THE WEDDING

  Written by

  Kate William

  Created by

  FRANCINE PASCAL

  Copyright © 2015, Francine Pascal

  Lila examined herself in the mirror. "What's going to happen when Grace goes back to Paris?" she whispered to the image whose face was lined with new tears. Her mother had been such a comfort and source of strength to her over these past weeks. Lila hadn't felt this sure of herself since before the incident with John on Miller's Point.

  Will I feel this good about myself when Grace is gone? Lila wondered. She squinted her eyes, trying to stop the tears.

  Lila knew her mother had built a very successful life for herself in France. "But her life should be with me," Lila affirmed to the mirror.

  A loud burst of laughter outside the door snapped Lila back to reality. There was a sensational party going on in her house and she was the hostess. She grabbed a tissue and patted the drops clinging to her eyelashes, then wiped away a smudged line of mascara that formed below one eye.

  She gave one last look at the reflection in the mirror. I just have to make Grace understand that she can't leave me alone again, she silently told the image. I won't let her go.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 1

  "You look absolutely radiant, Lila," Amy Sutton gushed over the roar of conversation around them in the Fowler Crest living room.

  "Yeah," Lila Fowler agreed, tossing her silky brown hair over her shoulder so that it came to rest on her back. "It's great to be back to my old self again." Lila had paid particular attention when she had gotten dressed that morning. The evidence was still strewn about her bedroom upstairs. She'd tried on at least seven different outfits until she'd found the perfect one, a white silk blouse with pearl buttons and black jodhpur pants that Grace, her mother, had brought her from Paris.

  "And your mom is so fabulous," Amy continued, taking a bite of the herb puff that had been sitting on her plate. "I would have known immediately she lived in France, even if you hadn't told me."

  Annie Whitman approached Lila and Amy from the other side of the room. "Hi, you guys," Annie said, raising a tall glass of iced lemonade in greeting.

  "Hi, Annie," Lila answered. "I'm so glad you came today." Actually, Lila was glad all of the Sweet Valley High girls she'd invited had been able to make it. There was no doubt in her mind that this was going to be the most sophisticated party they'd ever been to.

  "Your mother seems great," Annie told Lila. "And she's gorgeous, too." That was a real compliment coming from Annie, whose mother, Mona Whitman, had once been a super-model.

  Lila smiled at her friends' praise. Then her eyes fell on Grace, who was standing in the foyer, talking to Robin Wilson. "She's more wonderful than I'd ever dreamed," Lila said. After she had uttered the words, Lila realized how uncharacteristic they sounded.

  "I can't imagine dreaming of more than this," Amy said, gesturing around the room, her gaze coming to rest on an original Picasso hanging on the wall. "I mean, you live in a mansion with tennis courts and a swimming pool."

  "Mmm hmm," Lila said absently, her eyes still on Grace. Lila's life hadn't always been as magnificent as it appeared from the outside. For the past fourteen years, Lila had endured feelings of emptiness and envy, especially whenever her friends had talked about their mothers. That longing had disappeared completely over the past couple of weeks, thanks to her father's asking Grace to come back to Sweet Valley. Lila hadn't been able to talk with her father about her troubles, but he had sensed that something was wrong. Not that it was such a tough call.

  For nearly a month, Lila had practically locked herself in her room, refusing to fix her hair or answer the telephone. She'd barely gotten any sleep, and her golden California tan had faded as the dark cirles under her eyes had grown.

  Just a few heart-to-hearts—and shopping trips—with Grace had changed all that. And today she had invited all of her friends to Fowler Crest for a luncheon to meet her incredible mother. The party had started only half an hour before, and already the compliments were pouring in Lila's direction as one guest after another raved about Grace.

  Lila watched her mother glide from the foyer to the living room and select a spot next to Jessica Wakefield on the large brown leather couch. Grace's red silk sleeveless dress fell perfectly on her slender frame and drew out the softness of her pale complexion. A double strand of pearls completed the look. Somehow Grace made it look like a much more elaborate outfit than it actually was.

  Amy interrupted Lila's thoughts. "Anyone up for a game of pool?" she asked.

  "Sure," Annie said enthusiastically. She looked at Lila. "Are you coming?"

  "No. I think I'll mingle for a little while," she said, just barely moving to the beat of the music coming through the stereo speakers. Lila couldn't understand any of the lyrics. They were French rock-and-roll tapes that Grace had given to her. She had decided to play them as background music to give the party a European flavor.

  Lila looked over at Grace and Jessica again. Jessica was nodding at what Grace said, but Lila could tell her thoughts were elsewhere.

  Poor Jessica. Her sad blue eyes announced that she was going through a difficult time. Lila's best friend was still the same beautiful blonde with perfect skin that she'd always been, but almost everything else about her had changed recently. Her boyfriend had died fairly recently, in a car accident, and Jessica's identical twin, Elizabeth, had been driving.

  Normally, Jessica enjoyed herself more than anyone else at parties—dancing, laughing, and gossiping. But today you could have brought out the Rolling Stones live and Jessica probably wouldn't have moved from that spot on the couch where she'd been glued since she'd arrived. Under normal circumstances, Lila would have welcomed the opportunity of not being one-upped by her best friend, but today she knew Jessica was suffering from more than just a bad mood: she was on the verge of a serious depression. Jessica barely looked at Grace as she talked gently to her, and Lila had noticed that she hadn't talked to anyone else in the room.

  Lila understood what Jessica was going through. For nearly two months, Lila hadn't had anyone to talk to about her troubles. Of course, her friends would have listened, but none of them understood how serious her problems were. Lila had definitely needed an older ear.

  In between business trips, her father had tried to coax Lila out of her room, but Lila's relationship with her father had always been distant. As much as she knew he loved her, it was impossible for Lila to express her most private feelings to him.

  The one person she had tried to open up to was Nathan Pritchard, her counselor at Project Youth. Lila's stomach dropped as she recalled the horrible mess that situation had turned into. Ever since John Pfeiffer had nearly raped her, Lila had felt uncomfortable in social situations. When the Big Mesa students stormed the Sweet Valley High gymnasium the night of the Jungle Prom, Nathan rushed her into a deserted classroom. Lila had thought he was trying to attack her, but she was wrong and ended up falsely accusing him. That had pushed her even deeper into her depression. That was when her father had called Grace.

  Having her mother back in her life had definitely been the key to Lila's improved mood and sense of well-being.

  A voice shook Lila out of her thoughts. "Earth to Lila." It was Jean West, her face lit with excitement. "Snap out of it, or you'll miss your own great party."

  "Oh . . . uh . . . sorry," Lila said.

  "What were you thinking about, anyway?"

  Lila wasn't about to reveal her past insecurities to Jean. Thanks to Grace, she was in control again and there was no reason to rehash history. "I was thinking about poor Jess," Lila said in a low voice.

  Jean's smile quickly turned to a frown. "I know. You'd think she'd be feeling better by now. After all, Sam's been gone a while," Jean added.

  "It's not over for Jess, though. Sam's still dead and it's Elizabeth's fault."

  "But they didn't convict Liz for anything. The judge said the other driver was to blame for Liz's swerving off the road."

  "Yeah," Lila said skeptically. "The other driver wasn't to blame for Elizabeth's drinking and driving."

  Clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was heading, Jean quickly changed the subject. "You really outdid yourself with this fabulous spread," she said, motioning toward the table in the next room, lined from end to end with an array of fresh fruits and vegetables, pasta salads, quiches, and delicious French pastries.

  "I wish everyone would eat more." Lila patted her flat stomach. "I don't want to be eating leftovers for the next week."

  "Well, anyway, your mom is terrific!" Jean proclaimed.

  "I know. It's like she never left Sweet Valley."

  "Speaking of which—when does she have to go back to Paris?"

  Lila looked stonily at her friend. She resented the reminder that her mother wouldn't be staying with her at Fowler Crest forever. Her anger quickly turned to sadness, and unwanted tears suddenly filled the corners of her eyes. "Excuse me," Lila said. "There's something I forgot to do." She walked away quickly, and once out of Jean's sight she ra
ced into the nearby powder room, locking the door behind her.

  Lila examined herself in the mirror that extended across the wall over the marble vanity sink. Her tears had dried, but for the first time since Grace had arrived, she felt unsure about how long her improved emotional state would last. Again she fought back the tears. She couldn't return to the party with puffy eyes.

  "What's going to happen when Grace goes back to Paris?" she whispered to the image whose face was lined with new tears. Her mother had been such a comfort and source of strength to her over these past weeks. Lila hadn't felt this sure of herself since before the incident with John on Miller's Point. John had destroyed Lila's self-image, and she didn't know how she would ever have gotten it back without Grace.

  Will I feel this good about myself when Grace is gone? Lila wondered. She knew there was a chance she'd fall apart again when Grace got on the plane to Paris. And once again, there would be no one to help her put it all back together.

  Lila squinted her eyes, trying to stop the tears. The image in front of her changed, a blurred version of herself. How would she cope if anything else horrible happened to her? With no one to confide in, she wasn't absolutely sure she could.

  Of course, from now on Grace would always be her mother, there for her whenever she needed her. But "there" was over seven thousand miles away. And Lila wouldn't settle for letters and phone calls and the occasional trip to Paris.

  Lila could tell that Grace enjoyed being with her. She had told Lila many times how much rediscovering her daughter had meant to her. "So how could she just desert me—again?" Lila said out loud to her reflection.

  A loud burst of laughter outside the door snapped Lila back to reality. For a minute she was afraid they were laughing because they'd heard her talking to herself in the bathroom. She assured herself they couldn't have, and took a deep breath. There was a sensational party going on in her house and she was the hostess. Her guests were probably wondering where she'd gone by now. She grabbed a tissue and patted the drops clinging to her eyelashes, then wiped away a smudged line of mascara that had formed below one eye.

  She gave one last look at the reflection in the mirror. I just have to make Grace understand that she can't leave me alone again, she silently told the image. I won't let her go.

  "I think I'll get myself a drink." Grace uncrossed her legs and smiled at Jessica. "Can I get you anything?"

  "No, thanks," Jessica said. "I'm fine." As Grace walked away, Jessica realized she'd just lied to the luncheon's guest of honor. Not that lying's anything new to me, she thought to herself. It's getting to be a habit. By not telling the truth about her role in the car accident that killed Sam, she might as well have been lying.

  And she didn't feel fine—not even close. She felt like crawling into bed and hiding. Or crying. Luckily, she had found a spot on the couch where nobody noticed her. Everyone else was caught up in the thrill of meeting the long-lost ex–Mrs. Fowler.

  Why can't I make Sam return the way Mr. Fowler did with Grace? Jessica asked herself silently.

  She closed her eyes and tried to picture Sam—his sparkling gray eyes, his curly golden hair. Already she found it hard to recall his image.

  When she opened her eyes April Dawson's friendly face was looking down at her. "Jess, are you all right?"

  Jessica forced down the lump that was climbing in her throat. "Oh, hi, April," she said, trying to regain her composure. "Yes, I'm fine."

  Aren't I always? Jessica asked silently.

  "I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to tell you how sorry I was about Sam's—uh—about Sam." April stumbled over her words.

  Go ahead. Say it, Jessica said to herself. Sam's death. By now Jessica had heard all of the euphemisms: passing, parting, departure. Calling it something else wouldn't hide the truth. Sam was gone and he was never coming back.

  "I know how much you must miss him," April continued.

  Jessica wondered how April could possibly know how much she missed Sam. April and Sam had met on the dirt bike circuit, and it was April who had introduced Jessica to her boyfriend. But there was a big difference between being a fellow biker and knowing Sam the way Jessica did.

  "Someone who meant a lot to me died, too."

  "Who?" Jessica asked, sure that April's loss couldn't compare to hers.

  "My cousin. We grew up together—practically like sisters. She was one of my best friends. But one day I got home from school, and Mom told me there had been a car accident."

  Just like with Sam, Jessica thought. Except no one told me; I saw for myself. She blinked back the tears that blurred her vision. She wished April would just leave her alone, but April just kept talking, determined to make her point.

  "At first I wanted to die. I missed her so much and felt so cheated that she'd been taken away from me . . . then I finally realized I'd better start doing something or I'd never stop feeling miserable."

  In spite of herself, Jessica looked up at April, curious about how she'd managed to get over her despair. "What did you do?"

  "I started training again and entered a dirt bike rally."

  Jessica rolled her eyes. "Thanks, but dirt bike racing isn't really my thing."

  "I didn't mean you should go out and buy a bike. Do something you love." April paused, searching for the right idea. "Like, plan an event or something. After all, you've organized practically everything that's ever happened at school."

  April's words stung like a scorpion's bite. Jessica's last brainchild had been the Jungle Prom. For weeks she and Elizabeth had planned what was expected to be the most outrageous night Sweet Valley High had ever experienced.

  It was outrageous all right, but not the way the sisters had planned. Jessica had wanted the Prom Queen title so badly that she had vowed not to let anyone stand in her way—especially not Elizabeth. The honor had nearly slipped through her fingertips. With the election of Elizabeth's boyfriend, Todd Wilkins, as king, Elizabeth was a shoo-in for queen. Then one of the Big Mesa party crashers gave Jessica some grain alcohol that she slipped into her teetotaling twin's drink. She hadn't wanted to hurt anyone—just make Elizabeth so wild that everyone would think she was unfit to reign as their queen.

  But it didn't work out so neatly. Sam had died as a result of her supposedly benign trick.

  Jessica fought back the tears that threatened to embarrass her in front of April and the rest of her friends at the party. Everyone thought of Jessica Wakefield as always being in total control. She couldn't let them discover the truth that despite the fact that she'd tried hiding it, and denying it, she'd been in absolute misery since the accident.

  Jessica knew Elizabeth was in pain, too, and that she was contributing to that pain. She had openly blamed her sister for Sam's death, only adding to the horrible guilt she knew her sister felt. Jessica had never seen her twin so miserable. Every night Jessica heard the wrenching sobs penetrating the door of the bathroom that connected their bedrooms. It was all she could do to stay in her room. She desperately wanted to comfort Elizabeth—the way she used to.

  Jessica shook the sympathetic thoughts from her mind, refusing to let herself feel sorry for her twin. After all, she'd gotten off easy—a revoked license for driving drunk. Elizabeth had lost her driving privileges. Jessica had lost her one true love.

  No, Elizabeth had definitely not suffered the way Jessica had. And Jessica wasn't about to suffer alone; she needed to show Elizabeth what real suffering felt like. That's why Jessica had to continue seeing Todd. Even though she could never love him.

  And he would never love her, she knew. He was still in love with Elizabeth. He had said as much in the letter that Jessica had intercepted. Todd was probably still waiting for a signal from Elizabeth to let him know she still cared. He had no idea Elizabeth had never seen it.

  Maybe she shouldn't have taken it from the pile of mail in the entryway. It was too late now to worry about what she should or shouldn't have done. There was no going back. Her plan to make Todd her own was already well underway. And even if that didn't work out, she wasn't going to be the one to bring Todd and Elizabeth back together.

  After all, why should Elizabeth have someone when Jessica was completely alone now?

  Jessica couldn't fight the tears any longer. Pushing herself off the couch, she hurried out the door to the Fowlers' terrace and into the gardens until she found a white iron bench where she could cry in peace.