by D. B. James
My father has barely spoken twenty words since he hugged me at the airport. My mother has been the one to reply to almost everything.
“Yeah, I’ll be by with my dad around the same time. We’ll go pick up all the tuxes and take care of a few last-minute issues before the rehearsal and dinner.” Shit, I’d forgotten about my dad and Frank having to be together, occupying the same space tomorrow.
“Sounds fine, son,” replies my dad. Finally, he speaks again!
“It’s settled then. We’ll see everyone again in the morning. If you need anything before then, please call. We’ll be busy, but never too busy if you need us, and we’re only fifteen minutes away from the hotel,” I say, and I mean every word. If they need anything, I will help out however I can. If they’ve forgotten something in their five suitcases and need it and I have access to it, I’ll get it.
“Okay, beautiful girl. Thank you.”
As I nod my reply, Rhys pulls up to their hotel, puts the truck in park, and hops out to start unloading their luggage.
“See you in the morning,” I say to them both from my seat in the truck. Is it rude of me to not get out and hug them again? Yes, but I’m still healing from old wounds and now the shock that they may be suffering with monetary issues.
I need a drink…or ten.
After picking up Rhys’ parents and dropping them off, to say we were exhausted is an understatement. Sadly, it’s barely past time for the evening newscast. I blame the news bombs dropped on us by both sets of parents. Rhys’ asked if they could stay at our house while we’re on our honeymoon—oh, no, not for the whole time, mind you, but for at least two weeks. I’m ready to hit the pillow and call it a night, and I’m more than ready to get out of this damn truck.
“We should’ve eloped,” I murmur.
“No, we shouldn’t have. If we wanted to elope, we’d already be married, Av, but it’s not the kind of wedding you envisioned for yourself. To be honest, it’s not the kind I thought I’d have either. Don’t get me wrong, Vegas would be cool to renew our vows one day, but not to say them to each other for the first time. Just breathe baby. You have less than two full days with them all. You’re at the twenty-yard line with the ball and the end zone is in sight.”
Leaning over in the passenger seat, I place my head on his shoulder. “You always know exactly what to say to me.”
“Ditto, babe. You know what to say to me and what not to say. Our moments of silence speak volumes.”
He moves his right hand off the steering wheel and laces our fingers together, gently squeezing mine in reassurance.
“What would you like for dinner? We can grab it and go back home, slip into something more comfortable, and ignore the world until tomorrow morning, deal?”
“Deal.” Lifting our joined hands, I press a kiss to his knuckles, like he often does to mine. “Pizza and ice cream—we deserve to have dessert too.”
“If it’s what my girl wants, then it’s what she shall receive.”
The next morning, I wake to the smell of coffee. Taking a deep breath in, I lie in bed for a few minutes, breathing in the intoxicating smell.
Today is my last full day with the last name Fitzgerald.
Today is my last day as a single unmarried woman.
Today is going to be stressful because of all the people around me, but it’ll be worth every second. Why? Because tomorrow I marry Rhys.
Stumbling out of bed, I grab the silk robe hanging on the back of the bedroom door and proceed into the bathroom. Making quick work of using the facilities, I brush my teeth, run a comb through my hair, and head on into the kitchen.
Tessa is sitting at the island drinking a cup of coffee, and Rhys is at the stove scrambling some…wait, what?
“Are you making eggs?”
“Yep.”
Shrugging, I begin making myself a strong cup of coffee. I’m not awake enough to question why he’s cooking, but Rhys rarely cooks anymore. Since the day he found out how excellent my cooking skills are, he does everything in his power to make it a point that I have to cook. He’s probably touched the stove twice since, maybe three times, tops.
Once half of my cup is gone, I finally cave and ask why. “I need to know, and you know damn well I need to know. You purposely left out an explanation because you knew I wasn’t awake enough to deal, but now I am, so tell me why.”
“Because today is the last official day I can say I’m making breakfast for my fiancée. Tomorrow you’ll be my wife. Add in the fact that we won’t be seeing each other for breakfast tomorrow, and I had to make it today, fiancée.”
“Barf. Get a room, you sap,” Tessa chimes in with her snappy-cynical Judgy McJudgerson commentary while sipping her coffee.
“We have rooms, plenty of them—every room in this house, to be exact. You’re a guest and should feel honored to hear such loving conversations between my fiancé and me,” I tease. She knows I love her, knows I’m just giving her shit. Neither of us has minded her staying here instead of at Brant’s. The only time we had an issue with it was for the whole loud sex thing, but she was nice enough to work the store for me, which allowed us to get the vocal sex out of the way…for the moment anyway.
At least until after the wedding ceremony.
“Thank you, fiancé, for making me breakfast.”
I bet we call each other fiancé all day long.
“You’re welcome, fiancée,” he says as he places a plate of scrambled eggs, lightly buttered oat toast, a key lime Greek yogurt, and a few fresh strawberries in front of me. Talk about an awesome breakfast.
“Are you feeding me this well because you know I’ll be too busy to concentrate on eating at the luncheon?”
“Mostly. Also because of how tired you were yesterday after a few errands. I know for a fact you skipped breakfast to have wild monkey sex with me, and it’d make me feel better if I knew you ate a pleasant breakfast before taking off to be with the ladies.”
Tessa clearing her throat brings us out of our private conversation.
“Yeah, Tes?”
“I’m curious because hey, I’m eating here too—thanks, by the way—you didn’t have the wild monkey sex on this island yesterday, did you? If so, I’d like to eat, you know, anywhere else.”
Wanting to mess with her more, my first instinct is to say, No comment, and make her wonder further, but I’d cave instantly if I did. Rhys claims I have a fantastic poker face, but Tessa has always been able to read me.
“To be safe, let’s say I’d be extra cautious of which machine you use down in the gym.”
As I’m stuffing a forkful of eggs into my mouth and Tessa’s jaw is still open and catching random bugs, Rhys thinks this is a perfect time to let her in on another secret.
“We’ve had sex at least once on every surface in this house. This island here—the one you’re eating your breakfast on—it’s our favorite.”
With those parting words, he leaves us to finish up the cooking. It doesn’t go unnoticed when Tessa gets up from her seat and continues to finish eating her breakfast while standing.
“Do you have enough vacation time left to take a few more days off? I’m not certain if we’re doing this yet, but we may ask you to go to Cancun with us, as your wedding gift from us, for standing by our sides.” I pause for a second while her mouth hits the ground then quickly, before she can react, add, “You still always carry your passport with you, correct?”
Rhys and I may disagree on my trying to force Brant and Tessa together, but he does want to eventually see them cave in to their feelings for one another. Plus, with his parents now staying here for the first couple of weeks, Brant wouldn’t be needed to watch Sadie until we’re off on our real honeymoon in Italy.
“Excuse me, but who are you and what have you done with my friend?” she blurts out like I’ve gone insane and my question is abnormal. It’s not. I’ve given her lavish gifts in the past—nothing as expensive as a trip to Cancun, but still. She should know me well enough by now to know I’m not jok
ing.
“I was trying to wait until tonight to tell you, but I couldn’t wait a second longer. We’re taking both you and Brant to Cancun with us. It’s why we booked our first week there and then leave to go to Italy. We knew we wanted to enjoy some vacation time with the two people who mean the most to us.”
Rhys has taught me well, how to spin little truths hidden in lies. What I told her is mostly true; some of it isn’t. We didn’t plan on taking them along at all. As far as Rhys is concerned, we’re still not—he changed the subject when I brought it up. That said, things have changed now with his parents staying here and Sadie not needing Brant to watch her until after they leave. He’s his own boss and can take the time off work last minute, so I’m not worried about springing it on him and having him say no. Tessa on the other hand? She needed to know now. She has a store to run the same as I do, and needs to let her staff know if she’s not returning for a few extra days.
She hasn’t uttered another word. She continues to stand where she was, her toast halfway up to her readily open mouth, staring at me like I’ve grown another head. Instead of doing nothing or adding more words, I continue eating the breakfast Rhys lovingly prepared for me. I’m scraping the bottom of my yogurt when she finally speaks.
“Okay…yeah. Okay, um yeah, it’s totally doable. My management staff can handle it—and if they can’t, they can start applying for work elsewhere because this hot mama is going to Can-fuckin’-cun!”
Now if only I could get my own fiancé on board with this insanity.
One down, one to go—for me at least.
Rhys will have the pleasure of convincing Brant.
Note to self, spending two hours with only Tessa as a buffer between myself and my mother isn’t a good idea. Next time, I need to be smart and insist on having wine involved—copious amounts of wine. To try to make up for my rudeness last night, we wasted away the first couple of hours by taking her to one of my favorite places, a local butterfly garden. I wanted the setting to at least be calming and serene, but my insides are a different story—they feel like a litter of kittens is playing in the kitty bowl in my stomach. And they’ve set it all aquiver.
It also happens to be the venue for our ceremony, and preparations are underway on the other side of the garden.
Maybe it wasn’t a great idea, but I wanted to try to further repair our broken relationship. Logically, I should be speaking to my father first, asking him personally to walk me down the aisle, but he’s with Rhys and the guys. Extending an olive branch to Mama is the easiest solution for the moment, and I’m hoping to seize a few minutes alone with my father later this evening.
Yes, I know a couple of hours isn’t going to do the trick, but time isn’t on our side and it’s all we have today before the luncheon with my other bridesmaids begins. Tessa staying with me worked in my favor again—at least that’s what I thought when I planned it. I figured having her here as a buffer would make things easier on me.
So, you’d think her presence here would make it easier for me to be myself, be a bit more at ease, open, vulnerable, but nope. I’m as closed off as a turtle in his shell, hiding away from the world. Maybe if I keep hiding, all the adult conversations I need to have will go away? It may sound childish, but I’d much rather sweep it all under the nearest rug and move forward with my life.
At least that’s what the old Averill would’ve done, the person I was while I was running from everything, the person I was before Rhys caught me and stole my running shoes.
Why is it this damn hard?
It’s not like it was my mother who disapproved of my relationship with Alix. No, the blame for what happened to our family lies solely on my father’s shoulders. Oh, who am I kidding? Some of it lies on mine as well. They’ve been heavy with the weight since the night I fled my parents’ home.
Tessa is up ahead a ways on the path, and now is the perfect time to bring up the past. Rip off the Band-Aid, Averill.
“Mama?”
“Yes, beautiful girl?”
“Why didn’t you or Daddy ever try to make contact with me before this past summer when I contacted you?” It’s what has been holding me back from truly investing my heart in this reconciliation. I’ve never had the nerve to ask the question before; maybe I wasn’t quite ready to hear the answer.
“What are you talking about? We did try to contact you, several times actually.”
Her words cause my heart to skip an actual beat, and I can feel everything inside me just…stop. My breathing, my heart—I swear my blood seems to stop flowing. It’s not possible, I know, but it feels like my insides have ceased to function. The shock must show across my face because the next thing I know, my shoulders are being gently shaken and Tessa is in my face.
“Averill, are you okay?” Holy shit, judging by the look on her face whatever happened must have been scary as hell. “If you don’t say anything, I’m going to call Rhys.”
Unable to speak, I scrunch my eyebrows together and give her a funny expression. What the hell is she talking about? Why would she call Rhys? It’s not like anything happened. Maybe I quit breathing for a second, but that’s all…right?
“Stop looking at me strange and answer me—with actual words.”
“You’re overreacting and acting ridiculous, I’m fine.” At least I think I’m fine…
“Beautiful girl, you stopped breathing and nearly fainted. I’d say you’re far from fine.” This comes from beyond Tessa’s left shoulder, and I can only assume it’s spoken by my mother since I can’t actually see her at the moment. That’s her voice, right?
Oh.
Okay then.
Maybe they have a valid reason to be acting ridiculous. It felt like I stopped breathing, but I didn’t think I actually did.
“I’m okay, I swear. It was shock, that’s all.” Gently, I push Tessa back away from my face. I need some breathing room. She’s crowding me, and I loathe the feeling of being smothered. “Honestly, I’m fine now—splendid even.” Keep lying to yourself. “I just didn’t expect to hear those words. I always thought you wrote me off the moment I ran away to be with Alix.”
To be honest, if I were in my parents’ shoes, I would’ve written my child off—not for life, per se, but for a couple of years at least. All right, let’s get real—I wouldn’t have, and we all know it. I would’ve caved within a week or two, max. It would take someone coldhearted to completely write off one’s own flesh and blood.
“Peer into your heart and you’ll have the true answer, Averill. I could never have let you leave my life completely.” She stops for a moment and takes in a deep breath of her own, like she needs to gather her courage to speak the next words, closing her eyes while voicing them. “I watched you. Every single day, I watched you. At first it was to see with my own eyes if you were okay. I’d leave work and instead of going home, I’d go to the cute café across from the apartment you shared with Alix. Once I got the tiniest glimpse of you, I’d leave. It was enough for the day to know you were okay, but then one day you were gone.
“When I arrived home on that awful evening, your father didn’t know what had come over me. I was inconsolable.” Opening her eyes, she glances up into mine, her emerald depths shining with unshed tears. “I sealed myself away instead of talking anything out with him. I locked myself in a world of despair…stayed desolate for weeks…until I saw a flash of mahogany hair crossing the street while I sat at a traffic light.” She gently squeezes my hand, her grip soft but insistent. “It was you, sweet girl.” She stops as if lost in the memory.
No one speaks a word for what feels like an eternity. When she finally continues, I feel like I’ve aged a year instead of mere minutes. This has been one odd morning.
“I followed you to where you had moved. To my dismay, you were still with Alix, but after a while, he began to fade into the background, showing up less and less. He never seemed to leave the apartment in what I know now were his last days alive.” Sighing, she stops speaking, lets go
of my hand, and turns away from me. “I don’t know about you ladies, but I’ve had enough of this somber mood for the day. We have a wedding to celebrate. Besides, we all know what happened with the rest.”
“Um, yeah, okay…although I am curious to know what happened after you lost me again, but I guess the rest of your story can wait.” Nervously, I bite my bottom lip before continuing on with the next sentence. I’m extremely nervous, which in itself is completely absurd. A grown woman shouldn’t be scared to ask her mother if asking her father to walk her down the aisle is going to be met with resistance or not. “Do you think it’d be okay to ask Dad to walk me down the aisle? I mean, I get it if he doesn’t want to, and I know Frank will do it without me even having to ask, but since I ran away from home, I’m not certain Dad will want to walk me down to give me away when technically I’m not his to give away anymore. Stop me from talking now, I sound like an idiot.”
Word vomit isn’t attractive coming from anyone, let alone a grown woman talking to her own mother.
Tessa swiftly wraps me up in her embrace. “Hush it, you moron.”
Leave it to her to call me on my own stupidity, but to be fair, I did ask for someone to shut me up.
“Averill?” Mama questions from behind my right shoulder, where she softly places a loving hand.
Slighting turning my head, I glance back at her to see her tears are falling steadily now, no longer just threatening to fall. They’re streaming down both of her cheeks unchecked.
“Yeah, Mama?”
“Ask him. He’ll be proud to walk you and give your hand to Rhys.”
Pushing out of Tessa’s arms, I sprint the few steps into my mother’s open arms and whisper a promise of my own into her ear. “Thank you for looking for me, for loving me and not giving up on me. I promise to make it up to you.”
With tears drying and hearts singing, we leave the gardens to meet up with the other ladies and have brunch. As we’re leaving, a monarch lands on my shoulder. I can’t stop the grin from spreading across my face when it takes flight.