Lily and the Wedding Date Mistake

by Seven Steps

  My lungs were tight. My chest heavy. I couldn’t believe it was true. Becks had gone through all of that, and I wasn’t there for him. Even worse, I’d been angry at him for leaving.

  I was an idiot. The biggest idiot in the world.

  “My parents told everyone that Gramps was sick, and I’d gone to help take care of him and that’s what I did. For the next eight years, me and Millie took care of Gramps. We cleaned him, bathed him, talked to him. Did the best we could. But he never woke up. He died this past June.”

  Gramps was dead? It was unbelievable. He was so full of life. So young at heart. But even worse was that Becks watched him go through a windshield. Becks watched him slowly waste away for eight years. I couldn’t imagine how painful that had been for him.

  “And that’s when you came back?” I asked.

  He nodded. “That’s when I came back.”

  My anger dissipated, leaving me embarrassed and guilty.

  I’d been so mad at him for leaving me that I never realized he might’ve been going through something too. He’d been taking care of his dying grandfather for years and all I could do was be miserable and wonder why he wasn’t with me.

  I felt selfish and stared at the floor, unable to bring myself to look at him again.

  “You should know,” Becks said, “that for all those years, there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think about you.” He put his hand on my knee, and my entire leg went white hot. “Lily, you were my best friend. How could I not miss you?”

  I swallowed, trying to squeeze words past my dry throat.

  “Why didn’t you tell me what was happening? I could’ve visited you. I could’ve helped. We could’ve stayed in touch.”

  “I know. I was... I was ashamed. I’d nearly killed my grandfather. I couldn’t face anyone, let alone you. That’s why my parents were so willing to let me leave. They couldn’t stand the sight of me. Of what I did.”

  “Becks, do you think this was your fault?”

  He shook his head and sat back in his seat, looking out the window. “I know it was my fault. If I hadn’t been giving Gramps a hard time, he would’ve kept his eyes on the road. He would still be here today if it wasn’t for me.”

  “You were a little kid.”

  “Who was acting like a little brat.”

  “That doesn’t make this your fault.” I took his hand, squeezing it between mine. He looked down at it, then up at me. “None of this is your fault. None of it.”

  I watched his Adam’s apple bob and his jaw harden, but he didn’t pull away.

  My heart beat at a hummingbird’s pace.

  “Is that why you wanted to help with the carnival?” I asked. “Because it reminded you of Gramps?”

  His eyes returned to our joined hands.

  “I know how hard it’ll be for Kat and her mom. The cost. The worry. The sleepless nights. The care it’ll take to keep her going. I’ve been there, a thousand times over. How could I not want to help?”

  “I’m sure Kat appreciates it,” I said. “And if Gramps were here, he’d appreciate it too.”

  Becks nodded slowly. His grip on my hand tightened a little. He leaned forward, his face inches away from mine.

  “I missed you,” he said.

  My heart beat even faster. His eyes were so beautiful. Bright green, full of life. Pain. Ache. His skin was tanned and unblemished, except for a few short hairs on his cheek and upper lip. His hair had started to dry and curl around his neck. Were the strands as silky as I remembered them to be? My fingers itched to touch them.

  “I missed you too.” My voice was a whisper. Did he hear me? I barely heard me.

  The hot air in the car turned stifling. I needed cool air, but, for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to leave the car again. To leave Becks. Not with him so close, and my heart beating so fast. My lungs expanded, taking in his scent. Soap and musk and... Becks. A pit formed in my gut, turning in slow circles, making my entire body flush.

  Sitting here, holding his hand, and looking into his eyes was torture. I felt like I was standing on the edge of a great precipice, trying to keep my balance. Trying to hold on… to... to what? The past? My sanity? My emotions?

  Becks blinked, then slowly leaned back. Cooler air filled up the space where he once was, sending a chill through my warm body.

  “We should go,” he said. He frowned, cleared his throat, and started the car. His cheeks were reddening, and he looked agitated. “The rain’s starting to let up.”

  Before I could put on my seatbelt, he was already easing away from the curb.

  What just happened between us? It was like he was there, then he wasn’t. But he was here. In flesh and bone. I could still feel the warmth of his hand. The sweetness of his breath. So why did it feel like he was a million miles away again? Gosh, what was I thinking? What was wrong with me?

  I sat back in my chair and put on my seatbelt, staring out the window at the sheets of rain, which hadn’t seemed to let up at all.

  It took us twice as long as usual to get home, but, when we arrived, I didn’t move. I wasn’t ready to get out of the car just yet.

  It felt like there was so much unsaid still between us. So much I wanted to say to him. So much I felt he was holding back from me. But I didn’t know what to say. How to express how I felt.

  “Night, Lil.”

  His dismissal made me blink.

  I wanted to say something, anything to him that would ease the ache in my chest. That would, somehow, ease the ache in him. But I didn’t know what to say.

  And so, I grabbed my bags and opened the door, letting in the rain.

  “Night, Becks.”

  And then I stepped out and jogged up the driveway.

  Before I’d made it to the door, Becks was already gone.

  And I had no idea what was going on inside his head.

  16

  Becks picked me and Calla up early Saturday morning.

  Today was the day we’d pick out the caterer for the carnival. I was hoping for easy stuff, like hot dogs, popcorn, and frozen burgers with cheese. It was really all we could afford on the shoe string budget the school had provided us. We’d gotten donations from the different businesses in the area, but I was hoping to use that money sparingly, so that as much as possible could go to Kat.

  “This is going to be so good,” Calla said with a grin.

  The first caterer we planned on visiting was Grace Rogers, Calla’s mom. If you were planning a party or wedding or any other celebration in Bloom, there were only two options: Cardoza Catering Hall on the West Side of town and The Ivy Castle on the East Side.

  The Ivy Castle was actually shaped like a castle. The outside had ivy vines that ran around the windows and doors. Almost like a romance novel come to life.

  We drove up the gravel driveway, flanked on both sides by stately trees. There were even a few plastic deer, adding to the illusion that we were approaching a distant castle. We parked out front and walked up to the door. A tall, slim, dark-skinned woman greeted us with a smile and a wave.

  “Hello, young people,” she called.

  Both Mrs. Rogers and her husband were from Jamaica. I loved their melodious accents. It always reminded me of palm trees and sandy beaches.

  “Welcome to the Ivy Castle,” she said.

  Becks and I shared a look and, in that moment, I knew exactly what he was thinking. The way she’d said, “Welcome to the Ivy Castle” sounded just like Richard Attenborough saying, “Welcome to Jurassic Park.” Jurassic Park was one of Becks’ favorite movies.

  Calla’s smile waned a little.

  “Tone it down, Mom,” she muttered.

  Mrs. Rogers ignored her daughter.

  “Follow me,” she said, gesturing into the catering hall with her trademark flourish. “We have everything prepared.”

  A knot formed in my stomach.

  Mrs. Rogers was acting a little over the top. Almost as if she thought we were hosting a fully financed party.
I’d told Mrs. Rogers our budget, didn’t I? I could’ve sworn I did.

  “You okay?” Becks asked. He walked next to me with his hands in his pockets. Today he wore a sleeveless white T-shirt with black jeans and sneakers, and his hair looked a little shorter than it had been the day before.

  “Yeah. This place just seems so... fancy.”

  He chuckled. “I know, right? I feel like I can’t even afford to breathe in here.”

  “I just... I hope she knows this isn’t a paid thing. We have just enough for burgers and hot dogs.”

  “She must know. Calla must’ve told her what she’s been up to these past weeks. And you spoke to her yesterday, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah, I spoke to her.”

  I wasn’t lying. I did speak to Mrs. Rogers last night on the phone. I told her we were holding a carnival for Kat Levy. She seemed into it. I remember trying to go into details, but then Mrs. Rogers started going on and on about Calla. Was she dating anyone? Did she go to all her classes? Was she having any problems in school?

  By that point, I was ready to get off the phone, so I made an excuse to end the conversation. But I couldn’t remember if I’d told her this was a charity event, not a regular event. But, even if I didn’t tell her, Calla must’ve mentioned it.

  Right?

  Becks nodded. “Everything is fine. Just chill. You got this?”

  He held out his hand for a low high-five and I smacked it, almost instinctively. It made me feel a tiny bit better.

  We walked into Grand Room A and were seated in chairs with burgundy cushions and gold backs. It was definitely the fanciest chair I’d ever sat in.

  Mrs. Rogers gave us a big smile.

  I’d seen that smile on my parents before. It was the smile of a person who was about to go into a sales pitch.

  That’s the moment I realized the truth. I hadn’t told her we were asking—begging—for deep discounts and donations. That we only had a tiny bit to spend on food. That we were one step away from asking parents to start baking cupcakes instead. Sure, I had the donated funds, but that was meant for Kat. I didn’t want to blow it all on a caterer.

  And, by the look of the fancy dishes being served on gold trays, I could tell Mrs. Rogers wasn’t working for free, no matter if this was for a school event her daughter was involved in, or not.

  “So, when I got the call that you were looking for a caterer for this event, I thought, what would a bunch of teenagers at a carnival want to eat? What would I want to eat at a carnival? That’s when it came to me. Simple. Hot dogs, sausages, corn dogs, popcorn, fried dough. We wanted to be classic, but with style.”

  Mrs. Rogers proceeded to bring out the fanciest carnival food I’d ever seen in my life.

  Gourmet cheddar popcorn with chives sprinkled on top.

  Tiny hamburgers with buns made completely of cheese.

  White cotton candy that looked like little rainclouds.

  Nachos buried under a ton of vegan chili and hand whipped sour cream.

  “This is amazing,” Becks said, his mouth full of a tiny burger. A bit of the mustard from the burger dripped on his chin. I grabbed a napkin and dabbed at it.

  “You still eat like an animal, I see.”

  He grinned at me, a smile full of boyish charm and innocence. It reminded me of old Becks, and my heart warmed.

  “Some things never change,” he replied.

  We each took a sample and, I had to admit, the food was delicious. I didn’t taste a single thing I didn’t like. Everything was fresh and appetizing and, of course, stylish.

  But, with each bite, my spirits fell.

  How was I going to tell her I couldn’t pay for any of this?

  “Mom, you really outdid yourself,” Calla said, biting into her second tiny cheeseburger. “This stuff is great.”

  “Thank you, Calla. Only the best for my little girl and her friends.” She leaned forward. “I just want to say how proud I am of you all. Throwing a charity gala for Kat is a beautiful kindness.”

  I picked my next words carefully.

  “We’ve been getting so many donations from other businesses these past few weeks. Things we can auction off for Kat and checks. For a carnival like this, with no budget, we really rely on those sorts of gifts to make this work.”

  Mrs. Rogers blinked. “No budget as in, unlimited budget or no budget as in… no budget.”

  I took a deep breath. “The school only provided us with five hundred dollars to run the carnival. We’re trying to save any cash donations we get for Kat and her mom.” I chuckled nervously. “It’s a carnival of giving, in a way. Everyone is donating something.”

  I saw the calculations running through Mrs. Roger’s mind, and I felt terrible for putting her in such a position in front of everyone. This was my fault, and I didn’t know how to make things clear without hurting the woman’s feelings. So, I chose the only way that would work. The direct way.

  It made my chest hurt. I was more of a beat around the bush sort of girl.

  “The food’s amazing, Mrs. Rogers. But I also know that you run a business, and we can’t afford much. If you would like to donate something toward the food, we would appreciate it. But we won’t be able to pay for much.”

  Mrs. Rogers sat back, her lips pressed in a stiff line.

  “Well, that does change things,” she said softly.

  I felt terrible for not telling her about our shoe string budget before she made all this amazing food.

  “Anything you can give would be great,” I said quickly. “And, if you can’t give anything, then maybe you can volunteer your time to be a chaperone.”

  Mrs. Rogers put up her hand. “No. No. Granted, I won’t be able to do anything elaborate like this, but I can donate some small dishes and give you some coupons to auction off.”

  I let out a relieved breath.

  “Thank you so much. I’m sorry I didn’t give you all the information over the phone.”

  “No. It’s quite all right.” She put her hands on her legs and pushed herself into a standing position, indicating that our taste testing was over. She was clearly trying to hide her irritation behind a smile.

  “I know it’ll be tough on Kat and her mom, and I want to help. I’ll send the coupons along to the school and we’ll coordinate what I can do for the appetizers closer to the day.”

  I stood too. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Rogers. We appreciate it, and so does Kat.”

  “You’re welcome. Let me show you out.”

  I could tell that Mrs. Rogers was aggravated about losing a potentially big sale, but the fact she still contributed made me feel like this wasn’t a waste of a morning. We’d gotten some great food and a nice donation. That, in my book, was a win.

  Calla leaned close to me, whispering in my ear.

  “She’s not happy,” she said.

  “She does look a little aggravated.”

  “No, I know my mom. She’s furious. We should let her cater. The food will be amazing, and she really wants to do it.”

  “Calla, you know we can’t afford her.”

  “Sure we can. We have plenty of money from all the other donations.”

  “That money’s for Kat.”

  “That money’s for running the carnival. How are we going to run a carnival with no food?”

  “There’s going to be food. Your mom promised to make some appetizers, and we can make up the rest with—”

  “With what? Frozen hamburgers? No one wants to eat that.”

  “Calla, we don’t have any money.”

  “Yes, we do. You’re just hoarding it all.” She shook her head. “You should have told her this was going to be unpaid.”

  “I tried, but she kept talking and she threw me off.”

  “You should have tried harder.”

  “Well, why didn’t you tell her?”

  “Because she and my dad work twenty-four-seven. I didn’t see her.”

  “Look, I’m sorry, Calla, but we did what we had to do. And i
t worked out. Your mom’s going to help us.”

  “But that’s not the point. We should use the money we have to pay her to cater the entire event. How can we have a successful carnival with bad food?”

  “Calla, we don’t have the money!”

  “Yeah. I heard you.” She stopped walking and shook her head. “I’m going to hang out here for a while. You go on without me.”

  So, she was mad at me now? I didn’t do anything wrong. I was trying to do my best for Kat. Why couldn’t Calla see that?

  “Seriously?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Seriously. See you around.”

  And then, she turned and walked away, leaving me and Becks to look at each other in confusion.

  “What was that about?” he asked.

  I sighed. “I don’t know.”

  Calla and I were best friends, but sometimes, she went to these places in her head that I didn’t understand. Especially when it came to her mom.

  “Let’s just go.”

  “And leave her?”

  “Her mom will bring her home. I just want to get out of here.”

  I whipped around and marched to the car, my thoughts a swirl of anger and confusion. Why had Calla just blown up like that? She knew what we were using the money for. She’d helped us get the donations! Why was she acting like this?

  I strapped myself into my seat as Becks climbed into the driver’s seat.

  Then, we sped away.

  I wasn’t in the mood to do anything but sulk over my and Calla’s fight, but there wasn’t any time for that today. We had several other caterers to meet with, even though I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone right now.

  But I powered through it.

  After the disaster with Calla’s mom, I decided to change up my tactic.

  At the outset, I told the caterers we had very little in terms of a food budget and that we were relying on their generosity.