by Jean Oram
She chuckled out loud. Oz had always promised that nothing major would happen if she got it wrong, but she still couldn't summon the courage to fix it herself. She always imagined big explosions and electrocution if she crossed some wires.
Oz leapt down the front steps, holding up a part. "Knew I had one!"
Beth tucked her hands inside her coat sleeves and tried not to move so the cold air couldn't creep in.
Oz set to work unscrewing the new plug so it opened in half. He took her car's exposed block heater wires and slipped them into place, clamping them down to keep them secure in the new plug.
"You make it look so easy," she said, trying not to let her teeth chatter. She tugged up the hood of her coat and warmth finally closed in.
Oz explained what he was doing and how to tell the wires apart. "Next time you can do it yourself."
"That's what I keep telling myself."
He chuckled. "Maybe you should start unplugging your car before you drive away?" He looked up at her, a twinkle in his eye. She smiled back at the familiarity. This was such a déjà vu moment. Her watching him fixing her car. Her promising to do better next time. Him teasing her. Only this time he wouldn't ruffle her hair, sling an arm around her shoulder and lead her back to the house with a kiss so they could enjoy a cup of hot chocolate and talk about their day.
She let out a mournful sounding sigh and, embarrassed, cleared her throat and looked down the street instead of at Oz.
"There you go. Good as new." Oz gave the new plug an experimental tug to ensure it was on firmly. "Do you have your winter emergency kit?"
"In my trunk, thanks." She shuffled in the area of packed down snow she'd created while watching Oz. Now what? She didn't feel as though she could just bolt back to the condo, but she didn't have anything to say and she most certainly wasn't heading inside.
Oz reached behind him and pulled an envelope out of his back pocket. He passed it to her. She fingered the thin package, immediately wishing she'd given up sooner in her quest for a truck to help out Katie. She cleared her throat. "What's this?"
Oz stepped back and ran a hand through his hair, making it spike in the front, snow falling onto his shoulders, joining saw dust. Saw dust? Well, she'd heard rumors he was making a racket in the back shed fixing up loose chair legs for his mom. She sighed, hoping all his helping out other people wasn't keeping him from finding himself.
"I got an offer on Dad's business. I took it. That's your share of our mutual fund we were saving for our... that we were saving. And the equity." He tipped his head toward their old place.
He looked bashful and ashamed, and she fought the urge to slide into his arms to make it better. To make it them against the world. Consciously, she stepped back. She'd cultivate something like that with Nash. Right now she needed to stay away from Oz. Possibly forever.
"I'm sorry I kept you in money problems for so long. But I suppose that won't be an issue once you marry—" he broke off and cleared his throat.
"Right," she whispered. She caught his eye. "You sold the business though? Really?"
"Yeah. I talked to my dad and while I don't think he understood my decision, I'm free to start a new career."
"That's... well, that's unexpected. It's good. I'm happy for you." She closed her eyes briefly. He was moving on now. Now that she was taken. Not while she had been waiting, but now. She sighed and tried not to wallow under a severe sense of loss.
"How's your job going? I've heard your outreach is doing really well. You already help so many people. It's great. What you're doing."
She gave a small smile. "Thanks." She fingered the envelope and glanced at Oz. He was staring at her, hands in the pockets of his jeans. "What are you going to do?"
Wait. Oz was wearing jeans. Not sweats.
She took a closer peek, trying not to be obvious. They were his old 501s with the tiny hole near the knee from one of his Fluffy rescues. Not only that, they seemed to be buttoned all the way up. He hadn't been in jeans in forever. And, dear Lord, they still looked incredibly sexy hugging his thighs.
"Tonight?" he asked, stamping his feet.
"I'm sorry. You're cold. I should go." She turned her body towards her car, her eyes still on Oz's lower half.
"I'm fine," he said quickly.
Beth snapped her eyes from his jeans, collecting herself. "What are you doing with your money? Your life?"
What was she doing? What was she thinking? She couldn't—shouldn't be looking him over like this. And what did she care what he did with his life? What business was it of hers?
"My life?" he asked. He scratched the back of his head and gazed toward the horizon. "I'm not sure, but I feel ready to make some changes. I have ideas. But I'm still deciding."
Of course. A lightheaded sensation swept through her as anger rode in on murky waves. What was it with him that made her keep thinking she was a part of his life? Why did she keep thinking he would tell her about his secrets, dreams, and plans? That he would let her in to see who this mysterious, secret Oz really was?
"Great." She reached to open her car door. She remembered the envelope in her hand and gave it a wave. "Oh, um? You want to arrange to get my name off the mortgage then?"
Oz stumbled back like he'd been shoved. "Oh. Right," he said quickly, looking panicked.
"What?"
"Nothing." He looked down at the snow, swallowing hard. "I'll get the papers." He met her eye. "Is this the end?"
Her lips trembled. She bit down on them and slid into her car. She whispered, "The end was a long time ago, Oz."
Chapter 16
Beth stood still as Wanda placed the last pin in her bridesmaid's dress. Wanda spun her around and said, "There, how does that feel?"
"Pretty good." Beth twisted back and forth to admire herself in the mirror. Not bad for a bridesmaid. There was a reason Wanda's Wedding Store, even though being half way to the middle of nowhere, drew people from hours away. "What do you think, Cynthia?"
Cynthia, pale and nervous, inspected the newly pinned seams and hem. She fluffed out the lavender skirt. "That's much better, Wanda." She fiddled with the straps on Beth's bra, tucking them under the dress as Beth smacked her hand away. "You're not wearing that bra, are you? It's awful."
"I'll grab more pins," Wanda said, giving Beth's chest a frown. "Don't move."
Beth checked her chest in the mirror, on the lookout for drooping, sagging, boob-escapism, and other bad breast behaviors. Seeing none, she rolled her eyes. "You guys are so fussy." Desperate to change the subject, she asked, "So? Are you getting excited?"
Cynthia sucked in a sudden breath, her face blanching even more. "There is SO much to do. I have three weeks and so many details that still need to be taken care of."
Beth shifted, watching how the long-sleeved dress moved with her. "Don't worry about it. It'll all work out."
Cynthia gave her a look. "Don't say anything you don't want me saying to you in a month or two. I've had since summer to plan my wedding. You have a mere three months until yours."
Beth looked at their reflections in the fitting area's wall-length mirror. Cynthia, slimmer than usual, was fussing around in the store's robe, one of Wanda's girls adjusting a dart on her dress while she waited. Katie was against the back wall, sitting cross-legged in an armchair flipping through a bridal magazine.
"Okay, one of you two seriously needs to get an ice sculpture." She held up a page to show them.
Beth waved her over. "Bring it here. I can't move until Wanda returns with more pins." She glanced at the offered page. "I like the one with champagne in it."
Cynthia clucked her tongue. "You know how much that would cost? And your champagne would get all flat and watery as the sculpture melted. Think of the mess. Besides, nobody actually likes champagne."
Katie considered the picture again. "Okay, so that one's not so practical." She pointed to a sculpture of a bride and groom. "What about this one?"
"I like it," Beth said. She pulled out her pho
ne and snapped a picture to send Nash.
"Did you really just do that?" Cynthia asked.
"Do what? Ask my fiancé his opinion? Yes, I did." Beth stood proudly. "He's an awesome planner." So far she'd hardly had to worry about a thing.
"Taking over, is more like it," Katie whispered to Cynthia behind her hand. "Which explains the lack of panic. That man's a total detail freak. She's got it easy. Unlike you." She patted Cynthia's shoulder and gave her a kind smile. "If you need me to take care of anything, let me know, okay?"
Cynthia gave Katie a hug that bordered on clingy and desperate.
"Um. Me too, of course. Again," Beth added. God, if wedding planning was making her sister—who always had it together—come undone, what hope did she have? She didn't even have a dress. And yes, Nash was taking care of a majority of the details, but there was still so much to do and they had way less time than Cynthia'd had.
Katie pried Cynthia off of her and sent her to try on the new adjustments before getting dressed so they could continue shopping. "So?" she asked Beth. "Do you have your gown yet?"
Beth shook her head as Wanda added two pins to her dress.
"Don't move," Wanda warned.
Katie's eyes widened. "Have you narrowed it down?"
Beth shrugged and let Wanda unzip the back of her dress as Katie held up the robe for her to slip into. "Not yet."
"Ohmigod. Beth!" Katie squawked.
"What?"
"You're getting married in, like, April! What if you have to order something?"
Beth and Wanda exchanged a look.
"Well..." Beth said slowly. She led Katie to the main room where Wanda had the wedding gowns.
As if drawn by a magnet, her eyes settled on the featured gown of the month, its layered tulle barely fenced in by the ample display case. Spotlights highlighted the bodice piping, flecks of mother of pearl, and every dream Beth had ever had of her wedding day.
"No," Katie said firmly. "You can't wear that."
"Why?" Guilt warmed Beth's face.
"That dress has always centered around Oz-filled fantasies. You need a dress to center around Nash."
"Seriously?" Beth cast a glance around the shop.
"Yes. Seriously. You need new energy. Everything must be as different as the groom."
Realization hit Beth like a sugar rush. Head spinning, she sunk into a nearby chair. She was going to relive the excitement of trying on wedding gowns in her all-time favorite store. Today. All day. With her sister and best friend. "No wonder people bother getting remarried," Beth said with a smile.
Katie zeroed in on her. "Wanda, come help. This girl is a sinking ship and doesn't even know it." She grabbed two dresses and pushed them into Beth's arms. "These two would be good for your build." Katie headed toward the racks of designer gowns. "Nash can afford designer, right? Hell, he'll probably insist," she said as an afterthought. "You should pick a classy dress us small town girls will drool over, but can't afford. Turn us green."
"I'm putting you in charge of narrowing down the bridesmaid dresses," Beth called as she headed toward the most elaborate gown in a hundred mile radius. She set Katie's picks aside as she stroked a beaded gown. They barely even had a guest list. They had the hall booked and a date set and were working on a color scheme. They were going to have to move head-spinningly fast to make up for lost time.
Beth sucked in a deep breath. She was marrying Nash. A solid, wonderful man whom she loved. He was organizing so many of the details and had lists upon lists already on the go. She didn't need to worry, things were under control. Right now all she had to do was choose a dress. When she got back to the condo she would figure out how to be more involved so the whole thing felt less scary.
She pushed the heavy gown aside and flipped through the rest of the rack, moving around gushing women. She pulled in a deep breath. All she had to do was pick a gown. Nash would prevent her from morphing into Cynthia. They could do this. Together they could do this; that's all she had to remember. She was part of team Bethlehem.
Dear Lord. Was she going to have to act modern and keep her maiden name?
"Beth," Katie called. "I have the bridesmaid gown, pending your approval."
Wanda held out Katie's choice.
"That," Beth said, walking over to touch the dress, "is gorgeous!" She glanced at the tag and felt her eyebrows land somewhere near her hairline. Was Katie assuming Nash would shell out for designer bridesmaid dresses? It seemed as though everything she should be in charge of was being outsourced. Why it was relaxing, in some ways it was starting to feel like the wedding wasn't hers. What if she chose the wrong dress? What if she looked out of place at her own wedding?
She snatched the beaded wedding gown as well as Katie's picks and fled to the change room. She could always return the dress if it didn't fit with his scheme.
Cynthia, dressed in jeans and a sweater, slid into the dressing room with Beth. "What's wrong?" she asked quietly.
Beth moaned, "The wedding doesn't feel like mine." She caught sight of her pale reflection and sucked in a deep breath and blurted, "And I can't not love Oz. Every time he does something stupid or pushes me away, I think, Well, that's it. I'm over him now. I can't possibly love him anymore."
Beth slipped to the floor and her sister crouched beside her.
Beth continued, eyes covered, her voice soft and wobbly, "It's like when it rains and the water table rises and the basement floods. You sponge up every last bit of water and go upstairs, figuring you have it licked. Later you go back, and there it all is again. It's seeped back in." She let out a shuddery breath. "Every time I turn around, Oz has seeped back in."
"Well," Cynthia said with a gusty sigh. "That's kind of heavy."
Beth sniffed and wiped her eyes, looking at her sister for answers.
Cynthia wrapped an arm around her. "This might be one you have to solve on your own, kiddo. But whatever you do, you need to choose one over the other and get closure so you can move on."
Beth's voice raised in pitch, "I'm supposed to be getting married. I can't love two men."
They both sat silently, listening to the swish of material in the adjoining rooms. One girl said firmly, "This is the one."
Beth sighed, resisting the urge to ask through the wall: How do you know? How do you ever know?
***
Beth stood at the back of the church, shifting from foot to foot, waiting to walk down the aisle. Oz, in all his handsome glory, was in position at the front of the church. Tuxedo, haircut, and a close shave had transformed him back into the Oz that made her heart go pitty-pat. The Oz who was currently nudging her body into discarding the memo stating he was persona non grata.
She sucked in a nervous breath, her bridesmaid bouquet trembling in her grip. She inhaled its soft scent and tried to relax.
Damn that nasty stomach bug that took down Nash. She couldn't believe there were some things that had to be ridden out, M.D. or not. It was Valentine's Day for crying out loud! He was supposed to be stuck to her. And he was supposed to be the buffer between her and her mixed-up feelings.
Hearing her cue, Beth hoisted her bouquet and began marching down the aisle.
Oh God, she couldn't help but look at Oz standing behind Dan with the other groomsmen.
Oz was tall, handsome, and delicious.
Oh God, now she couldn't look away. And she couldn't breathe right. She squeezed her eyes shut and shoved down the hurricane of anticipation that was storming her body. She was not walking toward Oz. She was not getting married today.
They had not chosen each other.
But what if they had? He was like he used to be. His hands strong and capable. Fixing her car problems and so much more. That sweet smile was back and so much more.
What was she thinking? She had Nash. Oz had rejected her. Why couldn't she get it through her head?
Using every ounce of determination she could wheedle and whine from her preoccupied mind, she pried her thoughts away from Oz. Oz waiting
for her to walk down the aisle. Toward him.
She risked opening her eyes. They flew to Oz who smiled. It felt right, walking toward him. The flowers. Feeling beautiful. His smile, like they were the only two in the church.
Stop it! Stop thinking!
And stop smiling, dammit.
All she had to do was walk. No thoughts. No emotions. Nothing. Just move her feet.
She marched up the steps to where Dan and his men were waiting. She placed herself in position, ignoring the familiar, shadowy form on the other side of the groom. She swore she could smell Oz. Musky. Manly. Familiar.
The music changed and Cynthia glided down the aisle on the arm of a grinning Gran. Beth fingered the wedding band tied in her bouquet. Her eyes drifted to Oz.
No.
This was about her sister. She had a job to do and that was all. Smile, hand over the ring, sign as a witness, march out. No looking at the men. Eyes on Cynthia.
Gran released Cynthia and the ceremony began.
What if she had to pose with Oz during the photos? What if he was wearing his heavenly cologne? Of course he was wearing his cologne. It was for special occasions. She gave herself a mental smack. She needed to get a grip. She was promised to Nash. She would never risk that. Ever. He was her choice. Her new love. Her eyes drifted to Oz who was absorbing the vows. Beth's breathing went funny as she took in Oz's tender expression.
She closed her eyes, unwanted tears floating through her coated lashes. Tuning out everything, she worked on regaining control of her emotions. A rough nudge knocked her off balance. Eyes springing open, she stepped forward, practically flinging her bouquet at her sister. The audience giggled and with shaking fingers Beth snatched back her bouquet and freed the wedding band.
The couple tenderly exchanged rings as Oz dabbed at his eyes, unshed tears blurring Beth's.
Today wasn't going to be easy.
***
After calling Nash, who was still too ill to get out of bed and come rescue her, Beth mentally prepared herself for the most Oz-interactive part of the wedding: the reception. The photos had been a non-event, but the reception... she was half excited as well as half terrified.