The Accidental Bride
“Forget the food. What happened, Jilly?”
“It was—like a fist at my chest. Nausea. Straining to breathe and dizziness. I lost it. Just plain lost it. The doctors say that … it’s my heart. There’s some kind of atrial valve malformation. And when you factor in the stress of my work, plus the physical demands and the long hours …”
“What’s the diagnosis?”
“They think—well, that it was a heart attack,” Jilly whispered.
“No way.” Grace sank down on the bed. “You’re too young for that.”
“Apparently I’m not.” Jilly took a deep breath. “No more busy Saturday nights at my restaurant. No more Jilly’s Naturals. No more mango tomatillo tamales with espresso chipotle sauce. What am I going to do now, Grace?”
“We’ll be here. All of us. Caro and Olivia and I. It’s going to be fine.”
“How can it be fine? All I’m good at is cooking.”
“Be quiet and listen to me.” Grace gripped Jilly’s shoulders. “You’ve got us and you’ve got the Harbor House. Just remember that. If there’s a way to make this work for you, we’ll think of it together. And if not … then we’ll find a new dream for you to catch and hold. It will be even better than the old ones.”
“But how will I—”
“Just trust someone for once, will you? I learned how to trust again, and so can you. Now tell me everything. Start with what happened in the restaurant and all your symptoms. I’m going to do some research. Then you can get another opinion.”
“Don’t waste your time,” Jilly said softly. Her shoulders slumped as she leaned against Grace. “I saw the X-ray with the shadow. I saw the first lab results. There’s no point in hoping—”
“There’s always a reason to hope. If you say that again, I’m going to deck you, Jilly O’Hara.”
Jilly forced a smile. “If you pull out my EKG monitor, I could expire right here. ‘Death by best friend!’ I can see the headlines in the Summer Island Herald now.” Jilly gave a shaky laugh as Grace handed her a tissue and an expensive chocolate bar. “I’m only supposed to eat what they bring me. Nothing else. Tomorrow there are more tests.”
“I checked with the nurse. One piece is okay. Now dry your eyes and eat. Then we’re going to make a plan of attack.”
“SHE LOOKED SO SAD, almost as if she was broken. I’ve never seen our Jilly look like that.” Grace sat stiffly in the hospital’s big lounge. Outside, purple clouds swept across the distant foothills. Lightning flashed and shimmered, as restless as Grace’s mood.
“I’ve never seen Jilly give up. She’s totally single-minded. Nothing stops her,” Caro said worriedly. Her voice came closer to the phone.
“This thing has. Her doctor says that she’s going to have to change her life 180 degrees or else. No more stress. No more crazy work schedule. Good food, rest and exercise along with medication. Maybe surgery.”
“Jilly doesn’t know how to relax.” Caro sighed, sounding tired. “She never has. This is all so terrible, Grace. I just wish I could be there with you. When can she leave?”
“Probably a week. But I’m staying here, so don’t worry. Meanwhile, we’re making a plan. Tomorrow I’ll talk to her cardiologist and then I’m going to get another opinion. But you need to rest, too, Caro. You sound exhausted.” Since Grace’s departure, all the Harbor House repair work had fallen on Caro. Grace hated leaving her friend in the lurch this way. “I’m fine. Things have been intense here, that’s all.”
“It’s that new contractor, isn’t it? Fire him, will you? You’re too kindhearted by a mile.”
“But he has three kids and a new baby on the way. And his mother used to work at the animal shelter. I can’t just—”
“You can and you damned well better, Caro. If you don’t, then I will. Now go get some sleep. The Harbor House will survive. I’ll text you as soon as I know more about Jilly. We’ll make this work out right. We always do, remember?”
“I remember.” Caro gave a sleepy yawn. “Talk to you tomorrow.”
“Count on it.” Grace frowned. As soon as she broke the connection, her optimism faded.
She wanted to be positive for Jilly. She wanted to believe in a sunny world full of possibilities. But how did you argue with X-rays and heart enzyme tests?
“STOP FIDGETING. READ one of those magazines.”
Jilly punched at her pillow. “I tried. They’re boring.”
“Then read that thriller I left you.”
“It’s stupid. Nobody does ridiculous things like that.” Jilly scowled. “I was rooting for the villain by page ten.”
“Jilly, I give up. You have to rest. The doctor told you that, remember?”
“I’m trying. It’s just not easy.” Jilly shifted restlessly. “Can’t you find me a good magazine? Cook’s Illustrated would be perfect. Or maybe Gourmet—”
“The doctor said no cooking. No more work obsession. You are supposed to relax.”
Jilly blew out an irritated breath. “How can I relax? My salsa line will be dead if I don’t get back to work. And my wholesale produce contact said—”
“Talk to the hand.” Glaring, Grace waved her hand in front of Jilly.
“But—”
“Rest. Otherwise I’ll bang you with that meat mallet I found in your purse.”
“Don’t knock the mallet, pal. I lock up really late at night and the parking lot is empty. That thing makes a great defensive weapon.”
Grace jumped as her cell phone chimed, forgotten in her pocket. It took her a moment to clear her tangled thoughts. “I’ll take this outside.”
“Sure. Go right ahead. I’ll just sit here and let my brain rot slowly.”
Grace shook her head as she walked outside. But when she glanced at her phone, she felt the instant wave of joy … and then the crushing worry.
It was Noah.
She scanned his text quickly.
Called Caro. Got an update. How’s the Salsa Diva doing?
Grace cradled the phone. Noah still caused a flutter at her chest, even after all these months. She hoped that would never go away.
Not so good. Waiting for more tests. It looks like her heart. She’s upset and so am I. I only wish that …
Grace left the sentence hanging and hit the send button. What was there to add? There were still too many questions to predict what would happen next.
Noah would understand. He had read her feelings almost from the first moment they had met. He was smart and decent and also the sexiest man she knew.
But sexy and decent didn’t help when his job kept him tied up 24/7. Lately Grace woke up at night in a cold sweat, seeing dark images of explosive death and shattered limbs. Though few people could be told, Noah was a bomb disposal expert and he was the very best. Because of his experience and thoroughness he had cheated death again and again.
Given how important his job was, Noah couldn’t turn and walk away. No matter the risk.
And because Grace knew how much the job meant to him, she wouldn’t ask him to. While they were perfect together, perfect equals and amazing lovers, a distance had begun to creep between them.
Grace had a suspicion that one day she’d wake up and find the distance too great to cross, and she’d lose the only man she could ever love.
Her phone chimed, and Grace answered breathlessly.
“Hey, gorgeous. How are you holding up?”
“I’ve been better.”
“I’m really sorry. Any updates? Have you seen her medical reports yet?”
“A few. There are more to be done.” Grace watched more lightning play over the mountains beyond the hospital window. “It looks like heart problems.”
“She’s awfully young for that, isn’t she?”
“They found a malformed valve. They told Jilly it was just a matter of time.”
“So they caught it early. That’s something.” Noah took a deep breath. “Tell me how you are doing.”
“I’m … managing. But Jilly’s not exactly in her best mood right now. She lives to work but her doctor says all that has to change. And seriously, Noah, I don’t know if she can.”
“Everyone can change. All it takes is motivation and commitment.”
“You really believe that?” If so, where did that leave them? Nothing had changed Noah. His job was still a jealous lover, and any day he could walk out of his apartment and not come back.
“I do believe people can change. Grace, about my transfer … I’m working it out. In fact—”
Grace heard muffled voices and then the angry cry of a siren. “Noah, are you okay? Is anything wrong?”
“Everything’s fine, honey. I’m just finishing up some loose ends.”
“Truly? You … wouldn’t lie to me? Never lie,” Grace whispered fiercely. “I can handle anything but that.”
“No, all the heavy lifting is done. We’re just waiting for the folks from Homeland to arrive so we can sign off.” His voice was calm and reassuring. “I wish I had more time to talk.” There was no hint of nerves or impatience.
But Grace wasn’t reassured. “Be careful. And if you manage to change your schedule, I guarantee you some amazing Chinese dumplings and a cable car with a view of the bay.” Grace refused to give way to desperation. They needed to meet halfway as equals—or not at all. If he was locked to his job, what kind of future did they have anyway?
“Working on it, honey. Give me another week. Then let’s book that hotel on the hill with a view of the Golden Gate. I want to order room service and wake up every morning with your head on my pillow. I promise I’ll make it happen this time.”
This was the third time they’d tried, but Grace didn’t bring that up. Third time was the charm, right? “Clear the date and I’ll arrange everything, just as long as Jilly is doing okay,” she finished.
“She’s damned tough. Your only problem will be keeping her out of the kitchen long enough to get a diagnosis.”
Both of them knew it was no joke. Cooking was the one dream that had kept Jilly afloat during a troubled girlhood and a lonely adulthood.
“We’ll think of something. Maybe Caro, Olivia and I should stage a kitchen intervention,” Grace mused.
“Hey—that’s not a bad idea. Is Olivia finally back from Europe?”
“She got back two days ago.”
“Jilly’s luckier than she knows. Not many people have friends like you three. And I vote for the intervention,” he said gravely. “Life’s too short.” His voice turned hard. “I know how short, honey. So pin her down and make her do the right thing. Meanwhile, we’ll work this out with my job. Just give me a little more time—”
Sirens split the quiet air and Grace heard the swell of urgent voices. “Noah, what did you say?”
“Sorry, honey. Gotta go. The Homeland team just arrived.”
“Okay.” Grace’s heart twisted in her chest, but she kept her voice level. “Be safe.”
She heard shouts and more sirens. She bit down all her questions. “I love you, Noah,” she said hoarsely. “Remember that. Call me when you can.”
But it was too late. He had already gone.
Life was too short, Grace thought. She wasn’t going to let Jilly ruin hers. Suddenly an intervention made perfect sense.
CHAPTER FOUR
“YOU LIKE THIS IDEA of Grace’s? You don’t think it’s too drastic?” Caro took a breath and stared up at her friend. “Be honest, Olivia.”
“I’m always honest with you.” Olivia Sullivan paced the room, frowning. Like her two other friends, she was plotting a way to help Jilly redesign her hectic life.
When Grace had first called with a wild intervention plan, the idea had seemed very extreme. But clearly something had to be done.
Caro studied the border of the baby blanket she was knitting. In the crib nearby, her daughter slept, pink-cheeked and contented.
Could her world have been more blessed and filled with magic?
Sure. You could have your husband safe, home beside you, a voice answered coldly.
“Caro, are you listening to me?” Olivia Sullivan sat in a bar of morning sunlight, tan and very elegant in a linen dress and Italian silk scarf. Her hand-knit linen shrug matched her dress perfectly.
“Of course I am.” Caro managed a smile. Clearly this trip had been a good thing. It had been years since Olivia had looked this relaxed. Her months working and studying architecture in Europe had left her glowing. “You always look so elegant, Livie. I swear if you weren’t my oldest friend, I’d have to hate you.”
“Hardly.” Olivia ran a hand over Caro’s unfinished blanket. “You’re the radiant one. When you pick up the baby, you actually glow. Someday … well, I want to look like that, too.”
“You will.” Caro squeezed her friend’s shoulder. “But you should see me at 3:00 a.m. when I have spit-up on my robe. Not a pretty sight.”
“If anyone could carry it off, it’s you. And you and Gage are so great together. At the wedding it was almost as if you could read each other’s thoughts. I loved watching you two.” Olivia frowned. “I know it must be hard without him. I’ll babysit or shop or do laundry. You name it.”
“I may take you up on that. But now I want to hear about Europe. You went everywhere you planned? Florence. Paris. Tuscany, too?”
“I did. It was amazing.” Olivia gave a rueful smile. “Great food, but I gained ten pounds.”
“You could stand to gain ten more,” Caro said, feeling just a little envious. “So what’s in your bag? You keep looking at something.”
Olivia dug in her purse and set a plastic container on the table. It was a model Caro had used herself. “Well, well. You’ve been busy over there in Europe.”
Olivia flushed.
“Is there something I’m missing here?”
“Probably.”
“So is that a used diaphragm?”
Olivia turned the plastic container slowly. “Almost. Very, very close.”
“Anyone I know?”
Olivia shook her head. “He was nice and smart and gorgeous. A painter from Paris.”
“So what happened?”
“That happened.” Olivia glared at the plastic. “Everything was gorgeous—a quiet country inn. Linen sheets and moonlight spilling through the windows. He didn’t push me, Caro. I wanted to sleep with him. I told him to wait a few minutes and then—then I couldn’t get that devil’s tool inserted. I finally gave up. We had a fight and ended up driving home in total silence. Not a word the whole trip. It was beyond horrible.”
Caro frowned. She could see Olivia was still hurting from the encounter. “I’m sorry to hear it, Livie. They can be tricky.”
“I felt like such a fool.” Olivia glared down at her teacup. “I refuse to feel so humiliated ever again.”
Caro had a sudden memory of Olivia at fifteen, putting on panty hose and trying not to be flustered for her first date. Her father, Summer Island’s mayor and most powerful public figure, had been very strict, criticizing every move his daughter made. Over the years Olivia had never been smart enough or thin enough or popular enough for her father. He never hid the fact that he had wanted a son to groom for his real estate investment business.
In his eyes women were meant to stay at home and keep the house clean, anticipating their husband’s whims. Women were not meant to be CEOs or senators or physicists.
Caro almost never cursed, but she thought a bad word loud and clear. She had said quite a few of them when Olivia’s parents had separated and her father blazed off to become a high-profile mover and shaker in Seattle with a different nubile model on his arm every night.
Good riddance, Caro thought. He wouldn’t be around to dig away at his daughter’s confidence anymore. Olivia could finally find her feet. The time in Italy and France appeared to have done her a world of good. She looked calm and collected.
Caro wondered if the appearance was only skin-deep.
“Pour us more tea and I’ll give you some instructions. When I’m done, you’ll be an expert, Livie. But after that, I want to hear all about Europe. Especially your social life,” Caro said dryly. “With a husband who has been gone for months, I need to remember what sex is all about,” she muttered.
Arizona
Two days later
MORE LAB TESTS CAME back.
Negative for cardiac blockage.
Negative for elevated heart enzymes.
“That’s good, right?” Jilly dragged a hand through her hair as she studied the print. “This means my heart is okay?”
Jilly’s specialist picked his words carefully. “It means the major triggers for a future attack are missing. But we need to dig deeper to find out what did happen. And there’s still the question of your valve malformation and your arrhythmia.” He studied Jilly’s patient records, which were getting thicker by the hour. “Your weight is good. A job that keeps you active, I see.” He flipped through more pages and frowned. “A high-stress work environment. We need to remedy that.” He stopped as someone knocked at the door.
Grace peered in. “Sorry. I’ll come back later.”
“No, it’s okay.” Jilly felt sick at what was about to come next.
No more stress.
No more cooking.
Find a new line of work.
She closed her eyes. “Please come in, Grace.”
“You’re family?” The doctor closed his file and studied Grace.
“A friend. A very good friend,” Grace said fiercely. “I’ll help any way I can.”
“Good. Your friend has some big decisions in front of her. Having a support network will be crucial. What about family?”
“No,” Jilly said coldly. “None.”
“I see.” The doctor tapped the thick chart. “It could be worse. You’re young and otherwise healthy, Ms. O’Hara. No tobacco use. No obesity or diabetes. But your last ECG shows an elevated heart rate. I’m not thrilled about your LDL levels, either.”
“What does all that mean?”
“Your heart is working too hard. At this point, surgery is not recommended. Diet, medication and lifestyle changes are the first step.”
Jilly ignored the first two items as irrelevant. “Lifestyle? I’m not giving up my work, Doctor. I can’t,” she said hoarsely. “I could … cut back a little. Maybe go in late sometimes.”
The doctor looked at her and frowned. “I’m not sure you understand what I’m saying. We only get one heart, by nature’s choice. Blowing through it isn’t a sane plan.” He shook his head slowly. “By all rights you’re far too young for us to be having this conversation. But you’ve had a warning shot over the bow and now you need to pay attention. I’d hate to see you back here in three months. Or in three weeks,” he added gravely.
“So you’re saying I can’t work? I have to lie in bed and vegetate?” Jilly’s voice rose with an edge of hysteria. “I’ll go insane.”
“Then stay busy. Take up a hobby. Find something that relaxes you. For the moment your old life needs to be put on hold while we assess our options and how well you respond to those options.” He glanced at the needles sticking out of Grace’s bag. “Why not take up knitting? Some convincing tests show that knitting confers a measurable relaxation response.”
“Not the way I knit,” Jilly rasped. “I’m terrible at it. Can’t I just—well, cut back my work hours?”
The doctor crossed his arms. “All I can tell you is what makes the best sense for the long term.”
Jilly squeezed her eyes shut. “You don’t understand. Cooking is all I have.”
“What I understand is your health. For you that means at least six months stress-free. It means medication, exercise and careful medical follow-up. The rest will be up to you and your body.” He closed the chart and slid it under his arm. “Get some rest. I’ll be back this evening with a detailed health plan. It won’t be the end of the world.”
He nodded at Grace and then walked outside as his beeper began to vibrate.
Jilly closed her eyes and gripped Grace’s hand. In three months her salsa line would be gone, her vendors lost. In four months her investors would bail out. Her business would be destroyed.
“Hey.” Grace gave her a mock shoulder punch, though her eyes shimmered with tears. “It’s not a disaster. You’ve got us. Remember that. We’ll work this out together.”
Jilly tried to smile.
But Grace didn’t understand. It was different for her and the others. They had families and people they could rely on in an emergency. Jilly was alone—and she always would be.
GRACE SPOKE QUIETLY, keeping an eye on the door of Jilly’s hospital room. “She’s going to have to make huge changes, Caro. That means no stress and no cooking for at least six months.”
“She’ll hate it,” Caro said fiercely. “It will feel like a death sentence for Jilly. Hold on. The baby’s crying.”
Grace heard rustling and then the sound of sniffling.
“Okay, one hungry baby emergency under control.” Caro took a deep breath. “So it was definitely her heart?”
“That’s what her doctor said.”
“We have to get her through this transition somehow.” Caro hesitated. “Can you get email?”
“I’m on my cell right now, but I can get email on that.”
“Great. There’s something I want you to see. This will make Jilly rest, whether she likes it or not.”
“The intervention idea?”
“I think I found the perfect place. There’s a lovely resort in Wyoming that specializes in craft retreats. She can enjoy a class in the day and then relax with a spa treatment at night. Lots of nature. Lots of peace. Not a lot of noise or distractions.”
“What’s this place called?”
“Lost Creek. They hold a highly praised knitting retreat there every year.”
“Knitting? You’ll never convince her.” Wearily, Grace rubbed a cramp in her neck. “Jilly hates to knit. And she hates to be manipulated.”
“I know.” Caro hesitated. “And that, my friend, is where you come in… .”
CHAPTER FIVE
Oregon
Three weeks later
“BEHOLD THE NEW ME. Completely calm. Seriously relaxed.”
Jilly scowled at Grace, who was driving. “In fact you see before you the queen of relaxed. But there’s one problem. You can only take so many walks or read so many fluffy magazines before your brain starts to rot. So listen to me, Grace, because this is serious. I love Summer Island. It was nice for the first few days and totally great to see Olivia again. Your grandfather, too.” Jilly tugged back her hair in a vicious twist and dragged a rubber band around the thick strands. “But if I have to endure five more months of this fun, I may shoot someone. Most likely myself,” she muttered.
“Relax, Jilly.”
“Relax how?” Jilly glared up at the gray Oregon sky. “At least in Arizona, it was sunny. These gray skies are depressing.” Jilly sat up straighter, watching a road sign flash past. “You just took the wrong turn. We’re supposed to be going to that new restaurant in Portland.” Jilly’s head whipped around as Grace turned onto the freeway and took the exit for the airport. “What are you doing? I thought we were going to Portland.”
“Not exactly.” Grace pulled into a parking spot and waved at a nearby car. Caro and Olivia jumped out, beaming in excitement.
“What’s going on? Why are Caro and Livie here?”
“Because, my dear, sweet, idiotic best friend, they came to see you off. Caro has your suitcase packed and Livie bought you some new clothes.”
“Clothes? Why clothes?”
“Because you’re going on a trip and you’ll need them.”
“This is a joke, right? You planned some kind of a girls’ night out in Portland. Just don’t tell me it’s at a Chippendales place because my heart isn’t in it. My heart, get it?” Jilly’s face was stony. “I’m trying not to spoil the party here, Grace.”
“No Chippendales. I promise, you’ll like this. It’s a cooking retreat that I found on the web. It’s only offered every three or four years, so you’re in luck.”
Jilly began to smile. “Really? I could handle that. I never have time to improve my skills, and I could finally dig in and catch up.” She hesitated. “But the doctor told me no work—”
“You won’t be working.” Grace grinned. “You’ll take classes. No worry and no cleanup. Low stress all the way.”