Chapter 2 - THE CHAIR THAT WASN'T EMPTY
Eric rubbed his forehead, then lowered his hand.
"Mom, Vivian showed me what you wrote."
Linda stared at him.
"What I wrote?"
"Don't pretend you don't remember."
The words hurt more than the order to leave.
Linda had raised Eric through broken bones, school disappointments, his father's illness, and the long, lonely years after the funeral.
She had never imagined hearing her son speak to her like a stranger caught telling a lie.
"Tell me what she showed you," Linda said.
Eric glanced toward the ballroom.
"She said you threatened to stop the wedding unless she agreed to your demands."
Linda felt the blood drain from her face.
"That's what she told you?"
"She showed me your note."
Linda remembered the note perfectly.
She had delivered it to Vivian Keene the previous afternoon, after discovering something she believed Eric deserved to know.
If you don't stop this, I will.
Seven words.
But the note had never mentioned the wedding.
It concerned something else entirely.
"Eric, I wasn't talking about your marriage."
"Then what were you talking about?"
"Let me explain somewhere private."
"That's exactly what Vivian said you'd do. Make a scene, corner people, and ruin everything."
Linda stepped backward.
Not because he frightened her physically.
Because she suddenly understood that her son had been prepared to distrust her before she arrived.
"Did you ask me what the note meant?"
Eric said nothing.
"Did you call me?"
"I was getting married, Mom. I didn't have time for another argument."
Another argument.
As though thirty-seven years of loving him could be reduced to an inconvenience.
Linda looked beyond his shoulder.
Through the open ballroom doors, she could see tables decorated with white roses and pale-blue ribbons.
She had helped choose those ribbons.
Nine-year-old Elsie had insisted on them because they reminded her of the little blue rescue boat Linda's late husband once kept at Cedar Landing.
Elsie was Mara Keene's daughter.
And in a few minutes, when Eric married Mara, he would officially become the little girl's stepfather.
Linda loved Elsie already.
The child had spent three afternoons helping her arrange wedding favors, carefully tying every ribbon with her small, determined fingers.
"Where's Elsie?" Linda asked.
"With Mara."
"She wanted me to help fasten her bracelet."
"Someone else will do it."
Linda lowered her eyes.
Inside her handbag lay a tiny silver bracelet with a blue enamel sailboat.
She had bought it months earlier.
On the inside were three engraved words.
Always your family.
Eric noticed her looking down.
"Please don't make this about Elsie."
"I'm not."
"Then go home."
Linda lifted her head.
"Does Mara know you've asked me to leave?"
His hesitation was brief.
But it was there.
"Vivian explained the situation."
"That isn't what I asked."
"Mom."
"Did Mara tell you she doesn't want me at her wedding?"
Eric looked toward the reception hall again.
"She doesn't need this today."
Linda finally understood.
Her son had made the decision without speaking directly to the woman he was marrying.
And he expected Linda to disappear quietly enough that nobody would question it.
A young waiter approached carrying a silver tray of place cards.
"Mr. Dawson?"
Eric turned sharply.
"Not now."
"I'm sorry, sir. Mrs. Keene asked me to deliver the revised seating arrangement."
The waiter offered him a folded sheet.
Eric took it.
Linda saw the heading.
HEAD TABLE — FINAL ARRANGEMENT
Beneath the names of the bride and groom were Vivian Keene, several relatives, and a man Linda didn't recognize from the wedding preparations.
Graham Pike.
The name stopped her.
She knew exactly who he was.
And suddenly, Eric's behavior began to make terrible sense.
"Why is Graham Pike sitting at your wedding table?" she asked.
Eric folded the paper.
"That's none of your concern."
"It is when he's the developer trying to close Cedar Landing."
Eric's expression changed.
"Lower your voice."
Linda stared at him.
"You know."
"Mom, please."
"You know what they're planning to do."
He stepped closer.
"Not another word."
Linda's hands began trembling.
Her husband Frank had spent twenty-six years keeping that little landing open so families could reach the lake without paying private marina fees.
He had died five years earlier.
Now the man planning to demolish it had been given her place at her son's wedding.
Linda looked at Eric one final time.
"Did you invite him?"
Eric swallowed.
May you like
Then he said something she would remember for the rest of her life.
"He's the reason I can afford to give Mara the life she deserves."
