by Howe, Violet
“So let’s say for the rest of the night, you don’t have to deal with it. We’ll turn the phones off and watch some sappy movies, or we can play a round of Scrabble, or we could venture down the hallway and take your mind off it another way.”
Hmmm. Let me see. A sappy movie that will make me cry, a round of Scrabble where I have to tax my tired brain in order to beat Mr. Word Genius, or a little romp between the sheets with my tanned, sculpted, curly-haired, blue-eyed fiancé? Not even a question.
Thursday, September 11th
Maggie called last night to ask if Cabe and I would meet her for lunch. I didn’t have any apprehension this time, just curiosity and a heavy dose of guilt for leaving the pile of papers on my desk to go out to lunch.
“I wanted to talk to you both about the rehearsal dinner,” she said after we’d finished the customary small talk. “Do you know of a location that would be appropriate to hold it?”
My stomach lurched. I hadn’t even thought of the rehearsal dinner. Hell, I’d had so much stress thinking about the wedding itself I’d not even considered that we’d have a rehearsal or rehearsal dinner.
“What were you thinking of doing? Like a restaurant or something?” I asked.
“I’d like to reserve a private space. I have a dear friend, Sandy, who owns an event company in Atlanta. They do floral design, decor, catering. I’d thought to rent a space near your church and have her bring her team. If that’s okay with you?”
I nodded. “Sure, that sounds great. I’m just not sure what’s available like that. I mean, you could do the fellowship hall at the church, which is where we’re having the reception. I don’t really know of like a convention space or banquet hall, though.”
“It’s a real small town, Mom.” Cabe chuckled and winked at me.
“I see. Well, I can have Sandy research it, I suppose.”
“I’ll ask my mom, too. She may know of something.”
Maggie smiled and shifted her weight in her chair. “The other thing I wanted to mention, and I want to make it clear that I’m not trying to step on toes or take control, but I’d like to offer Sandy’s services. She does amazing events, and she’s already said she’d love to be involved in whatever way possible. Sandy and I danced together when we first made Company, oh, a hundred years ago when the world was young. She’s known Cabe his whole life, and she’s thrilled that you’re getting married so near her. If you wanted to have her do the flowers or the catering, I’d be happy to put you in touch with her. I’ll pick up the tab for whatever you choose in floral as my wedding gift to you.”
A tiny little spark of excitement caught fire within me and spread the smile across my face. “Really? That would be incredible!”
Part of my hesitation in planning the floral and catering was the lack of options available. The only caterer in our tiny town is Bubba Dog’s BBQ, which is not what I have in mind for my wedding. As far as flowers, I knew Maude Price could do a decent job, but she was no designer. She’d run the floral shop in town for over thirty years, but her forte was delivery bouquets and funeral wreaths. Not centerpieces. Unfortunately, Mama would have a hissy fit if I mentioned hiring someone from Atlanta, but if it was a gift from Maggie, surely she wouldn’t refuse that!
“Great,” Maggie said. “I’ll text you Sandy’s contact info and you can get in touch with her directly. Then just let me know what you decide and I’ll work it out with her.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Cabe said as he leaned in to plant a light kiss on her cheek. He sat back and took my hand in his. “We really appreciate it. Tyler’s been under a lot of stress trying to get everything planned, and I know it would help her a lot for Sandy to be onboard.”
I nodded and thanked Maggie, trying to ignore the whiny voice in the back of my head telling me I was nuts if I thought my mother was going to be okay with this.
She had no reason not to, really. I mean, it would be a lot less work for her, right?
I watched Cabe as we walked hand-in-hand back to our cars, amused by the sly grin he wore.
“Did you do that?”
“Do what?” he asked, the grin spreading.
“Did you tell your mom to do that?”
He lifted my hand to his lips and deposited a soft kiss against it, tickling my insides and sending little waves of pleasure through me.
“She asked what we wanted for a wedding gift, and I might have mentioned to her that this would be helpful.” He stopped walking and faced me. “Is that okay? I mean, if you don’t want it…”
“Oh, no! I think it’s brilliant. If it’s a gift, that makes it a whole different issue to present to my mother. She won’t want me to offend your mom or make her feel slighted. Mama would tell me no all day long on hiring anyone, but she won’t say no to your mom. Hell, even if we pay your mom for it and just say it was a gift, this is amazing.”
He laughed. “Whew. I didn’t know how you’d take it, and I worried I was going to add more stress instead of helping. Mom was thrilled. She wasn’t sure what to get us, and she would love having Sandy involved. Makes her feel more a part of things, you know? She’s kind of far removed from it all since it’s happening in your hometown and your mom’s doing everything.”
“My mom’s not supposed to be doing everything,” I said as Cabe opened my car door.
“Well, then hopefully this will work out nicely for everyone. I may go by Dean’s after work and hang out for a while. What time are you and Mel done dress shopping?”
“Don’t know. Depends on whether or not we find something quickly, I suppose.”
“Okay. You gonna stop by home and let Deacon out, or should I?”
“I’ll get him. You go to Dean’s. Thanks, Cabe. I really appreciate what you did.”
He kissed me and flashed me a wink with a quick pat on my rump as he walked away.
Love him to death. Could just eat him up, I swear.
Tuesday, September 16th
I don’t know who was more nervous today. Me or the bride.
I originally told Priscilla that I had too many weddings in September to re-book hers, but she argued that all their details were already planned from the last time they tried this, and since they only wanted a quick ceremony and a champagne toast, it would be less than two hours out of my day. They weren’t bringing her parents or the kids—to take the pressure off Neal, she said—and she’d decided to have the ceremony at the hotel to eliminate the possibility of Neal disappearing like last time.
None of that helped my nerves any. On top of my normal stress level with the number of events our office is producing this month and the underlying stress of my own wedding, the last thing I wanted to comfort this poor woman again if Neal’s feet turned cold a second time.
He actually alluded to that in an ill-worded apology when I greeted them in the hotel lobby last night.
“Just so you know, I brought a couple extra pair of socks this time. You know, so my feet don’t get cold or nothing. I offered to let her handcuff me to the bed to make sure I wasn’t going nowhere, but she said she’d take her chances and save the handcuffs for the honeymoon. So thanks for fitting us in and sorry ‘bout all that.”
I nodded and tried to force a smile, unsure of how to respond appropriately.
He was sitting in the lobby again this morning when I arrived, sipping a coffee in a black suit with a white shirt and black tie.
“Don’t you look handsome?” I asked with more enthusiasm than I felt. “Is Priscilla ready?”
He broke into a grin but shook his head no. I swear I could see a sheen of perspiration covering his face. His hands shook slightly on the coffee cup, and I wondered if perhaps he’d taken something. He just seemed edgy. Hyper. Too tense for a man prone to skipping town. It made me wary of leaving him in the lobby alone.
I called Priscilla on my cell and asked how long she needed. Normally, I’d be headed to her room to see for myself and assist her in getting out of the room and downstairs. But I figured in this case, I
was more help to her staying put on Neal-watch.
She assured me she’d be down within twenty minutes and asked if I’d seen Neal.
“Yep. He’s standing here with me right now.”
Priscilla exhaled. “Thank you, Tyler. Keep an eye on him, okay?”
I agreed I would and ended the call. Why does she want to marry someone she needs to guard in order to get him down the aisle? If he doesn’t walk willingly, then why would she take those vows seriously? But on the other hand, why is he back here and pledging to walk with her if he doesn’t want to be? Why even pretend just to run out all over again?
The conversation between Neal and me ran dry after a few short minutes, and I was relieved when the officiant arrived. Reverend Markham could talk a fence post into the ground, so I stood back and let him take over the small talk while we waited for Priscilla.
Neal grew more antsy as the clock ticked on, and the beads of sweat rolled down the sides of his face and seeped into his collar. I left him with Reverend Markham just long enough to go in the ladies’ room and get tissues, which Neal accepted graciously as he dabbed at his face.
“Thanks, Tyler. Warm in this monkey suit. Not used to wearing a jacket. Florida heat. Probably sweating off a hangover a little, too.”
His plethora of excuses rolled out one right after another, and I felt sorry for the man. What was his deal? Did he not want to marry Priscilla? Was it the kids that scared him like he’d mentioned in the letter last time? Was it her parents, who I could easily see as crossing the line into intimidating without much of a nudge? Did he love her? If not, why on earth did he come back? Because at that moment, he certainly did not look the epitome of the happy groom excited to see his beautiful bride. He looked more like a dead man walking. Breathing his last breaths of fresh air before the executioner carried out his sentence.
As much as I hated to leave him, I needed to make sure the ceremony site was set up and put the speaker in place for the iPod so we’d have music.
“You’re okay here with Reverend Markham for a few minutes? I need to check on a couple of things.”
Neal laughed a little too heartily and nodded. “I’m fine, Tyler. Don’t worry about me. I ain’t going nowhere. She’d kill me if I pulled that again.”
I smiled and made eye contact with Reverend Markham, who gave me one deep nod as if to say “I got this. Go ahead.”
The hotel’s archway had been set in the courtyard area and covered in silk greenery with large pink silk hibiscus. A white column stood at either side of the aisle. The whole set-up looked somewhat out of place without any chairs, but since we had no guests, none were needed.
My phone rang as I started back into the hotel.
“Hi Priscilla, you ready?”
“Yeah, I think so. I have Neal’s boutonniere here with my bouquet. Should I just bring it down with me?”
“Sure. You need me to come up?” I felt guilty for leaving her on her own, especially now that Reverend Markham was babysitting Neal, which left me free.
“No, that’s fine. I’ll just grab the bouquet and the boutonniere and head to the elevator. Can you make sure Neal has a key? I wasn’t planning to bring my purse, so I have no place to stick a key. Unless I hide it in my cleavage, I suppose.” She chuckled, and I could hear nervous apprehension in her voice. Was that due to getting married or fear about the groom disappearing?
“I’m not with him right this minute. Why don’t you bring the key with you, and I can hold it or give it to Neal? In case he doesn’t have one.”
“You’re not with him? Where is he? When did you last see him?” The emotion in her voice heightened, and I could almost feel her fear through the phone.
“It’s okay! He’s with Reverend Markham in the lobby. I needed to check the ceremony site and get the speaker set up. I’m headed back to them now. Unless you want me to come get you?”
“No, no. I’ll come down. I’m sorry to be such a nervous Nellie. I know he’ll be there. I guess it’s just hard to forget what it felt like before, you know?”
I certainly knew. I remembered the angst I felt on her behalf when it all happened. Then coincidentally, the day after Neal abandoned Priscilla at the altar, Cabe went AWOL and dropped off the face of the earth, which started our downward spiral.
So yes. I remembered what it felt like all too well, and associating their wedding with our painful past was probably part of the reason for my uneasiness today. I knew that was foolish, of course. Cabe and I were engaged now. Living together. Making a life together in our new home. Planning a wedding. We couldn’t be further from where we were the last time Neal walked out on Priscilla. But the heart holds onto pain and reminds you how it feels every now and then.
I swung by the lobby to tell Neal and Reverend Markham that Priscilla was on her way down, figuring I had plenty of time to alert them and still be at the bottom of the elevator when she stepped out. She’d risked him being alone in order to preserve some mystery about her dress and appearance, so I didn’t want to spoil that now by having him near the elevator when she exited.
Reverend Markham stood out right away, a tall man in a fancy floor-length black robe amid a lobby of shorts and flip-flops and casual vacationers. What I didn’t see right away was a short sweaty man in a black suit and white shirt with black tie. I scanned the lobby as I approached the Reverend, ever hopeful that Neal was nearby.
“Where’s Neal?” I asked in a voice that conveyed more panic than I intended.
Reverend Markham looked startled and concerned by my anxiety and put his hand on my forearm to help put my mind at ease. “It’s fine. He needed to use the restroom.” The older gentleman leaned forward with a conspiratorial smile. “I also suggested perhaps he might want to splash a bit of cold water on his face. He was sweating up a storm. Not used to the Florida heat, I guess.”
“No! Reverend Markham, you can’t let him out of your sight! He’s not sweating because of the heat. Oh no. This is not happening. Please go in the men’s room and find him. Stay with him while I go meet Priscilla and get her tucked out of sight. I’ll meet you back here in the lobby, okay?”
The poor man scrunched his brows together in confusion, but he did as I asked and headed toward the restroom to find Neal. I almost broke into a run in my efforts to reach Priscilla before she got off the elevator and wandered into the lobby alone. Or ran into Neal. Or realized Neal might be gone.
Undoubtedly not. Undoubtedly, the man would not bring this poor woman all the way back down here and do the same damned thing all over again. Not twenty minutes after assuring me he was all in and ready to go. Surely, lightning would not strike twice.
Except this is Florida. The lightning capital of the world.
He wasn’t in the restroom. He didn’t make it back to the lobby.
The valet stand confirmed a man in a sweat-stained white shirt carrying a black jacket had indeed asked them to call a taxi for him with a destination of Orlando International Airport. Neal had done it again.
Priscilla was inconsolable, and I was sick to my stomach. For her and for the memory of pains gone by. How many times can one man break your heart? I hope I never have to find out.
Wednesday, September 17th
They say history repeats itself. They say truth is stranger than fiction. But if anyone had told me the day after Priscilla’s fiancé stood her up the second time, Cabe would disappear again, I would have told them to go screw themselves.
Things were normal this morning. Nothing amiss. We shared an egg sandwich and some coffee before we each left for work. We kissed each other goodbye and went our separate ways.
Normally, I hear from him around ten. He takes a break. Gets a coffee. Goes for stroll to stretch his legs, and gives me a call.
No call this morning.
It probably wouldn’t have seemed too odd if I hadn’t been on edge from Priscilla and Neal, but I was almost looking for it to happen. And it did.
When he didn’t call at lunch, I trie
d his phone, but it went straight to voice mail. No biggie. Neither of us does lunch at a specific time each day, so I thought perhaps he was busy with a project. But when he hadn’t called me back by two, I started freaking out.
Cabe reaches out to me multiple times a day. He calls. He texts. He tags me on social media or shares an email he found interesting or funny. For him to go radio silent on the day after Priscilla and Neal’s “Crash and Burn: Part Two” not only repeated history but it also felt like a sick joke.
I had thought about mentioning it to him last night when I recapped the day, but I didn’t want to bring up bad memories. I don’t think he has any way of knowing that everything went south the day after their ill-fated wedding last time, so he wouldn’t make that connection now.
My work lay in stacks in front of me untouched. My thoughts were on one track. Why wasn’t he calling or answering my texts and calls? Where was he?
By the time I left the office at five, I was pissed and ready to throw up. No way in hell was I prepared to go through this with him again. Not after all this time. Not after everything we’d been through and how good it had been.
What the hell?
To see his car in the driveway when I pulled in provided some measure of relief, but also a huge dose of frustration and anxiety. I didn’t know what to expect as I climbed the porch steps. Had he changed his mind? Gotten cold feet and decided not to marry me? Was Monica back? Had they been talking all along? Had Galen done something to undermine us? Was he inside at that moment packing my stuff to throw me out? Where would I go? Where would I live? What would I do and how would I recover again?
It’s amazing how far the human brain can take things in the short distance of four porch steps. The level of my paranoia and my overactive imagination is embarrassing to write about, but it took over. If there was a depth of torment my mind could conceive, it went there.