The Runaway Bride. Noelle Marchand
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Sean tracked me down, and ever since I’ve had to live with his constant disapproval day in and day out. That’s when I realized how foolish I’d been, and decided to come home.”
Her mother nodded, then asked, “So where does that leave your feelings toward Sean now?”
Lorelei shook her head. “If I learned anything while I was gone, it’s that I’m done with Sean O’Brien. I’m finished waiting for him to look at me with anything more than a frown on his face. I think I’ve allowed his dislike of me to shape who I’ve become. That’s part of the reason I wanted a new beginning away from here and him.”
“I see.” Her mother took a sip of her tea thoughtfully. “Perhaps what you are searching for is a new perspective, dear, not an entirely new life.”
“Maybe so.” Lorelei sighed.
It wouldn’t hurt to try, and it was much more practical than any step she’d taken so far. She smiled. A new perspective… That sounded perfect. She had no idea what perspective she needed but whatever it ended up being would be better than the one she had.
* * *
Lorelei smiled a greeting at the bank tellers as she breezed through the lobby with her father’s lunch basket in tow. Her steps faltered as she neared the open door of the manager’s office. Gathering her courage, she knocked lightly. Lawson glanced up from the box he was packing. He paused in surprise at the sight of her before giving her a welcoming smile. “Come on in.”
She surveyed him carefully. He didn’t seem to be upset with her, but she hadn’t seen him since the wedding. She decided to tread lightly as she stepped inside. She placed the basket on his desk, then turned in a slow circle to survey the moderately sized room. The room had been stripped almost completely of his personal items. She turned to face him as the weight of guilt settled on her shoulders. “You’re leaving the bank?”
“I resigned a few days after the wedding.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he asked curiously.
She crossed her arms and leaned her hip against the desk. “Well, it’s my fault you’re leaving, isn’t it?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m just ready to move on, that’s all. I’ve been inquiring about a few other jobs. Most of them are out of Peppin.”
“I still feel responsible.”
“Don’t.” He closed the box, then met her gaze seriously. “While we’re at it, let’s get something else straight. You already apologized to me about what happened at the wedding. I’ll admit I was hurt but not as deeply as you might have thought because you were right. I didn’t love you the way I should have. I knew something was wrong, but I’d made a commitment and I didn’t want to be the one to walk away from it. I’m glad you did. It was the right thing for both of us.”
She stared at him. “You mean it?”
He nodded. “I hope we can go back to being friends now and that you know if you ever need anything you can call on me.”
“Thank you, Lawson. Hearing you say that means so much to me. I hated thinking that I might have hurt you. You’ve been such a wonderful friend. I wouldn’t want to lose that.”
“Well, you aren’t. You’re stuck being my friend so you may as well like it,” he teased. Then, looking at her closely, he offered her his handkerchief. “No tears in my office and it’s still my office until I take this box out.”
She smiled and dabbed her watery eyes before handing it back with her thanks. “I’d better bring Papa his lunch. I guess I’ll see you around.”
“I’m sure you will for a little while at least.”
“Are you all right?” her father asked a few moments later as he cleared his desk to make room for the food. She told him about her conversation with Lawson, and he shook his head. “He’s a good man and a good manager. I wonder what sort of work he’ll go into next.”
“That reminds me,” she said as she laid out a plate with her mother’s baked chicken, green-bean casserole and corn. “On my way here I stopped to talk to Mrs. Cummings at the millinery shop across the street.”
He stared at her in confusion. “How did what I say remind you of hats?”
“She was looking for someone to come in a few hours a week to help her, and I told her I’d like to take the job. Isn’t that wonderful, Papa?”
Richard frowned up at her from his dark leather chair. “No, it is not. Why should you want a job, Lorelei? What will my customers think if my own daughter has to work outside the home? I’ll tell you what they’ll think. They’ll think their money isn’t safe here.”
She lifted an eyebrow and closed the basket. “As if they had anywhere else in town to put it.”
He waved his fork. “That is beside the point.”
“Well, I don’t see why they’d care one way or the other,” she reasoned. “Besides, I need something to do besides embroider with Mother.”
Hope sprang within her when her father quieted for a moment. “If it’s work you want, you are always welcome to work here.”
She almost laughed. “Doing what?”
“Why, you could be a teller.”
“Papa, I don’t want to be a teller.”
“I’d much rather you work here.”
She grimaced. “I’d much rather not.”
“It’s a perfectly respectable place. I can watch you,” he rationalized.
“It’s a perfectly boring place and I don’t need to be watched.”
He looked at her in wavering contemplation, and she gave him her best and most pleading look. Finally, he sighed. “I have a feeling this is going to be like the rose garden you tried to start and that bakery idea you tried to get a loan for and the—”
She titled her head. “And the wedding I didn’t go through with?”
He stilled. “Now, I didn’t say that, did I?”
She fiddled with the lace on her dress and tried to keep the tears from blurring her eyes. “Well, why don’t you? Isn’t that what you’re thinking? I can start something but I don’t finish it well, do I?”
“You can do whatever you set your mind to, Lorelei. When you like something well enough, you stick to it. Look at your music lessons. You’ve been playing the piano—very beautifully—for years. I guess you just try out more things than most and there’s nothing wrong with that. If it’s all right with your mother, then I don’t mind.”
“Oh, thank you, Papa.” She smiled and slipped around the desk to give him a quick hug. “I’m certain I’ll like it, and I’ll stick to it no matter what.”
“That’ll show them.” He winked.
She chatted with him for a few more minutes before exiting his office and walking right into a conflict between Mrs. Greene and her father’s secretary. Neither party seemed to realize they were blocking the hallway. The man looked positively flustered. “But, ma’am, you don’t have an appointment and Mr. Wilkins is having lunch. Why don’t I direct you to a teller? I’m sure one of them will be able to help you.”
“I’m sure they will not.” Mrs. Greene’s face seemed to grow redder by the moment. “I insist on seeing Mr. Wilkins right now. I have been entrusted with a letter for him and I aim to see he gets it.”
Lorelei spoke up to try to diffuse the situation. “It’s all right, Alexander. Father is finished with his lunch. I’m sure he’d be willing to see Mrs. Greene.”
The young man stepped aside to