Hitched
Page 11
"All over. But don't worry about it. Reid and I totally hooked up too. After all, what will be will be, ya know?"
"Are you two serious about each other," I ask. "Do you think you're going to get back together?"
Paige looks at me like I'm crazy. "As long as he's on the road, I don't think I'd ever trust him enough to be his girlfriend again. But," she says. "It was amazing while it lasted."
She studies me carefully. "Are you and Fletch back together, because if you are, I want to be far, far away when Calista finds out."
“Calista knows.” Paige’s eyes grow wide, but she doesn’t say anything. "As for Fletch and me, I think we are. I mean, I know he wants to be, I just need to make up my mind." I leave off the marriage proposal for now.
"And that explains why we have the old Ellie back!"
"I didn't know I was wrapped up so tightly."
"Oh, you were ‘Little Miss Bitch Face’ when you first got here. We were all afraid of upsetting you."
"Gee, thanks."
"No problem.”
There’s commotion across the room with everyone shouting in French. At first, I think Brady’s done something stupid – because, well, why wouldn’t he? He’s Brady after all. But then I see her: Sophie. She’s surrounded by family and friends, and her mother appears to be scolding her from the way she wags her finger and her eyes flash.
“Looks like our runaway bride has been found,” I say.
Paige flicks a glance over her shoulder. “Praise be. Now we can get on with our day without seeming uncaring.”
I chuckle. “I take it you don’t like Sophie?”
“Zee is annoying, non?” Paige says in a bad French accent.
“Oui,” I answer, and Paige giggles.
“What should we do for the rest of the day? Sailing?" Paige asks.
"I've never sailed. Besides, don't you want to hang out with Calista?"
Paige shakes her head and shuffles around so that I'm forced to turn my back to the stairs. "She's with Sophie." Her gaze is fixed on the two women across the room.
"Oh."
"It's okay. I had my best friend card revoked five years ago when she met Sophie. I'm used to it."
"So sailing?" I ask.
"Let's find the guys and do it."
"Fletch and Brady are upstairs, I think.”
Paige peers over my shoulder. "Looks like Reid is out on the patio smoking."
"Well, let's get our group together and do this," I say.
Paige floats off toward the patio. "I'll take care of Reid; you get the other guys."
My insides tremble as I climb the stairs. I haven't seen Fletch since the impromptu marriage proposal. What if he's changed his mind?
I knock on his door, and I pray my nausea stays in check.
No one answers.
That's weird. Maybe they're at Brady's room? I turn and walk down the plush hallway toward the room farthest away. I knock again.
Nothing.
Huh. Perhaps they're dealing with the change of plans with Brady and Sophie's families. Maybe Brady's parents are livid that both Sophie and Calista lied. Maybe…oh I don't know. Maybe they went off to do something fun. To give me time to think.
I head back downstairs, and spy Paige and Reid. Paige says, "We can't take him on a boat. He'll fall over and drown."
"I couldn't find Fletch and Brady anyway." Under a row of trees, are two hammocks. "We could hang out down there," I say, pointing.
"Looks perfect, Ellie," Reid says. Then he starts laughing hysterically. "For not being a pot smoker, you sure do find the perfect spots to get high."
"It's a talent," I say, bowing.
We arrange ourselves in the hammocks - me in one and Paige and Reid in the other.
"This is so much better than some silly wedding," Reid says. "As far as I'm concerned none of us have any business getting married. We're young, might as well live it up."
And that's the problem, right there. We're so young. Just twenty-three. But Fletch has a successful career, and mine is really starting to take off (even though I hate it). We're not kids anymore.
"So Ellie, that was you skinny dipping last night, wasn't it?" Reid says.
I turn beet red. "You saw?"
"Only the outlines, but I recognized Fletch, so I figured it was you."
"Oh, God."
"Hey, don't be embarrassed. I thought it was awesome," Reid says. He drapes himself lazily over Paige, who doesn't seem to mind. His hand rests on her thigh, and she nestles in closer.
"I swear if the two of you start making out here, I'm going to vomit."
"Relax, Ellie," Paige says. "We're just cuddling."
I roll my eyes. "And the next thing we know, you’re just kissing, then just grinding. I'm out of here."
"See ya," Reid says.
I flop out of my hammock and straighten my dress. I need to figure out what to say to Fletch. Is this moving too fast? Dad didn't seem to think so. In fact, he seemed a little giddy.
Once he got to know Fletch, he really liked him. Called him a great kid, and the two of them got on well.
Kid.
That's what we are. Just kids.
Or are we?
Chapter Seventeen
Two large hands cover my eyes, and I startle. "Hey, Ellie. Have you made up your mind yet?"
I pry Brady's hands off my eyes and turn around. "No?"
"Is that a doubt-filled 'no,' or is it a 'no,' I haven't had the chance to say 'yes' yet."
I tilt my head from side-to-side. "I don't think I should tell you before I have a chance to tell Fletch."
Midday sun beats down on us, burning the top of my head. "Maybe we should find some shade," I say. “They found Sophie, in case you haven’t heard.”
Brady nudges me in the arm. “Of course I know. That’s why I came to find you.”
“Funny. I thought you were here to harass me.”
“That too.”
He links arms with me and guides me back toward the house. The pavilions are still covered, and tables and chairs line the dance floor. "What are we going to do tonight?"
"Party," Brady says. "Sophie and her friends and family are leaving, so it will just be us and my family. Can’t let all the food and the band go to waste."
"Sounds great."
"But that's unimportant,” he says waving his hand. “What I want to know is when I put you and Fletch into a car to go back to the airport, am I putting in two people who are going to be just friends, or am I putting in the future Mr. And Mrs. Fletch Colson.”
"I could never be Fletch's friend."
"Then you have your answer."
He's right. I've known it since Fletch first asked me. I want to marry Fletch. More than anything.
"Excuse me," I say. "I need to find Fletch."
"Go get it, Ellie," Brady laughs. "Go get it."
"Where is he?"
"In his room, I believe."
I scurry off in the direction of the house and smack into Calista. She scrunches up her nose and ignores me. Which is fine. I have nothing to say to her, except she'll have no role in Fletch's life once we're married.
There's a lightness in my chest as I stand outside Fletch's door. I inhale deeply before knocking twice. Fletch opens the door a slit.
"Ellie!"
"Hey, I just wanted to…to come by to say that yes, I'll marry you."
Fletch's arms are around me. "Was that a yes, I heard?"
"Yes," I say. Fletch tilts my head back and kisses me deeply.
When we break apart, I say, "Were you really worried I’d say no?”
Fletch hangs his head. “I had no idea what you were going to say.” He reaches for my hand. “I hoped you’d say yes, but I didn’t know if you were willing to put up with all the craziness that comes with my life.”
“To be honest, I haven’t given it much thought.”
Fletch pulls away from me. “Then I can’t accept your answer.”
“What? Why?”
I shake my head, willing him to stop. “Fletch, I don’t care about any of that. I only care about being with you.”
“So, it’s still a yes?” he says this softly, like it’s more of a wish than a reality.
“Yes, you silly, silly man. I’d marry you today if I could.”
Our fingers interlaced, and he pulls me in closer.
“Elle?”
“Yes?”
"Would you consider marrying me today? There's an officiant. We could get a license this afternoon."
My free hand flies to my chest. I'm still getting used to the idea of Fletch and me getting married. But today? I wasn’t being serious. Was I?
“I’d want my dad here. And maybe your mom too? I think it’s important for the people who love us to be present.”
“How about this: we get married tomorrow. Today we run the essential errands, get the marriage license, and call our parents.”
"Aren't we doing everything backward?" I ask. My head is spinning.
"When have we ever done anything the right way?"
I look up into his smiling face. "Never."
"So," he says, his voice full of hope. "Will you marry me tomorrow?"
"Yes," I answer. "But under one condition: you tell Calista yourself.”
Fletch brushes the hair out of my face. "Is that all?"
"Yup."
He jumps up and fist punches the air. "We're really going to do this?"
"We are."
"I've got to find Brady." Fletch starts out the door. "And Cal. Will you wait here?"
My smile stretches between my ears. "I won't run away. At least not without you. I promise."
Fletch's face lights up, and he kisses my cheek before leaving me alone.
I'm going to marry Fletch.
I've never been so sure of anything in my life.
And yet…something nibbles at my brain. Something I can’t quite figure out.
As I walk across the hallway to my room, this something grows bigger and stronger until I’m doubting my decision to marry Fletch tomorrow. I mean, shouldn’t we have a longer engagement? Or at least have time to hammer out things like where we’re going to live?
I flop down on my bed and study the ceiling. It’s smooth, white surface is a perfect backdrop for the images playing over and over in my mind.
But one comes up more frequently than the others: Calista.
She’s always been a part of Fletch’s life, and if I’m honest with myself, I’m jealous of the bond they have. Calista knows Fletch better than anyone – including me.
She’s not going to take the news of our upcoming wedding well. In fact, I totally expect her to make some sort of commotion.
I push all thoughts of Calista from my mind and begin making a list of everything that needs to be done before tomorrow. Worried that I’ll forget it all, I slide off the bed before digging through my handbag for a pen and a scrap of paper. Then I begin writing.
1. wedding dress
2. secure officiant
3. get Dad and Mrs. Colson here somehow
4. get marriage license
5. buy wedding rings
6. MARRY FLETCH
I stare at the list. Number six stares back at me. It’s not that I have cold feet, I don’t. It’s just that the list overwhelms me, and I probably left stuff off. But the end result is still the same, I’ll marry Fletch.
My phone rings, and thinking it may be Michael, dread knots in my gut. Still, I pick it up and immediately recognize the number. It’s my dad.
“Hey, Dad,” I say.
“Hey, Baby. Did you do it? Did you say ‘yes’?”
“I did.”
Dad lets out a whoop before saying, “Have the two of you discussed when the wedding will be?”
“Tomorrow,” I squeak. “And I want you to be here. Do you think you can get a flight out tonight or tomorrow morning?”
“Elle, I’d drive all night if it meant walking my girl down the aisle.”
I feel weird thinking this, let alone saying it, but I go ahead. “Dad, Fletch will buy your ticket. Just let me know when you want to arrive.”
Dad scoffs. “Fletch isn’t buying me anything. I’ll get online and get my ticket for tomorrow morning.”
“Okay,” I say, and then I add, “Do you think we’re doing this too soon?”
“No,” Dad says. “I’ve been expecting this moment for five years. I’m sure you have been too. And so has Fletch. Waiting won’t make it any more real or have you fall more in love. All it does is put off the inevitable.”
I consider his words for a moment. They make sense. It’s good to know Dad is in agreement with Fletch and me, because I’d hate to have it otherwise.
“You’re right,” I say. “Why put it off?”
Dad laughs. “Don’t you have some preparation to do instead of talking to your dear old dad?”
“Thanks, Dad,” I say. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I hang up, toss my phone on the bed, and stare at my list again. I don’t even know where to start. Maybe I should find Fletch, and the two of us tackle the list. I already have Dad coming, now we just have to get Mrs. Colson here.
That conversation is not going to go well. I imagine Fletch isn’t going to be treated to the same enthusiasm that I got from Dad.
My phone dings, and I pick it up. Fourteen new messages – all from work. I begin scrolling through them, answering the most urgent – the ones from my boss – and ignoring the rest. It’s a Saturday for Christ’s sake. I should be allowed to take the weekends off.
When Fletch and I are married, I’m going to be firm about no work on the weekends for both of us. Which is easier said than done, I’m sure, but I’m going to try.
I lay down on the bed, and my heart hammers hard against my chest. This can’t be real. I can’t be marrying Fletch – tomorrow. Someone’s going to wake me up from this amazing dream. Or something’s going to go very wrong.
What if Fletch gets cold feet like Sophie and runs off? What if we can’t secure the officiant? What if our marriage license doesn’t get approved?
Stop it, Ellie. Stop getting yourself worked up over nothing. Fletch wants you, and only you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have proposed – or wanted such a short engagement.
I snuggle back into my pillows, suddenly exhausted from the day’s activities.
My eyes flutter shut, my brain turns off, and I drift off to sleep.
Chapter Eighteen
Paige bursts into my room, squeals, and beelines for me. "Are you really going to do it? Are you really going to marry Fletch?"
I rub the sleep from my eyes. "That's the plan. We’re getting married tomorrow."
“Tomorrow! You two are crazy.”
“In love,” I add. I’m trying to be funny but Paige isn’t having it.
“If you’re getting married tomorrow, you can’t be laying around taking naps. You need to be up,” She yanks at my hand, but I resist. “And doing things. Because I simply can’t do it all by myself.”
“By yourself?” I shoot my eyebrows up.
“Of course. I’m your honorary bridesmaid.” She twitches her nose. “Unless you want Calista for that role.”
“No thank you.”
“I didn’t think so.” She lifts my hand and screws up her face. "Where's the ring?"
"To be purchased," I answer, rolling over.
"Well that hardly seems right. Tell me you at least have wedding bands."
"Not yet," I answer. “Everything is moving so fast. I don’t even have a gown.”
This time, Paige pulls me up and throws her arms around me. "Isn't this the most exciting thing?"
I grin. “
It is pretty exciting. And scary, too.”
Paige cocks her head and studies me briefly. "Does this mean you're moving back to San Francisco, or is Fletch moving to Boston?"
"I…I don't know," I answer. "We haven't discussed that part."
She shrugs. "Well, I'm sure you'll work it all out."
Didn’t Brady and I have a similar conversation yesterday about him and Sophie? She wanted Paris; he wanted the East Coast. Is that part of what doomed them?
"You should go to San Francisco," Paige says. "You hate your job. Maybe a change of scenery would be good for you."
My eyes pop open. "Are you saying I should be financially dependent on Fletch?"
She shakes her head. "No. I'm saying you could launch a new career out there - with or without Fletch's help."
What she says makes sense. I do hate my job. And San Francisco is brimming with tech companies, which is my specialty.
"We'll have to talk about it," I say, but I know in my gut Paige is right.
"Okay, now that we have all of that squared away, we need to make some wedding preparations." Paige eyes me from head-to-toe. "What do you plan on wearing?"
"I have the formal dress I brought for Brady's wedding, but I don’t know."
"Let me see it," Paige says.
I retrieve the dress from the closet. It's a dark midnight blue with sequins over the bust and sprinkled down the skirt.
Paige squishes up her nose. "No. That won't do. It’s almost black, and that’s bad luck.” She smiles at me. “We need to go shopping."
"Do we have time?" I ask. “Fletch and I still need to get the marriage license this afternoon.”
Paige flips out her phone and types in something. "Okay, town hall closes at four. That gives us three-and-a-half hours to get a dress and do prep for tomorrow." She arches an eyebrow at me. "Totally do-able."
"I'm seriously questioning whether we can throw a wedding together this fast," I say.
Paige places a finger over my mouth. "Shhh, you. I've got this covered."
She jumps up and down while clapping her hands. "Let's go," she says, yanking on my arm. "We can't let Fletch see you."
"You do know that I've seen him today, and today isn’t the day of the wedding?"
"I know."
Her enthusiasm is contagious, and we tumble down the stairs like two schoolgirls on a mission. There's a car under the portico, waiting for us.