Always on My Mind Read Free Page B

to be a single mother or give up her child for adoption?
    Likely any advice Raina gave the bride would only turn out to haunt the poor girl. Besides, sweet Gina seemed to have done everything right, her future nothing but sunny.
    As far as Raina peered ahead, she saw only darkness.
    She tried a reassuring smile but clearly managed to scare the bride because Gina’s eyes filled.
    Then   —“Shh, honey.”
    Raina turned to see the bride’s mother slipping through the doors. Tall, elegant, blonde, and not a hint of the Asian descent evident in her daughter, she appeared to be in her early fifties and still wore her wedding ring, despite her recent widowhood.
    “Mom   —sorry. I’m just having a second of . . . Well, how do I know this is the right decision?” Gina turned to her, and Raina stepped back, watching the moment she’d always longed for herself.
    A mother’s advice.
    Michele took her daughter’s hands. “We don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but you can’t live your life fearing the what-ifs. Kalen is a wonderful man, and he becomes the right decision the minute you say, ‘I do.’ The bigger question is, are you ready to make that decision?”
    No. Raina wanted to scream it out for Gina   —or maybe herself. With only six weeks left . . .
    Her hand slid up to press against the baby’s foot, lodged just below her ribs.
    “Yes.” The shadows cleared from Gina’s expression. She peeked through the doors, a soft smile lifting. “Yes.”
    Her mother held out her arm. “How about if I walk you to meet your groom? Your father would have preferred to do it, but I know he’s watching.”
    Now a tear ran off Raina’s chin. She forced a smile and held open the doors as Gina and her mother headed down the aisle.
    Gina met her groom, and Raina slid off her shoes, watchingthem exchange vows. As the ceremony progressed, she picked them up and headed to the kitchen.
    The holiday dinner aroma could knock her over   —roasted beef au jus, garlic mashed potatoes, freshly baked wheat dinner rolls. In her last trimester her appetite had returned with the ferocity of a wildebeest.
    Grace managed the kitchen   —and her small staff   —with the skills of a general. Raina watched her and for a moment wished she could be assembling the spring salad rather than manning the front lines.
    But she simply couldn’t move with the same speed as before. Maybe after . . . when . . . what?
    She hadn’t a clue what her life might look like by spring.
    Grace glanced up from where she stood plating baked Brie and crackers   —appetizers for the guests. “Is the ceremony almost over?”
    “Ten minutes or so. How are we doing in here?”
    “Perfect.” Grace glanced at Ty Teague, down for the weekend from Deep Haven, helping out as a server. He looked debonair and festive, wearing a tux and white gloves, his curly dark hair freshly groomed. “We might actually pull this off.”
    “Of course we will,” Raina said. “I wasn’t sure for a moment, though.”
    Grace met her eyes, stricken. “Why? Oh no, did she have cold feet again?”
    “You knew about this?” Raina barely stopped herself from reaching for one of the plump shrimp curled around a champagne glass filled with spicy cocktail sauce. “She nearly didn’t walk down the aisle. Started asking me if I thought she should get married. As if I know.”
    She moved aside for Ty and Nash   —one of Grace’s culinaryschool recruits   —to deliver the appetizers to the parlor, where the reception festivities would begin.
    Grace finished plating the next Brie appetizer, then picked up oven mitts. She opened the oven. “She’s just hurting over her father’s death. It’s hard   —losing him so close to the wedding.”
    “Yeah. Sad. I get it.” Sort of. After all, Raina had lost her father too. But he’d been in jail. And she hadn’t exactly kept in touch.
    “And she’s their only child. They really thought he’d beat the cancer this