Call It Destiny

A large man, capable of great charm or great wrath, Paul Strand had enjoyed his years as a hotelier. Still a handsome man, he was regally bald, and there was a certain heaviness around the jawline. But he was in excellent shape physically, playing golf several times a week. He had passed along to his daughter the intelligent hazel eyes and the energetic decisive temperament. It was very pleasant these days for Heather to bask in the warmth of his approval. There had been too many years when she’d been unable to enjoy that hearty pleasure.
    Her mother, Ruth, had been the source of Heather’s bronzed hair. On Ruth it was grayed in a most attractive fashion, however, and she wore it in a short, charmingly windswept style. Both of Heather’s sisters had inherited their mother’s vivid blue eyes and her delicate bone structure. Liz and Ann, married and living nearby, were younger carbon copies of their petite mother. Heather was taller, firmer and not as pretty as Liz and Ann. The eldest daughter had inherited, in short, a great deal from her father.
    „We were safely tucked away eating dinner and discussing the, uh, business of our marriage when last night’s storm hit,“ Jake assured Paul. „Would you pass the jam, please, Ruth?“
    „Of course, dear.“ Ruth handed him the tiny silver jam pot with a fond glance. „Now that everything’s settled I can’t wait to start planning the actual ceremony. I was thinking of having the reception here in the gardens. What do you think, Heather?“
    Heather only half heard her mother’s question. She had just flipped back the next to last page of the contract and found Jake’s one „small“ change. Heavily lined out was the paragraph regarding the physical side of the proposed marriage.
    „Heather? Did you hear me, dear? I was thinking of having the reception right here. Your father and I have always loved this terrace. It would be far enough away from the main lodge so that the hotel guests wouldn’t be affected. We could set up a bar along the brick wall and… Heather?“
    „Yes, mother?“ Heather’s head came up finally, but though she obediently responded to her parent, her narrowed gaze was focused tightly on Jake.
    „I was talking about the wedding plans. Really, dear, you shouldn’t get involved with the business of running Hacienda Strand until after your marriage. You know your father and Jake have tried to keep you away from the office until everything is settled. You’ve been working so hard in San Francisco. You need to take the next couple of weeks off and enjoy yourself. Think of all the fun you’ll have planning your wedding.“
    „Fun?“ Heather wrenched her eyes away from Jake who seemed patiently oblivious to the message in the hazel gaze. „Weddings aren’t supposed to be fun, mother. At least not for the bride and groom,“ she said. „Weddings are an ancient way of formalizing a contract between two people. The only important people at a wedding are the guests. They’re the witnesses to the contract. It’s a romantic misconception to think that the bride and groom should enjoy themselves. After all, it’s primarily a business arrangement that’s being concluded, isn’t it?“
    As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Heather could have kicked herself. The chagrined expression on her mother’s soft face was reproach enough. It didn’t take Paul Strand’s uneasy disapproval to make Heather realize she’d made a mistake. She didn’t often make such mistakes these days. But something about the quietly arrogant manner in which Jake had modified the prenuptial agreement had caught her on the raw. She had spoken out of irritation that should have been directed at him, not at her parents.
    It was Jake who gave her the opening she needed to recover.
    „Can’t I even have a glass of champagne and some cake at my own wedding?“ he complained around a bite of flaky croissant. „Are you going to spoil all my fun?“
    Heather turned to stare at him. His expression of wounded disappointment was so reminiscent of a young boy who has just been told he can’t have any cake on his birthday that she couldn’t resist: „One glass of champagne and half a slice of cake,“ Heather conceded with mock reluctance, as if she was doing him a tremendous favor. „Whether or not you’ll get more will depend on how well you behave.“
    „Ouch!“ Paul Strand grinned at the younger man as Ruth broke into what sounded like relieved