Holly Jacobs - A Walk Down the Aisle

Weird. Forget Mayberry. This place was Twilight Zone-ish. Her mom loved that show, too. And her mother liked really bad disaster films. The kind they showed on cable late at night. Her mom used the DVR for them all. Tori couldn’t count how many times she’d seen the world almost hit by asteroids or the moon, or overrun by a zombie apocalypse or some killer virus. But thankfully, some B actor or actress always saved the day at the last minute.

Guilt ate at her. She knew she could head back right now and there was a chance her parents would never know what she’d done. Her mom had some all-day college thing that she’d dragged her dad to.

But Tori also knew she couldn’t do that. She had to get answers. She’d tried to explain her need to her mom, but her mom hadn’t understood. Tori had always gotten along with her mom and dad, even though most of her friends didn’t understand it. She still loved them, but she was so freakin’ angry. She couldn’t seem to get a handle on her emotions. Not that it was the first time she’d felt confused. Her dad said it was normal to be moody in your teens. If that was the case, Tori couldn’t wait to be in her twenties.

She checked her phone’s GPS again and left the ghost town’s main street, heading into a residential neighborhood. Five blocks later, she arrived in front of a house that would have made Hansel and Gretel go all gingerbread.

It was a tan one-story house. Its shutters and window boxes were bright yellow, as were the zillion flowers planted all around the tiny yard, with its picket fence and wooden arch, which had flowery vines hanging off it.

Maybe Hansel and Gretel was the wrong fairy tale. This was more about contrary Mary and her growing garden.

Looking at the cheery little house that seemed to scream happy made Tori feel pissed. Really pissed.

The anger was a deep burning in the pit of her stomach. It had been there ever since she’d seen the letter on her mother’s desk. It had been addressed to Sophie Johnston in care of the New Day Adoption Agency. Her mom had been lecturing her on her blue hair, about how people’s perceptions are shaped by first impressions, and what was it she hoped to say with blue hair? Tori had rolled her eyes and spotted the envelope. She’d picked it up, seen the name and then held it out to her mom, who stopped midlecture and turned pale.

That’s when Tori had known the truth. Her parents weren’t hers. Somewhere out there, two other people were her real mom and dad.

Fighting about hair dye had seemed like a very minor thing as she had gotten into it with her mom over the fact she’d kept such a big secret. “I planned on telling you when you were eighteen,” her mom had said. Her mom had wanted her to be mature enough to handle the news.

Tori had almost doubled over from the pain of knowing that she wasn’t Victoria Peace Allen, the only daughter of Gloria and Dom Allen. She wasn’t sure who she was, but she needed to know.

Her mother wouldn’t tell her anything. She kept saying, “When you’re eighteen...” As if eighteen were some magic number. Like all of a sudden, Tori would decide no, she didn’t need to know who she was and where she came from. Like in four years she wouldn’t wonder what kind of woman could give away her baby.

Tori opened the stupid gate of the stupid fairy-tale house, and her anger grew. This was where her biological mother lived? In a pretty little house in a freakin’ nice little town. Not a care in the world, and certainly no worries about some baby she gave away fourteen years ago.

No. This woman had just handed over her child and gone on with her life. Her very happy, gingerbread house life.

Tori stormed up to the door and pounded on it.

When there was no answer, she pounded on the door again, and gave it a quick kick. A black mark from her boot marred its cheery yellowness. For some reason, that made her feel better. Here was the tangible evidence that she existed. Something her biological mother couldn’t deny.

Tori was about to kick the door a second time when she heard someone say, “Pardon me.”

Tori turned and saw a cop car, with a young blond guy who didn’t look very coplike despite his uniform. “Sophie’s already gone to the wedding.”

“Oh.” Oh, so Sophie had joined the Twilight Zone masses at this wedding of the century?

“Did you miss the bus to the wedding?” the cop asked.

“Yeah,” she lied. And walked over to the cop car. It had VRPD stenciled on the doors, and a bar of lights on the roof.

“Well, come on and get in.” He leaned over and opened the passenger door. “I’ll give you a lift. I’m heading out there myself.”

Tori had listened to her parents lecture her on stranger-danger since she was old enough to speak. Getting in a car with a person you didn’t know was never a good idea. That’s why she’d stolen her father’s car. It seemed like a better idea than hitchhiking. But this was a cop. There was a box in the backseat that was wrapped in wedding paper, so his story seemed plausible. Tori opted to get in the car. A wedding would give her a perfect opportunity to observe her biological mother without being noticed.

She climbed into the passenger seat and asked, “Don’t you have to protect the town from...whatever criminals do in towns like this?”

The cop didn’t take offense; instead, he smiled. “I think the entire town is at the wedding. I’m predicting things will be fine if I take a wedding break.” He paused, and said, “Buckle up.”

Tori complied, and tried not to think about how much that sounded like her dad, and how scared her dad was going to be when he found out she was gone.

“I’m Dylan, by the way,” the cop said as he pulled away from the gingerbread house.

“Tori,” she said.

“Bride’s side or groom’s?”

“I’m here to see Sophie.”

“Bride’s side it is then,” he said with a grin. “It’s a beautiful day for her wedding, isn’t it? Her and Colton...”

The cop kept on talking, but Tori wasn’t really listening as she tried to digest the fact that Sophie hadn’t simply gone to this wedding that shut down Mayberry—she was the bride, the reason the entire place was closed.

Tori had just found her mother, and here she was getting married.

The anger that had burned in her belly since she’d seen that envelope blazed with new heat.

Fourteen years ago, this Sophie had handed her baby over to strangers then had carried on with her life without a second thought. She’d thrown Tori out like some unread, unwanted newspaper.

And now she was getting married to someone. Getting ready to start a new life and probably have scads of kids with him.

Kids she’d keep.

Tori didn’t know what to do. She wished her mom and dad were here.

She’d found her birth mother and was going to crash her wedding.

CHAPTER ONE

Dear Baby Girl,

I know I usually write your letter on your birthday, but I wanted to share today with you. Today I marry the man of my dreams. My friends keep saying we’re perfect together, and while you and I both know I’m anything but perfect, he is. And I feel as if he makes me a better person. And I’m hoping if we ever meet that’s what you find...a better person.

SOPHIE JOHNSTON ROUNDED the corner of the barn, getting her first glimpse of her fiancé’s surprise for her. It was a large white arbor, practically dripping with white flowers. Colton had wanted to do something special for their wedding, and she was willing to let him do whatever made him happy because there was only one thing she needed at this wedding—him.

Her two bridesmaids and best friends, Lily and Mattie, walked up the aisle, their slow step-pause gait making her crazy because, frankly, all she wanted to do was bolt down the aisle to Colton’s side.