A Wedding in December

“Maybe they were talking about someone else’s divorce.”

“Think, Rosie.” There was a note of exasperation in Katie’s voice. “Even you admit they’ve been behaving oddly since they got here.”

“They’re demonstrative, but it’s nice.”

“It’s fake. It’s an act especially for us.”

Rosie felt wobbly. “I don’t believe you.”

“I honestly wish it wasn’t true, but it is and as you don’t believe me there’s only one way to deal with this.” Katie took her hand and pulled her toward the door.

“Where are we going?”

“To see our parents. If we show up unannounced they won’t have time to prepare for us. It’s time they told you the truth.”

Katie

Driven by frustration, Katie strode along the snowy path that led to the tree house. If she’d been walking in heels on a marble floor her footsteps would have been loud and purposeful. Heads would have turned, and people would have speculated. As it was, the snow muffled the emotion that flowed into each stride. The few birds searching vainly for food paid little attention.

“Katie!” Rosie’s voice came from behind her. “Slow down. Better still, stop.”

The sun was shining and the only reminder of the blizzard was the fresh layer of snow coating the trees and catching the light with blinding beauty.

For once, Katie didn’t notice the beauty. How could her parents not have told Rosie the truth? Why was she the one who’d had to deliver the news and hurt her sister? They’d had all day to do it and yet, apparently, they’d kept up their “second honeymoon” act, and even gone out to dinner again the night before. It seemed that they were determined to continue their deception. Not only that, but they now expected Katie to join in and play her part. And that wasn’t going to happen. No way. It was wrong. Why couldn’t they be open and honest?

She ignored the tiny voice in her head that reminded her she hadn’t been open and honest with her family, either. That was different. Totally different.

Avoiding that thought, she stomped up the steps to the tree house, holding tight to the wooden rail so she didn’t slip. That rail made her think of Jordan, and the night they’d shared.

He’d been quiet on the drive over to the lodge. She’d been equally quiet. She’d had no idea what to say after a night like the one they’d shared. They were intimate strangers.

Ignoring her own inner turmoil, she opened the door of her parents’ tree house.

It was ten in the morning, but there were no signs of life.

Had they already gone out somewhere? Another bonding activity?

She stepped inside and tugged off her boots. Moments later, Rosie appeared, breathless and pink-cheeked. Dan and Jordan were with her.

Katie hadn’t expected them to come, too, but maybe it was better that everyone found out the truth at the same time. It would save repeated explanations.

The living room looked faintly abandoned. A stray cushion lay on the floor forgotten. There were no blankets on the sofa. No sign that this had provided a bed for her father.

The lights on the Christmas tree twinkled, and she wondered how it could still look so festive and cheerful. Surely some of the gloom and sadness should have dimmed those lights?

On the table stood an empty bottle of wine and two glasses.

She turned away and something on the floor caught her eye. A wisp of fabric. A bra. A lacy, silky confection that looked as if it had been torn off and abandoned in the heat of the moment. Katie stared at it, and then at the trail of clothes that marked a path to the bedroom. The door was open a crack, as if the last person to walk through it had been too distracted to close it.

And then she heard sounds. A low moan.

Her brain froze and all the words she’d gathered up ready to speak froze right along with it.

Rosie put a hand on her arm. “We need to get out of here.” She whispered the words and glanced toward the bedroom door.

Katie shook her off. Had their parents heard them arrive? Was this another of their fake togetherness scenes?

“We’re talking to them now.”