Kristan Higgins - The Best Man

“So, Faith,” Jack said, “Dad says you’ll be staying here for a while.”

Faith nodded and wiped her mouth. “Yep. Finally gonna fix up the old barn up on Rose Ridge. I’ll be here for about two months.” The longest she’d been back since her wedding debacle, and not just to fix up the barn, either. Both the mission and the length of time gave her a pang of alarm.

“Yay!” Abby said.

“Yay,” Ned echoed, winking at her.

“What are you doing with the old barn?” Pops asked. “Speak up, sweetie.”

“I’ll be turning it into a space for special events, Pops,” she explained. “People would rent it out, and it’d bring in some extra income for the vineyard. Weddings, anniversary parties, stuff like that.” She’d first come up with the idea when she was in graduate school—transform the old stone barn into something that blended into the landscape effortlessly, something modern and old at the same time.

“Oh! Weddings! I’d love to get married again,” Lorena said, winking at Dad, who simply grinned.

“It sounds like too much work for you, sweetheart,” Goggy said.

Faith smiled. “It’s not. It’s a great spot, and I’ve already got some plans drafted, so I’ll show them to everyone and see what you think.”

“And you can do that in two months?” Lorena asked around a potato.

“Sure,” Faith said. “Barring unforeseen complications and all that.” It would be her biggest project yet, and on home turf, too.

“So, what do you do again? Your father’s told me, hell’s bells, all he can do is talk about you kids, but I forget.” Lorena smiled at her. One of her teeth was gold.

“I’m a landscape architect.”

“You should see her work, Lorena,” Dad said. “Amazing.”

“Thanks, Daddy. I design gardens, parks, industrial open space, stuff like that.”

“So you’re a gardener?”

“Nope. I hire gardeners and landscapers, though. I come up with the design and make sure it’s implemented the right way.”

“The boss, in other words,” Lorena said. “Good for you, babe! Hey, are those Hummel figurines real? Those get a pretty penny on eBay, you know.”

“They were my mother’s,” Honor bit out.

“Uh-huh. A very pretty penny. How about some more of that ham, Ma?” she asked Goggy, holding out her plate.

Lorena...okay, she was kind of terrifying, there was no getting around it. Faith had hoped that Honor was exaggerating.

A prickle of nervous energy sang through Faith’s joints. Before she left San Francisco, she and her siblings had had a conference call. Dad was slightly clueless, it was agreed—he’d once been nicked by a car as he stood in the road, staring up at the sky to see if it might rain—but if he was ready to start dating, they could find him someone more suitable. Faith immediately volunteered for the job. She’d come home, work on transforming the old barn, and find Dad somebody great. Someone wonderful, someone who understood him and appreciated how loyal and hardworking and kind he was. Someone to take away the gaping hole Mom’s death had left.

Finally, Faith would have a chance at redemption.

And while she was at it, she’d finally be able to do something for Blue Heron, too, the family business that employed everyone except her.

Dinner was dominated by Lorena’s commentary, bickering between Ned and Abby, who really should be too old for that, as well as the occasional death threat between Goggy and Pops. Norman Rockwell meets Stephen King, Faith thought fondly.

“I’ll do these dishes. Don’t anyone move,” Goggy said, a hint of tragedy creeping into her voice.

“Kids!” Pru barked, and Ned and Abby jolted into action and started clearing.

Honor poured herself an ounce of wine. “Faith, you’ll be staying with Goggy and Pops, did Dad tell you?”

“What?” Faith asked, shooting Pops a quick smile to make up for the panic in her voice. Not that she didn’t love her grandparents, but living with them?

“Pops is slowing down,” Pru said in a whisper, as both grands were a bit hard of hearing.

“I’m not slowing down,” Pops protested. “Who wants to arm wrestle? Jack, you up for it, son?”

“Not today, Pops.”

“See?”

“You look good to me, Dad!” Lorena said. “Really good!”

“He’s not your father,” Goggy growled.

“You wouldn’t mind Faith staying with you, would you?” Dad asked. “You know you’ve been getting a bit...”

“A bit what?” Goggy demanded.

“Homicidal?” Jack suggested.

Goggy glared at him, then looked more gently at Faith. “We would love for you to stay with us, sweetheart. But as a guest, not a babysitter.” Another glare was distributed around the table before Goggy got up and went into the kitchen to instruct the kids.

“Pops, I wanted you to check out the merlot grapes,” Dad said.

“Count me in!” Lorena barked cheerfully, and the three left the dining room.

With Abby and Ned in the kitchen, it was just the four Holland kids around the table. “I’m really staying with them?” she asked.

“It’s for the best,” Honor said. “I have a bunch of stuff in your room, anyway.”

“So check this out,” Pru said, adjusting the collar of her flannel shirt. “Carl suggested that I get a bikini wax the other day.”

“Oh, God,” Jack said.

“What? All of a sudden you’re a prude? Who drove you home from that strip club when you got drunk, huh?”

“That was seventeen years ago,” he said.

“So big deal. Carl wants to ‘spice things up.’” Pru made quote marks with her fingers. “The man is lucky he’s getting any, that’s what I think. What’s your problem, Jack?” she called to Jack’s back as he left.

“I don’t want to hear about your sex life, either,” Honor said. “And I’ll return the favor and won’t tell you about mine.”

“Not that you have one,” Pru said.

“You might be surprised,” Honor returned.

“If I can’t talk to you guys, who am I gonna tell? My kids? Dad? You’re my sisters. You have to listen.”

“You can tell us,” Faith said. “So, no bikini wax, I take it?”

“Thanks, Faithie.” Pru leaned back and crossed her arms across her chest. “So he says to me, why not give it a try? Like the Playboy models? So I say to him, ‘First of all, Carl, if you have a Playboy in this house, you’re a dead man walking. We have a teenage daughter, and I don’t want her looking at fake boobs and slutty hair.’” She shifted in her chair. “A bikini wax! At my age! I have enough trouble with facial hair management.”

“Speaking of terrifying older women,” Faith said, ducking as Pru tried to swat her, “Lorena Creech. Yikes.”

“She asked Jack to sit on her lap the other day,” Pru said. “You should’ve seen his face.”

Faith laughed, stopping as Honor cut her a cool look. “It’s funny until Dad finds himself married to someone who’s only after his money,” Honor said.

“Dad has money?” Pru quipped. “This is news.”

“And he wouldn’t get married without it being someone great,” Faith added.

“Maybe not. But this is the first woman he’s ever had as his ‘special friend,’ too. And why her, I have no idea.” Honor adjusted her hair band. “She’s asked Sharon Wiles about the price of building lots the other day, so, Faith, don’t waste time, okay? I don’t have the time to cruise dating websites. You do.”

With that, she left, going back to her office, no doubt. All Honor did was work.

* * *

THAT NIGHT, AFTER FAITH had brought her stuff to the Old House and returned the rental car to Corning (Dad had said she could use Brown Betty, the aging Subaru wagon, while she was here), she climbed between the clean sheets in her grandparents’ guest room and waited for sleep.