A Beginner's Guide To Saying I Do

by Jennifer Joyce

  ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘Do you mind not having one?’ I didn’t want to come across as a bridezilla who wanted everything her own way, but Jared wasn’t giving me much in the way of preferences.

  ‘Not at all.’

  We pulled up outside Linda and Bob’s house and I reluctantly put my notebook away. There was so much to do that any time away from the notebook felt like I was squandering vital planning opportunities. The house was full, as it usually was whenever we visited. Linda and Bob had a house that always seemed so alive, whether the whole family was squeezed into the sitting room or fragmented into smaller groups throughout the house. Growing up with only Mum, Dad and Stephen, it was a bit of a change for me, but I’d soon grown to adore Jared’s chaotic family. The eldest of four, Jared had three younger sisters, the youngest being seventeen-year-old Jimmy. Ally and Freya were in their early thirties, and sat in the middle of the Williams family sandwich. Ally was married to Gavin and together they had an adorable toddler son (though, as adorable as Noah was, it was usually him who caused the majority of the chaos at the Williams’ house). Sure enough, as soon as we stepped into the house we were welcomed by Noah’s sticky hands reaching out for a cuddle. Jared scooped him up and blew a loud raspberry on his little pot belly, not caring that Noah was smearing him with melted chocolate buttons. Hefting Noah onto his hip, Jared strode into the sitting room, where the rest of the family were gathered.

  ‘We have news!’ Jared had decided to make the announcement sooner rather than later. If important business wasn’t attended to quickly in the Williams household, it would be forgotten as tea and cake took precedence (it was why I liked visiting Jared’s parents so much).

  ‘Let me guess.’ Ally grabbed Noah and pounced on him with a handful of wet wipes. ‘Ruth’s pregnant!’ Ally widened her eyes at her son, already envisioning a little cousin for Noah.

  ‘No!’ Jared and I answered quickly, dismayed at the suggestion. I hoped my ovaries weren’t listening to all this pregnancy talk and getting ideas. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.

  ‘It’s about the wedding,’ Jared clarified. ‘It’s been brought forward slightly. We’re getting married in six weeks.’

  ‘Six weeks?’ Linda’s mouth fell open. ‘That’s an awfully short time to plan a wedding.’

  ‘What’s to plan?’ Freya gave a nonchalant shrug. ‘They’ve booked the church. All they have to do is buy a dress and a suit and they’re good to go.’

  Ally shook her head at her sister. ‘You can tell you’ve never planned a wedding. There’s so much to think about. Not that I’m saying you can’t do it in six weeks.’ Ally panicked that she’d offended us, but I quickly assured her that she hadn’t. There was so much to think about. This wasn’t breaking news.

  ‘And we don’t have much in the pot, so we have to plan it on a small budget,’ Jared added. We’d been expecting to save up for at least a year, then over two, so the small timeframe had put our funds in jeopardy. ‘We don’t want to get into debt so we haven’t got a great deal to play with.’

  ‘But that just means we have to be creative.’ I’d decided that ‘being creative’ (code word for cheap) would make the whole process fun rather than filling us with debilitating fear. Time would tell how that theory would pan out.

  ‘I think it’s romantic,’ Linda decided. I added ‘romantic’ to my list of deluded buzz words. ‘And if you need me and your dad to chip in financially, we’ll do what we can.’

  ‘That really isn’t necessary.’ I was horrified at the thought of Linda and Bob thinking we’d come begging for cash. ‘We’ll manage. If we have to make cutbacks, we will. The marriage is the important bit, not the wedding.’

  ‘That’s true, but the offer is there.’ Linda looked across at her husband and her eyes went soft. ‘You know, Bob and I had a very small wedding. Only our parents and our closest friends and family were there. Mind you, it was a bit of a rush job, what with Jared being on the way. We weren’t fussed, but my parents were livid and practically marched Bob down the aisle.’

  ‘Not that I needed any encouragement.’ Bob’s chest puffed out a little. ‘I loved you and wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.’

  ‘Dad, behave yourself.’ Freya made gagging motions but I thought it was sweet. We could do this. It would be a breeze. Sort of.

  It was our weekly A Beginner’s Guide To You night and we had all gathered at Billy and Theo’s. The house was full of the usual gang, plus Richard and newbie Casey. We waited until the end of the episode before we made our announcement. Erin, of course, already knew. I couldn’t help telling my best friend.

  ‘I think it’s great,’ Richard said as he shook Jared’s hand. I wasn’t sure whether Erin had already told him. She’d sworn to keep it to herself, but everybody knows that partners don’t count. ‘If you love someone, of course you should get married as soon as possible.’

  ‘Don’t you be getting any ideas,’ Erin warned.

  ‘Nah, I don’t buy it.’ Theo gave himself a thorough scratch, which, as you can probably imagine, was pleasant viewing for the rest of us. Why did we bother with the lives of Meg and Tom when we could witness Theo giving his nethers a good old rustle? ‘Are you up the spout?’

  What was it with the pregnancy thing? ‘Nicely phrased, Theo, but no, I’m not pregnant.’

  Quinn gave a dramatic sigh, along with a Disney-princess-style eye fluttering. ‘I think it’s ever so romantic. I wish someone would propose to me. Everyone’s getting married but me.’

  ‘I’m not.’ Theo gave himself another scratch. Was it any wonder there weren’t any girls dragging the dude down the aisle?

  ‘You don’t count,’ Quinn replied.

  ‘And why not? Am I not good enough for you or something?’

  ‘Don’t get huffy. You wouldn’t want to marry me either.’

  Theo shrugged. ‘I might. You’re well fit.’

  ‘Oh.’ Quinn’s Disney eye fluttering was back.

  ‘And I bet you make a cracking bacon butty, which everyone knows is the best quality any wife can have.’

  ‘Are you looking for a wife – or a maid?’

  Theo grinned and I held in a groan. I’d lived with Theo for long enough to know what was coming. ‘Aren’t they the same thing?’

  ‘You’re such a pig.’ Quinn was no longer channelling demure Disney princesses as she launched a cushion across the room at Theo.

  Theo caught the cushion and positioned it behind his head. ‘But I’m a lovable pig.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Theo,’ I said, though I’d heard just how lovable the man could be through my former bedroom wall on too many occasions. ‘Anyway, let’s move away from this conversation before Theo ends up wearing our snacks.’ I pulled the bowl of crinkle-cut crisps towards me before Quinn got any ideas. ‘And get back to what we came here for. To talk about my wedding!’ I grinned at the group, but I wasn’t kidding. Those guys may have been under the impression that we’d gathered to watch TV, but for the next six weeks we had far more important things to do. ‘We don’t have long to save up for the wedding, so we’ve got a tight budget we need to stick to. That means we won’t be having the reception at the golf club as originally planned. Unless our guests want to party in the car park and eat gravel, of course.’ I looked around the room, but nobody seemed keen on that idea.

  ‘Why don’t you have the reception at Cosmo’s?’ Billy suggested. Cosmo’s was a local restaurant run by an old friend of ours. ‘I’m sure Cosmo will give you a great deal, with mates’ rates and everything.’

  Leaping out of my seat, I threw myself into Billy’s lap, ruffling his already unruly mop of brown curls. ‘Billy, you’re a genius. I knew there was a reason you were one of my best friends.’ I turned to Jared. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Sounds good to me.’

  ‘Great! I’ll speak to Cosmo tomorrow then.’ I removed myself from Billy’s lap and returned to my seat. ‘Good work, Billy. An
d speaking of work, I’m going to need all of your help. There’s a wedding fair on at the weekend and I need you all to come with me. Many hands make light work, and all that. So, what do you think?’

  As if my friends had a choice in the matter!

  Nineteen

  Trina

  ‘Where the hell have you been?’

  Aidan took a protective step back as Trina lunged at him, panicking as she threw herself over the threshold with arms outstretched and ready to grab him. But instead of walloping him as he suspected she was about to, Trina pulled him into a rib-crunching hug, burying her face in his T-shirt. Aidan hesitated for the briefest of moments before he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her back almost as fiercely.

  ‘Hey, what’s the matter? I haven’t been anywhere.’

  Trina gave a sniff before she attempted to pull herself together. ‘You haven’t been here. I’ve been back for days.’

  ‘I thought I’d give you and Rory a bit of alone time.’ Aidan led Trina inside, silently marvelling at the spacious annexe. ‘You know, to do what newlyweds do.’

  ‘Ha! If only.’ Trina shuffled into the sitting room and slumped onto the sofa. She was too miserable to play the perfect hostess and offer drinks and snacks. ‘Rory is too busy working or playing golf. He hasn’t been home before ten o’clock since we arrived home, and even then he’s usually got a hanger-on with him. Do you remember his buffoon of a best man from the wedding? Ferguson?’ Aidan shook his head and Trina waved her hand. It was inconsequential, really. The fact was, Rory insisted on bringing these people home with him every night, meaning they hadn’t had a minute of time alone together since their honeymoon. ‘He’s been here almost every night, scoffing everything in sight. We didn’t even get to spend our first evening here alone. Rory invited his sister and her friend back to guzzle the last of our champagne.’

  ‘So it hasn’t been quite the wedded bliss you were expecting?’

  Trina’s eyes pooled with tears, but she didn’t bother to swipe them away. If she couldn’t cry in front of Aidan, her closest friend, who could she cry in front of? Certainly not Rory. He wouldn’t notice if her eyes spurted out the contents of Lake Windermere.

  ‘I’ve just been so lonely, Aidan.’ It wasn’t like this before the wedding. Rory had always been so attentive, so loving. Now he barely noticed Trina was there at all. And although Trina had adored her job, Rory had talked her into giving it up, claiming they’d be able to spend more time together this way. Ha! ‘I’ve been sitting here, on my own, day after day. The only person who has visited me is my cousin, Ruth. Mum’s still on her cruise and Tori’s still insisting that she’s the ugly sister who will never get married.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Trina. I had no idea.’ Aidan felt awful. He’d thought he was doing the right thing by staying away for a while. ‘You know you could have called me, don’t you? I’m always here for you. Always.’

  The tears that had been threatening to fall spilled forth, bringing with them an unattractive amount of snot. Trina grabbed a tissue from the box she’d been working her way through since she arrived back from her honeymoon, and blew her nose.

  ‘I just never expected it to be like this.’

  ‘I know, sweetie.’ Aidan pulled Trina into his T-shirt, not minding at all that it was now smeared with tears and gook. ‘But it will get better, I’m sure.’

  ‘Do you really think so?’

  How could Aidan answer in anything but the affirmative when Trina looked up at him through wide, child-like eyes, her eyelashes damp with tears? ‘Of course I do. This is all new to both you and Rory.’

  ‘It is new. And scary. I feel like I’m doing something wrong.’ Trina looked down at her hands, her fingers scrunching up the tissue. ‘Like I’m not being a good wife.’

  ‘Oh, Trina, sweetie.’ Aidan removed the tissue from Trina’s fingers so that he could hold her hands. ‘You love Rory. That’s all you need to do.’

  ‘Really?’

  He gave Trina’s hands a quick squeeze. ‘Really. Now, dry those tears. I’ll put the kettle on and you can show me your wedding photos. I know you’re dying to.’

  Trina bit her lip, trying to keep a smile from sliding onto her face, but it was no use. Aidan knew exactly how to make her feel better. ‘They are pretty spectacular photos.’

  ‘There you go then. Get them ready.’

  Trina pulled out her MacBook while Aidan made the tea. They squished up on the sofa and watched the slideshow, laughing at the funny photos (Aidan trying to foxtrot with some aging relative of Trina’s) and aahing at the sweet ones (Rory’s little cousin kissing Trina’s little second cousin on the cheek).

  ‘Look at how handsome you are in this one.’ Trina paused the slideshow. She couldn’t believe how debonair Aidan could be when he wanted to be.

  Aidan shifted on the sofa so that he was facing away from the laptop and observing Trina instead. ‘Are you saying I’m not usually handsome?’

  Trina gave him a nudge. ‘You know what I mean. You’re not usually so … groomed.’ With his tattoos and piercings, Aidan usually had a rough-around-the-edges look about him.

  ‘I’m a stylist. I’m always groomed.’

  ‘Polished, then.’ Trina gave him another nudge and resumed the slideshow. ‘You know what I mean. Anyway, I like your look. It’s you. I’m just saying you scrub up well.’

  ‘So do you.’ Aidan nodded at the image on the MacBook. Trina was sitting at her dressing table, a glass of champagne at her smiling lips. Aidan was off-camera. He’d just finished styling her hair and had said something amusing. Trina wished she could remember what.

  ‘Look how hot Rory is!’ Trina pulled the MacBook closer. She couldn’t believe she’d actually married the man on her screen.

  Aidan pulled himself up off the sofa. ‘Do you fancy another cup of tea?’

  Trina felt much better by the time Aidan left. He’d managed to calm her down with copious amounts of sweet tea and allowed her to pore over her wedding photos for ages. Being reminded of their beautiful wedding allowed Trina to put things into perspective. Yes, Rory worked hard, but that had always been the case and he was working hard for their future together. And of course Rory would want to bring friends over to the house. It was his home too, after all. Trina was starting to feel pretty ridiculous. What must Aidan think of her, sniffling away like a spoiled two-year-old?

  Trina was putting too much pressure on her marriage. It was only a couple of weeks old, just a newborn marriage, really. She had to give everything a chance to settle down and realise that fairy tales were a thing of fiction, whereas reality needed a bit more work.

  Pulling on a pair of boots, Trina slipped out of the annexe and hurried over to the main house in search of Mrs Timmons. She found the housekeeper in the kitchen, busily scrubbing at a hefty pan.

  ‘Hello, dear.’ Mrs Timmons wiped the suds from her hands with a tea towel as Trina approached, shooing away the family’s aging dog as he attempted to clamber up Trina’s thighs. ‘If you’re looking for Mrs Hamilton-Wraith, you’ve just missed her. She’s gone to visit Mrs Goleman and won’t be back for an hour or so. Would you like me to pass on a message?’

  ‘No, that’s okay. I popped over to see you.’

  ‘Me?’ Mrs Timmons was surprised to hear this, but she hid it quite well. ‘What can I do for you, dear?’

  ‘I was wondering if you had a recipe for that chicken dish you make. The one Rory loves?’ Trina was going to stop snivelling and be proactive. If she wanted a little romance in her marriage, she was going to have to be the driving force on this occasion. She would make Rory his favourite meal, which they would enjoy over candlelight – even if they had to eat it late at night once all their guests had gone home.

  ‘Would you like me to make it for you? It won’t be any trouble. I’ll bring it over this evening, before Rory gets home.’ Mrs Timmons tapped the side of her nose. ‘He’ll never know. It’ll be our little secret.’

  It was tempti
ng. Very tempting.

  But no.

  ‘That’s very kind, Mrs Timmons, but I wanted to make it myself.’

  ‘Oh.’ Mrs Timmons couldn’t hide her surprise this time. Trina – or any other member of the household – had never shown any inclination to cook for themselves. Since arriving home from their honeymoon, Trina and Rory had been surviving on meals prepared and frozen by Mrs Timmons. All they’d had to do was defrost and reheat them.

  ‘I want to be a good wife for Rory.’

  ‘Oh, darling.’ Mrs Timmons reached out to cup Trina’s chin with her still slightly damp fingers. ‘You are a good wife. Don’t you let any of them tell you otherwise.’ Mrs Timmons quickly dropped her fingers and turned away from Trina, shuffling in the pocket of her polka-dotted apron for a pen. ‘I don’t use a recipe, but I’ll write one out for you. Would you like a cup of tea while you wait?’

  One cup of tea and a home-baked iced ginger biscuit later, Trina returned to the annexe with a list of ingredients and a step-by-step guide. After a quick trip to the supermarket, Trina rolled up her sleeves, set her mouth in a determined line and began her task. It took a lot of effort and a not-too-serious burn, but Trina eventually pulled the dish out of the oven. Remarkably, it resembled Mrs Timmons’s creation, if you squinted a little bit. Mrs Timmons had assured Trina that the meal would keep well if kept in its dish and reheated later on, so Trina took herself up to her en suite for a long, luxurious soak.

  Yes, her marriage would work. Trina wouldn’t hop from one husband to another like her mother, she was sure of that. She just had to get used to Rory’s ways, that’s all. To be doubly sure, Trina selected a sheer black nightie with matching robe to entice Rory. The way to a man’s heart may be through his stomach, but turning him on couldn’t hinder the marriage either, so Trina had both bases covered.

  Wrapped in the robe, Trina floated down the stairs to select music for the evening. She wanted something soft and romantic to set the mood. She was halfway through devising her playlist when the phone rang. Her heart lifted when she heard her husband’s voice. He rarely bothered to phone her any more, so this was a good sign.