutter. A swamp cooler in the window. A thorny, weedy patch of yard. The
