“I know,” she told Grant. “I still miss himthough.”
“I miss him too.” He sighed. “I’m going tohead back.”
“I’ll be inside in a minute.” Chantelle’sbrother left her alone inside the tree house, and she hugged herknees to her chest as she leaned against the wood panel wall. Notwanting to worry her mother, she climbed down from the tree houseand walked back inside. She skipped the dining room and hurried toher bedroom.
She sat on her bed and stared at her oldwooden desk, which held a lamp, her phone charger, and pens. Herdresser sported the stray coins her father had given her and framedpictures of her and her old friends. Trophies from her basketballand volleyball days stared back at her, and posters of her favoritemusic artists still hung on the wall. The music group Dru Hillbeing one of them.
Chantelle could remember the movies she usedto watch in her room along with the music she would play whilestudying. She would arrange her nail polish on her dresser,experimenting with various colors. Then a knock sounded at herdoor. She grabbed a pillow and clutched it to her chest.
“Come in,” she said.
Her mother peeped inside. “Are you okay?” Shethen came inside, shutting the door behind her.
“I’ll be fine,” she replied.
Her mother sat next to her. “Chantelle?”
“Mom, it’s fine.”
Her mother’s features softened. “I knowhaving Douglas as my husband will take some getting used to. It’s achange for all of us.”
“I’m happy for you, Mom.”
Chantelle’s mother took her hand. “I know youare. Remember that love doesn’t die with a person. I’ll always loveyour father.”
She clasped onto her mother’s hand. “I knowthat. I need time, that’s all. I’m working on it.”
Her mother then brought her into a hug. “Doyou want me to bring your dessert in here?”
Chantelle patted her mother’s back andreleased her hold on her. “No. I’ll go to bed. Can you telleveryone I said goodnight?”
Her mother bobbed her head. “I’ll tell them.Get some rest.” Her mother stood to her feet and exited herroom.
***
From tasting chocolate to lemon flavor, Lancesettled on the red velvet cake. His mother made sure he calledAndrea for her input. He didn’t care about cake, much less choosingflowers. All that mattered was… Chantelle.
He shook the thought from his mind. His gazelowered to his empty plate with a few crumbs left behind. He’dthought of her over the years, but it only made his stomach turnsour thinking of his own mistakes. Lance had been too scared toknow he met his soulmate at eighteen.
A huff escaped his mouth. Soulmate? The termdidn’t exist. Rubbing at his eyebrow, he pushed his plate away.
“Lance?” His mother waved her hand at him toget his attention.
“You say something?” He ran his hand down hisface.
“What is it with you? You’ve been in a moodsince you got here,” she said.
“It’s nothing. Long day, that’s all.” Hewouldn’t tell his mother Chantelle was back in town again. He’dheard enough of his mother’s opinions for one day.
His mother fluffed her loose, shortsalt-pepper curls in her hair. Then she held her compact mirror inher slender hand as she scrutinized her appearance. It was alwaysappearances with her. Ever since he was a boy, he lived his lifeaccording to what others thought.
Lance’s father wasn’t much help running hisown law practice. Arrogance. Why did some use their education toact superior to others? Couldn’t they use their influence for good?Lance’s childhood played in his mind. His mother ran the household,along with him and his sister. Amelia would have been twenty-fivetoday. Lance shut his eyes for a moment. He needed to visit hislittle sister’s gravesite.
She would have been a terrific athlete atfourteen, since she desired to be a professional swimmer. Her coachreminded her to count her strokes when in the water. However, theday of her first high school swim meet, Amelia had hit her head.She was later pronounced dead on the way to the hospital.
“If only we had more time for this wedding,”his mother said, fiddling with her diamond studded earring.
“It’s Andrea’s schedule.” He answered.
“Well, at least she comes from an excellentfamily, despite her parents splitting. Her father’s a senator, andher mother was—”
“Shannon Hall, the retired AcademyAward-winning actress. I know, Mom.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m onlysaying that this wedding will be the talk of the town. We can’tafford any hiccups. Make sure you’re up bright and early for yourfirst interview tomorrow with the reporter.”
Lance would much rather sleep in and stay inbed. All he did nowadays was travel back and forth across the USA.Conference calls with CEOs. Zoom meetings. Reading andrenegotiating contracts. He rarely had a day off.
Once upon a time, making deals gave him anadrenaline rush. He couldn’t wait to make partner in his father’slaw firm, but at what price? When was the last time he enjoyedworking a case? Life wasn’t about fun all the time, but Lancecouldn’t recall the last time he loved his work.
He blinked. A dream. He overrated passion inwork along with the soulmate jargon. People worked to make aliving. He did pro bono work in the past. That’s how he connectedwith the town’s community center.
“I’ll talk with the baker one more timebefore we leave. Just in case we missed something.” His motherdidn’t give him a chance to respond. She strutted away.
Lance pulled his lips in and called hisfiancé. He waved goodnight to the baker and walked to his car.After three rings in the background, Andrea answered. Loud musicflooded his ear along with muffled voices.
“Andrea? Are you there?” He asked.
“Hey, Babe. We finished shooting for today,so we’re out celebrating.” She answered.
“Can you talk? I can barely hear you.”
He heard rustling along with an “excuse me”before the noise died down. “How about now?”
“That’s better. How did it go?”
“Amazing!” She shrieked.
Lance chuckled at her excitement. “That’sgreat.” Passion for her work. His chest swelled with pride. “Whendo you think you’ll be wrapping it up?”
“Well… I’ve been meaning to talk to you aboutthat. There’s talk of another shoot in…”
“Where?”
“Rome, Italy or Paris, France. They’re stillworking out the details.”
He shut his eyes and exhaled. “I thought weagreed no more modeling gigs before the wedding.”
“I know, but I talked with the
