“How often do you get engaged? Only the once. We need to celebrate.” Mrs. DiMartino’s voice was firm.
Ava smiled. “Okay, sure. But we can’t stay too late. I haven’t been home for a week, and I’ve got to be ready to go back to work.”
For the next fifteen minutes, typical DiMartino bedlam ensued. I sat back watching, amused, while Ava told her parents about how I’d proposed—or at least, she told them a sanitized, parent-friendly version, wherein we were having breakfast at the hotel restaurant when I’d popped the question. Although the whole family knew that Ava and I’d been living together for nearly two years, her parents chose not to look too closely at that situation. I think Mrs. DiMartino comforted herself that since we had two bedrooms, there was at least a chance that we weren’t sleeping together.
And then Carl and Angela arrived, and shortly after, Vincent, and we had to go through everything all over again. Angela, being very nearly nine months pregnant, burst into tears, throwing both her husband and her mother-in-law into a panic. Everyone fussed around her for a few minutes, until she waved them away.
“Stop it! I’m fine. These are happy tears. Ava, I’m so glad for you. We’re going to have a blast, planning your wedding.”
Mr. DiMartino was passing tall flutes of bubbling white wine around the room. His wife leaned over to squeeze Ava’s shoulder. “Yes, we are. What are you thinking, Ava? Next summer? Next spring? What colors do you want to use? And we’ll need to figure out the engagement party and the shower, so they don’t interfere with the baby’s christening.” She nodded toward Ange.
“Ma, slow down. We just got engaged today. We’re not sure what we want to do yet. Give us some time, okay?” Ava softened the words with a smile and a hand on her mom’s arm.
“What’s there to decide? This is how you do things. You get the ring, you put the announcement in the paper, you have a party. You pick a date, you find a place to have it. Then we choose a dress, you take your bridesmaids shopping. You register for gifts. We throw a shower. You talk to the priest. We have a wedding, and you get married.”
It took a strong woman to stand up to Francesca DiMartino, but my girl was that woman. She drew up her small body and fastened her mother with a stern look.
“Mom, stop. Give us time. Can’t we just be happy today, and enjoy each other, and then worry about the other stuff later?”
There was a long moment of absolute silence in the living room. Even little Frankie didn’t move. Mr. DiMartino was the first one to speak.
“Frannie, she’s right. Let’s be happy for today. Look, we’ve got all our family around us. We’ll celebrate tonight, because we have something wonderful to look forward to. And we’re getting a new son. Everything else will take care of itself.” He gazed around the room, a broad smile on his face. “Now, who’s ready to help me in the kitchen? The macaroni isn’t going to cook itself.”
“WELCOME BACK, AVA. HOW was your vacation?” Suzanne, my boss, wandered into my small office and dropped into a chair across from my desk. She brushed back a strand of her dark brown hair, cut in a classic long bob so that it fell in a silky curtain around her impeccably made-up face.
“It wasn’t much of a vacation. I was in a wedding on Saturday, and so I spent the whole week at the bride’s house, getting ready for the big day.”
“Ugh.” She wrinkled her small nose. “The entire week? You used your vacation days for that?”
I sighed. “Yeah, she’s a really good friend. She had little parties or get-togethers scheduled every single day leading up to the wedding itself. I couldn’t miss any of them.”
“You’re a much nicer person than me. I’ve been in weddings . . . and I don’t think I would’ve been able to stomach a full week of it.”
“Well, I’m back now. I checked on all the campaigns as much as I could while I was away, and it looks like Tanya did a good job maintaining the postings. I’m going to jump on the new clients’ accounts today, unless you’ve got anything else for me.”
“No, that sounds good. You’re going to have to create most of the accounts for that gym client, by the way. The guy is a social media moron. Oh, and before I forget, didn’t you tell me you had a friend who’s an event planner? There’s a new boutique opening here in town, and they hired us to promote their grand opening. Our usual planner is booked already.”
“Sure. Giff Mackay. He’s amazing . . . he did the wedding I went to this weekend. Hold on, I’ll get you his contact info.” I reached for my cell, but before I could grab it, Suzanne gasped and jumped up.
“Ava! What’s that on your finger?” She clutched my left hand, holding it up and staring at the ring. “Oh my God, it’s gorgeous.”
“Thanks.” My face warmed. I didn’t understand why this embarrassed me, but it did.
“Does it mean what I think it does? Liam finally popped the question?” She let go of my hand and sat back down.
“Finally? What’s that supposed to mean?”
Suzanne shrugged. “I don’t know. You’ve been together since college. You’ve lived together for two years, right? Just seems like it’s long past time you two’d make it legal.”
“I never thought you were that big a fan of marriage.” I’d known Suzanne since my internship here at the ad agency, and as far as I was aware, she’d never had a boyfriend. She dated, but never the same guy for more than a few weeks.
“Not for me, I’m not, but you . . .” She smiled. “Ava, when I first saw you with Liam, I knew how it was. You two belong together. You’re a walking ad for happily ever after.”
That should’ve made me glow, but it almost felt like a put-down. “It doesn’t mean I’m less serious about my job. Yes, I’m getting married, but it won’t change how much I work or make me lose my focus.”
“Whoa.” Suzanne held up her hand. “No one said anything about that. Ava, I’m thrilled for you. You know how Margaret runs this business. Her motto is that happy workers make happy clients. Liam makes you happy. I’m not asking you to apologize for that, any more than I’ll make excuses for not being in a relationship.”
I leaned back in my chair. “Sorry. I guess I might be a little defensive. We only got engaged about twenty-four hours ago, and I spent last evening with my family. My mom wants to plan this huge wedding, and no one can understand why I don’t want it. No one but Liam, that is. And when I pointed out to my mother that I have a job, that I can’t just devote my life to being a bride, she doesn’t seem to get it. It’s like putting on this ring teleported me back to 1955.”
Suzanne shook her head. “It doesn’t have to mean that. Stand your ground, but remember, your parents love you, and that’s why they want to celebrate this. Don’t let it get to you.” She stood up and shot me a grin. “Although it does remind me why I prefer footloose and fancy-free. Oh, and just text me that information for the event planner, please.”
I watched Suzanne leave the office, her expensive heels clicking on the wooden floor. Rubbing my forehead, I sagged back, closing my eyes. It wasn’t even noon, and I was already exhausted.
Liam and I had managed to get out of my parents’ house the night before without committing to anything related to wedding planning. I’d slept all the way home, and when we’d gotten there, I’d stripped off my clothes and fallen into bed, completely forgetting to set my alarm. Consequently, this morning I’d woken with just enough time to take a quick shower and dress for work.
All of which had gone into making me a very grumpy fiancée. Liam, knowing me by now, had stayed out of my way and pressed a to-go cup of coffee into my hand as I raced by him toward the door.
“I love you. I’ll see you tonight.” I tossed the words over my shoulder as I hustled my way to the car.
I was so focused on getting to the office and then in seeing what I’d missed during my week off that I honestly forgot all about the ring on my finger until Suzanne pointed it out. So now I was not only filled with a swirl of feelings related to being engaged, but I was a
lso flooded with guilt about forgetting that I was engaged.
The answer to all those emotions was clearly to bury myself in work and avoid thinking about them at all. And that was exactly what I did, keeping my hands on the keyboard and my eyes on the computer screen, working through lunch and not looking up until the buzzing of my phone caught my attention.
I rolled my eyes when my mother’s picture flashed across the caller ID. For a moment, I toyed with the idea of ignoring the call. After all, she knew I was at work. It annoyed me that she was okay with interrupting that.
But in the end, daughter guilt overcame righteous indignation, and I answered.
“Hey, Ma, what’s up?”
“Ava, I’m sorry to bother you at work.” I winced. So she wasn’t completely unaware. “But I didn’t want to disturb Liam, and I need his mother’s phone number.”
I raised one eyebrow, as though she could see me. “Didn’t you hear Liam say he’s off this week? What were you going to disturb?”
Her tongue click sounded clear through the phone. “You know men, Ava, they always have something going on. I’m sure he’s busy. Anyway, just give me Mrs. Bailey’s number, and I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing.”
“Why do you need her number?” The idea of my mother and Liam’s chatting just didn’t sit well. The two women had met at our college graduation two years ago, and they’d gotten along without any issue. But that was before the Baileys had split up, and before I was about to be Laura Bailey’s daughter-in-law.
Daughter-in-law. The words made my stomach clench. I had no problem with the idea of being Liam’s wife. I loved that. But although his parents and I had come to a sort of peace over the last few years, I still wasn’t comfortable with them. I was fairly certain the feeling was mutual.
“Your father and I want to invite them to dinner. Liam’s parents, I mean. So we can talk about the wedding plans. It’s how things are done, Ava. The bride’s parents call the groom’s parents, and they work it all out between them.”
“No, no, no.” I gritted my teeth and got up to close my office door. “Listen, Ma, I get that you’re excited and you want to start making this a big deal, but you can’t. Not yet. Maybe not at all. We haven’t even told Liam’s parents that we’re engaged.”
“Why on earth not?” My mother’s voice went up three octaves. I heard a shout behind her amid the sound of other voices, and I realized she must be in the kitchen at the restaurant.
“Because he’s not ready. You don’t know how they are, Ma. They’re not like us. The whole family’s messed up. His dad is banging his secretary, and maybe someone else, too. We don’t know. And his mom is dating her yoga teacher, and they both want to tell Liam all about it—”
“Ava Catarine! Stop. I don’t want to hear this, God forbid, and watch your language. I’m sorry about Liam’s parents. Divorce is always a tragedy. But he has to tell them. Don’t you think they’re going to figure it out when they get the wedding invitation?”
“If they do.” I stretched back in my chair and let it swivel in a slow circle. “We still don’t know what kind of wedding we’re having, Ma. Maybe we’ll just do it and then tell them afterward. Eventually.”
There was an ominous silence on the other end of the line. The background noise swelled and then faded, and I heard a sharp bang that sounded like a door slamming. Yeah, she was pissed, and she’d taken this conversation outside so she could yell at me in peace.
“Ava, this is your wedding. The one and only you’ll ever have. You don’t ‘just do it’ and then tell the groom’s parents. That’s not how we do things.”
“Maybe it’s not how Carl and Angela did, but Liam and I are different. We want. . well, we’re not sure exactly what we want yet, but not a huge affair.”
The sigh my mother heaved nearly stirred my hair, even from sixty miles away. “I just don’t understand. I thought you always wanted a fairy tale wedding. Is it Liam? Does he want it quieter?”
“Actually, Ma, no. I was the one who told him I thought I wanted something smaller. I saw what Julia and Jesse went through. And . . .” I rubbed the side of my neck. “It was hard enough on them with Jesse’s mom being a crazy lady. Both of Liam’s parents are acting like children. It would just eat at him, having to get through a big wedding with them sniping at each other. And us.”
“Okay.” Her voice was resigned. “But you still need to tell them about that you’re engaged. Remember, Ava, these two people are going to be part of your life from now on. This isn’t just about a wedding. It’s about a marriage.”
“I hear you, Ma. Thanks.” I glanced at the clock on my computer screen. “Listen, I need to go. I have a meeting in five minutes. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”
“Love you, too, sweetie. Think about what I said.”
I WAS SERIOUSLY DRAGGING when I got home that night. As I pulled into the parking lot of our complex, I passed Giff and Jeff’s corner-unit townhouse and spotted them sitting on the deck. When Giff recognized my car, he jumped up and waved his arms.
I stopped at the curb and rolled down my window. “Hey, good looking. Are you guys grilling tonight?”
“Yeah, we’re doing the barbecue deal, but let’s talk about something more important. Gimme.” He held out his hand, motioning to me.
Grinning, I played dumb. “What do you mean? Give you what?”
“Don’t play with me, peaches! I want to see that sparkler my boy put on your finger.”
“Okay, but don’t touch. You’re going to be totally jealous.” I laid my hand on his palm.
“Oh, look at this. Jeff, come here. Check out what these two crazy kids have gone and done.”
Jeff strolled over and bent to look in the window, resting one arm over Giff’s back. “Hey, Ava. Congratulations are in order, huh? That’s great. Did the wedding this weekend inspire you?”
I laughed. “Actually, I think Liam showed great courage proposing when he did. Not that you didn’t do an amazing job, Giff. You did. Just a lot to take in, I guess.”
“I’m so happy for you both.” Giff swallowed hard, and I felt a lump in my own throat. He’d been such a good friend to both of us. Without Giff’s intervention, I might’ve been too stubborn to take a chance on Liam. I couldn’t imagine what my life would’ve been like today if I hadn’t, but it would be far emptier.
“Did Liam tell you?” I craned my neck to see them better.
“Yeah, we went to the gym this morning. He was bursting with the news.” He released my hand and tapped the side of the car. “I know you’re on your way home now, but just give me a shout when you’re ready to start planning. We’ll sit down and look at dates, venues . . . I can’t wait.”
Oddly, the idea of disappointing Giff by telling him we weren’t having a huge wedding weighed on me more than the thought of upsetting my mom. “Well . . . it’s early days yet. We’ll see.”
Giff cocked one eyebrow at me. “Beetle said something about Christmas. If you’re talking this Christmas, peaches, we’re already behind times.”
I shrugged and repeated my last words. “We’ll see.” I leaned down and smiled up at both of them. “I’ll let you get back to your grilling. See you later.”
“You can count on it. Remember what I said. Tick-tock, tick-tock.”
I stuck out my tongue at him and drove away.
Our townhouse was several buildings down, and by the time I parked and climbed the few stairs to our front door, my head was beginning to pound. But as soon as I stepped inside, a tempting aroma wafted to my nose. Liam met me with a kiss and a glass of wine.
I wound my arms around his neck. “You are without doubt the best boyfriend in the world. Hey, want to marry me?”
He rubbed his nose against mine, smiling. “I think I just might do that.” He kissed me again, this time a simple touch to my lips. “Why don’t you go get changed? I’ve got enchiladas in the oven, and they should be ready by the time you come downstairs.”
; “You know, if this history professor gig doesn’t work out, you could just be a house husband.” I called the words back as I headed upstairs. “I like coming home to a hot supper.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Hurry up, before it’s not hot anymore.”
In our room, I was further delighted to see that he’d also unpacked the suitcases and done all the laundry. I changed as fast as I could, since my stomach was reminding me that I’d missed lunch today.
“Here you go. Sit down, and I’ll bring the food.” Liam pulled out my chair for me.
“Okay. So you did the laundry, cleaned the house, set the table and made dinner. Is there something you have to tell me?” I picked up my wine glass and sipped.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, there is.” He set the long glass dish of enchiladas in the center of the table and squatted down next to my chair. Brushing back my hair from my face, he smiled. “Thank you for saying yes. All day long, I kept thinking . . . I can’t believe how lucky I am. I get to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Tears sprung to my eyes. “I’m the luckiest.” I smoothed my fingers over his cheek. “How many girls get the hot guy they never dreamed of having . . . and then it turns out he’s also a wonderful cook, too?”
Liam laughed as he stood up. “Don’t forget great in bed.”
I reached to spoon food onto my plate. “Don’t worry. I could never forget that.” I forked off a bite of enchilada. “Mmmm . . . this is delicious.”
“Good.” We ate in silence for a few moments before he spoke again. “How was your first day back at work? Was it crazy?”
“Not as bad as it could’ve been, I guess.” I set down my fork and wiped my lips with the napkin. “Suzanne loved my ring. Oh, and my mom called. She wanted your mother’s phone number.”
Liam froze mid-bite. “Why?”
“Why else? Wedding planning. Don’t worry.” I laid a hand on his arm. “I didn’t give her the number, and I told her we’d take care of everything in our own time.”
I Choose You (Perfect Dish Romances Book 3) Page 8