A Wedding on Lilac Lane Hope Ramsay (general ebook reader TXT) 📖

“Have you ever played in a string quartet?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m afraid not.”

He nodded enigmatically, then headed toward the door. His praise and that huge tip did a lot to improve her mood. So she managed a smile when Ashley came into the library a moment later.

“I had no idea you’d been working so hard with Jackie,” the innkeeper said. “Thank you so much for paying attention to him. He was amazing. You were…You are amazing.”

“He’s got musical talent, I think. And it wasn’t work. It was fun. And I’m really sorry about Cody. He’s such a—”

“That was not your fault. But I’m worried about that guy. Maybe you should think about getting a protective order. If you need help with that, I have friends in the police department.”

“He’s not abusive. Not really. He’s just a jerk. And he’s desperate for a fiddler.”

Which was true. Maybe Cody’s arrival was exactly what she needed.

The big question was whether she could go back on the road with Cody and not be his girlfriend. If that was possible, she could save a lot of time. She could join him on the road after Mom’s wedding, earn a few more dollars, then leave Urban Armadillo and head off to Nashville. Of course Cody wouldn’t like that plan much.

Which would be a complication. But she could make more money if she toured with him for the rest of the summer. In Nashville, she might have to get some minimum-wage waitressing job while she was trying to break into the studios.

“By the way,” Ashley said, pulling her from her thoughts, “you should expect a couple of phone calls. I gave your number to a bride who needs someone to play at her wedding, and also you should know that Norton Treloar, one of the board members of the Myrtle Beach Symphony, was here today. He asked for your contact information.”

“What?”

“I might have invited Norton to hear you play,” she said with a wink. “He’s always looking for violinists.”

“But I’m not classically trained, and I completely messed up the Borodin.”

“Did you? I didn’t notice. And Norton seemed to think you had talent. I think he gave you a tip?”

“That guy? He’s a member of the symphony board?” Ella asked, her voice cracking.

Ashley nodded. “Yes. Now, I need to go supervise the high school kids in the kitchen before they break things.” She turned with an eye roll and headed down the hall, leaving Ella to her insecurities.

Ashley’s words were a comfort, but they didn’t dispel the stubborn hollow spot in the middle of Ella’s core. Would a spot in the local symphony fill that hole? Was she brave enough or good enough for something like that? In a symphony, you had to play the music exactly the way the composer and the director wanted it played. She could do that, with enough practice. But she’d never be as good as Mom at sight-reading. It had always been her downfall.

Staying here in Magnolia Harbor would make Mom so happy. But could she do it?

She spun out a future scenario. If she stayed, she’d have a father figure in her life for the first time ever. Jim was terrific. She’d kind of fallen in love with him too.

If she stayed, she could spend time with Granny, learning all her secret recipes and maybe even learning how to quilt.

If she stayed, she’d have to pretend to be Dylan’s stepsister.

Which was never going to work. Her stubborn imagination kept serving up a vision of a perfect yacht club blonde in a polka-dotted dress who would come along and steal Dylan’s heart forever. That phantom woman would be a card-carrying conservative who worshipped at Grace Methodist. She’d have a recipe for killer meat loaf and be perfect in every way. Hell, she’d be so nice that she’d probably ask Ella to play the violin at their wedding.

Ella almost threw up in her mouth at the thought, right before a vicious wave of jealousy hit her. Damn. She’d fallen in love with Dylan. Now what?

*  *  *

On Saturday night Dylan found himself alone. Funny how he’d never felt alone in Magnolia Harbor before. Dad had always been up for dinner at Rafferty’s, and there was always the crowd at the yacht club.

But tonight, after a grueling eight-hour shift at the free clinic, he’d found himself utterly alone in a house with almost no food in the cupboards or refrigerator. He’d called Dad, but he and Brenda were off for dinner and a movie. Ella was untouchable. And he didn’t want to spend time at the yacht club.

So he took himself to Rafferty’s for one of their surf and turf specials and a beer. And just for a change, he opted to sit on the deck. He could hang out here for a while, listening to the band and watching the bay and feeling sorry for himself.

It was early yet, and the band was still setting up. They looked like a scruffy bunch of misfits. The music would probably be loud and give him a headache.

But at least out here he’d have an excuse to stay for a while, because the last thing he wanted was to go home to that big, empty house. In fact, the more time he stayed in that place by himself, the less he liked it. He was thinking about putting it on the market and finding something smaller.

He hadn’t mentioned that to Dad though. Dad might not be happy about him selling the house, even though Dad had moved to Cloud Nine, figuratively and literally.

Besides, his relationship with Dad was strained to the breaking point, and Dylan didn’t want to rock any more boats. Dad loved Brenda, so naturally he wanted to protect her. Dylan hadn’t really enjoyed dinners at Nancy Jacobs’s condo, but it was still annoying to find himself dis-invited on a regular basis, as if he’d become the black sheep of the family. When had that happened?

He told himself it was for the best.