The Wedding Plan

by Melissa Shirley

  Lucia stood and walked to the window. She crossed her arms and breathed out a sigh. “When you were a little girl, I used to read to you. Do you remember that?” Nat surprised him with her nod. “You’d sit in my lap and…you were the sweetest little thing. You were the daughter I didn’t have, so smart and funny, so kind. I wanted you to have a good life. Then I had to let your mom go, and I never saw you much after that. But I never forgot that little girl who looked up and asked me if she’d ever find a prince of her own.”

  “So you thought you’d just give me one? Like a gift?” Nat’s voice hung up on the last word, before she cocked her head to the side, almost as if she was considering the idea as a good one.

  Jacob didn’t want to hear anymore. Couldn’t stand to think of the lies Lucia had told, the way she’d maneuvered them into the place she wanted them to be. “I want you to go.”

  “Jacob…” Certainly Nat wasn’t going to defend this? After everything they’d been through?

  He stared at his wife…his wife… “Fine. You stay, Lucia. I’ll go.”

  And he did. Bare-chested, wearing only a pair of pajama pants, sans shoes.

  * * *

  NAT: Sometimes he needs a minute to figure things like this out. But what he wanted was a fight, a good old down and dirty argument. He needed to get it all out so he could think clearly again. And after a few days of only getting a little sleep, I didn’t mind giving it to him.

  Leaving the baby with Lucia was the hardest thing she’d ever done, leaving him at all, actually, but she knew Jacob needed her more right then. She’d called Jesse and John. They hadn’t seen him. She even called the Rusty Hinge—that was where she went when she needed to blow off steam. But he wasn’t there either.

  When it finally came to her where he’d gone, she smiled at the irony of it. He went to the place where he felt most at home, the place where he’d grown up safe and loved. Lucia’s. He wasn’t inside, but she knew he was there somewhere. She walked through the kitchen to the patio. She stepped out under the awning and found him reclined in a chaise with a big glass of what she knew was not iced tea. “Fancy finding you here.”

  “The one woman I trusted more than anything in the world lied to me for an entire year.”

  “Boo hoo.” He whipped his head toward her. “Do you know why I call you rich boy?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Because my grandliar has a lot of money and she gave me some?”

  “Grandliar? Is that supposed to be clever? You know what? For being so smart, you say some dumb things.” She walked to stand by the pool. “In the beginning calling you Dr. Rich Boy was about the money, but then it was about seeing something you had that made you richer than any fortune could buy you. You have Lucia, who loves you. Would move heaven and earth to make you happy. And you take it so for granted. You should be ashamed. And if anybody knows about shame, my love, it’s me. And trust me, you should. Be ashamed. Very. Ashamed.” Good Lord. She sounded like she’d been taking classes at the Ryhan Connor School of Re-reiteration. She reached down to dip her fingers in the crystal blue water. Oh, yeah. She had a plan. A perfect plan. “Come here.”

  “Nat…”

  “Just come here.”

  He set the glass on the table and moved toward her as if every step was taken in wet cement. Boy, he really wasn’t going to like this. As soon as he was close enough, she put both hands on his chest shoved him into the pool. She needed something to wake him up, and this was all she’d been able to think of. He flailed for a minute then stood. “What the hell?”

  “I thought you looked a little hot under the collar.” She smiled at her own pun. “I was trying to cool you off.”

  “Very funny.” But he stayed in the pool.

  “What did she do so wrong?” He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “So she worked behind the scenes. It brought us together. Isn’t that enough for you?” He turned away, and her heart broke, exploded really. He didn’t feel the same way? After all this time, the baby, everything they’d been through together, she’d thought he really loved her. He said it enough. Too much sometimes. No. That wasn’t right. If she was really honest, she never got tired of hearing it. “Well, that’s disappointing.”

  “Nat…”

  “No. It’s okay. I’m going home.” Her mind clouded, probably to protect herself from the pain surging through her. “You should stay here. The contract’s almost over. They can deduct these few days from my pay.” She found a chuckle among all the hurt. “But I bet they don’t.”

  “Nat, please…”

  “No, Jacob. We need to decide what we want, right? You made it clear where you stand, and now I need to figure out what I’m going to do. I can’t do that if you’re there.”

  He climbed out of the pool and chased her through the kitchen, down the hallway and out the front door. He’d probably left a wet trail for Maryanne or some other floor cleaning person to sop up, and on a better day, Nat would have done it herself. But this wasn’t a better day. Not even close.

  “Nat, all my life people have been deciding what’s best for me.”

  She inhaled slowly. “Jacob, I don’t have time to worry about you taking all of this the exact wrong way right now. Lucah is home waiting for me, and he needs me. You’re a big boy. You can handle yourself. It’s about time you do, don’t you think?”

  She walked away because staying meant giving in to whatever he asked and she didn’t want to do that. She wanted Jacob, but it had to be on her terms and it had to be mutual. Right now, tired or not, if she stayed, it wouldn’t be either.

  All the way home she fumed and cursed, cried if she was completely honest, which she did not intend to be. Lucia might have orchestrated the whole thing, but she didn’t force them to fall in love or to create such a perfect little baby or—did she mention fall in love? Now all she had to do was wait for Jacob to figure that out.

  19

  “I can’t believe you pushed me into the pool.” After she left him standing there in the driveway without a stitch of clothing on—when he climbed out of the pool, his pants hadn’t come with him—he’d spent a long time hiding out in the guest house.

  “I’m sorry about that.” She wasn’t really, he could tell by the smile, by the way she squinted as if she was picturing herself doing it again.

  “Are you now?”

  She shifted her mouth from side to side. “No.” She laughed a little and the sound teased his senses. “Have you talked to the production company?”

  They’d had a long meeting the day before, and he’d agreed to one final interview, the summation after he and Nat decided what they were going to do. “Yeah. I guess we’re supposed to meet them tomorrow?”

  He knew damned well when the meeting was, but he wanted to make sure they would be doing it together.

  “Yeah.”

  “Want to go somewhere and talk?”

  The lights were on and people were milling around the room. More than one nodded to or winked at Nat. “I should get home, and let Maryanne leave. She’s had Lucah all night.”

  He nodded. How the hell were they supposed to work everything out if she wouldn’t talk to him? “Nat…”

  “Tomorrow, Jacob. I promise.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek.

  He couldn’t just let her go. Nothing was resolved. “Nat, please. We have to talk.”

  She smiled. “We will.” She walked away, through the crowd that seemed to part for her.

  That was close. She’d almost blown it. While he’d been busy talking to Lucia and Jesse and whoever she’d thought could distract him from watching her, Nat had been using her time for something different, something special. Something that had the potential to destroy her dreams of a life with him or finally give her everything she ever wanted. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

  20

  Why the hell they were meeting in the town square was a fact beyond his ability to reason, but he left his car in Lucia’s driveway and walked down the sidewalk. He need
ed to rehearse what he planned to say, not on camera, but to Nat, and the fresh air would help, he hoped. He would tell her that he was wrong about what he’d said, the way he acted after she dunked him in the pool.

  She’d been right. She’d always been right. He’d never thought she wasn’t good enough, but maybe he’d been looking for the same excuses she was, the reasons they didn’t belong together. Maybe he’d let life get in the way of loving her, building a life with her and their son. Okay. Not maybe. Definitely. And now he had this one chance to make it up to her. He couldn’t blow it.

  She’d been gracious that week he was gone, let Lucia bring Lucah to see him, but it wasn’t the same as seeing his son in their house. God he wanted to keep her. Instead of going over the words he’d practiced all night long, he prayed like he’d never prayed before.

  A mantra of Please, God rang through his head, louder with each step he took until he was sure he’d said the words aloud. Great. Now he was talking to himself. Kind of.

  He blew out a breath and leaned against the wall between the barbershop and Mrs. Winterbottom’s candle store. Who was he kidding? He didn’t have the words to save this. Not to convince her if it wasn’t what she really wanted. If ever anyone needed a Cyrano, it was him, someone to feed him all the right things to say.

  As he passed the alley between Kelly’s diner and Connor Creations, an arm reached out and fish-hooked him into the space between. “What the fu—”

  Ryhan slapped her hand over his mouth. “Put this on.” She smacked a button down against his chest while she tore the plastic off a jacket—one of his that he clearly remembered dropping off at the drycleaner after Lucah used his shoulder for a face towel.

  “What are you doing?”

  He’d moved too slow apparently and she had the hem of his T-shirt at chest level. “You want the girl or not?”

  “What? Of course.” What he didn’t understand was how letting one of her friends strip him down would help him arrive at that end. He smacked her hands away and took off his own damned shirt.

  “Look, if you want her, you’ll put this on, walk your pretty little self over to that gazebo and wait for her. Trust me. You do not want to look like an unmade bed when you do it.” And from somewhere mysterious—how many pockets did her pants have, anyway—she produced a tube of styling gel and smacked a glob of it onto his head. “It would be helpful to me if you could bend down just a dab.”

  Because he didn’t trust her not to grab a handful of curls and yank, he bent. “Ryhan what are you doing?”

  “Listen, it is taking everything I have not to tell you. And I don’t know if you quite understand what that means to someone like me, but I can assure you, it’s a lot. So if you could just cooperate, I would be oh so grateful.”

  She spit all those words without a single breath between. “Okay.”

  “You need a haircut pal.”

  “Well, I’ve had other things on my mind.” A haircut was the last thing he’d considered anytime in the near recent past.

  She stood back to admire her handiwork then reached out and flipped back the curl that fell over his forehead. He could have told her it was useless to try, but she did. Three more times before giving up. “Oh what I wouldn’t do for a pair of scissors right now. I can tell you that damned curl wouldn’t last one more minute.” She shook her head. “It’s gonna have to do.”

  “Thanks?”

  “Now get out there before I ruin everything.” She took him by the shoulders and turned him toward the street then whipped him back around. For being small, she was strong. “Shit. Wait. I forgot the most important part.” From another pocket she pulled out a blindfold. “Put this on.”

  “Ryhan…”

  “Just do it, okay?”

  “This is the stupidest thing.”

  She chuckled. “Yeah. I’ll find you in an hour. You tell me that then.”

  He slipped the blindfold down. Damn it was dark. He couldn’t see a thing. “Okay, now what?”

  “Now, we walk.”

  He took two steps with her guiding him. “I can’t see anything.”

  She laughed. “That’s the idea, silly. Now hush and walk.” At the curb, she helped him step down, cross the street, and step up again. They had a block to walk before the turn to the gazebo where he and Nat were supposed to finish their story. His stomach churned the whole way, and the dark did nothing to help ease him. When they stepped off the concrete sidewalk to the grass, she stopped him. “Okay. Take it off.”

  “The blindfold?”

  “This isn’t a strip club. Of course, the blindfold.”

  It took a second for his eyes to adjust and another minute for him to believe what he saw laid out in front of him.

  “You’re not the only one who can do a grand romantic gesture,” Ryhan said, then stepped back so Lucia could stand next to him.

  He nodded and licked his lips. “You do all this?”

  “No, sweetheart. I learned my lesson. This was all her. She just asked me to come give you away.” Lucia’s eyes pooled with tears. “It’s harder than I thought.”

  How could he not hug her? “I’m sorry for being such a—”

  “No, love, I’m sorry. I will never interfere again in your life. You’re an adult, and I trust that you’ll make good decisions.” A tear slipped down her cheek, and he brushed it away with his thumb.

  “Well, I hope that isn’t true. There’s no one I want interfering more than you.”

  She breathed out a sigh and chuckled. “Good. That will save me a lot of future apologies.” She pointed to the gazebo. “I think someone is waiting for us to get this show on the road.”

  And there she was. His Nat, dressed in a simple white dress that hung to her feet but was without all the fancy embellishments of the first one she’d worn. Her hair was loose this time, falling over her bare shoulders. He couldn’t move, just stared at her until she winked and crooked her finger.

  Lucia stood beside him smiling. “No contract this time. It’s all up to you two.”

  * * *

  NAT: Sometimes it takes a village. Without these people and this town, Jacob and I wouldn’t have been possible. They were with us from the very beginning, and I hope they’re here for all the rest of our lives. This town and all the people in it, and this man, our baby…that’s my happily ever after.

  JACOB: Mine, too.

  About the Author

  Always on the lookout for her next book boyfriend, Melissa Shirley is an avid writer and reader who has taken to creating the men of her dreams in the contemporary romances she writes. A mother of eight, Melissa is a published author of the Storybook Lake series and lives in a tiny rural town in Illinois.

  * * *

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  Twitter: https://twitter.com/missyshirley2

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