Ms. Callahan closes the binder and smiles at me, “Carla has always hated that Riley tries to protect her. He was protective before their father died. And then after Joe passed away, Riley took his over-protectiveness to a new high. It drives Carla up a wall.”
“I think it’s sweet what Riley did. Sure, it could have been under better circumstances with them not throwing drunken punches in a strip club and all. It’s just. . . he stood up for her and that’s really admirable.”
Ms. Callahan raises an eyebrow, “Are you paying my son a compliment? Jess, are you feeling okay?”
I laugh, hoping that my blushing isn’t too obvious. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve just never had anyone stand up for me in that way. It’s sweet.”
“Riley always knew better than to protect you out loud. He could boss Carla around because he’s her big brother. He knew he couldn’t pull that with you. Riley has always been so careful with you.”
I raise an eyebrow, “Careful? He pushed me out of a tree house, got me banned from the Home Depot. . .” He may have also filled me with false hopes of having sex this morning, but it’s probably best not to mention that to his mother.
Ms. Callahan rolls her eyes and gets up from the table. She fills a mug full of coffee as she talks, “Riley corrected Carla on her mistakes, or stopped her from doing them altogether. With you, though, he could only watch you. It broke his heart when you started dating that boy you went to prom with. Riley hated that boy and said he didn’t trust him.” Ms. Callahan smiles, “I still think it was more than just Riley’s over-protectiveness talking.”
I smile too. I know that it was more than just Riley’s over-protectiveness talking.
Before I get a chance to say anything, Carla and Evan reappear in the kitchen. The ice pack is nowhere to be seen and, really, Evan’s eye doesn’t look that bad. I mean, I didn’t think Riley could punch that hard, but I expected Evan’s eye to be at least a little black. Which, it’s a good thing he doesn’t have a black eye. No one wants the groom to have a shiner in the wedding pictures.
“I overreacted.” Carla mumbles, her eyes on the floor. “Evan said that he was a jerk and Riley punching him was just what he needed.” She looks up, eyeing Evan with an amused look, “And even though Evan won’t tell me what prompted Riley to hit him, I can trust that it was well deserved.”
“Good for you, sweetie.” Ms. Callahan says sarcastically as she picks up her purse. “Now that I know you won’t cause your brother any bodily harm, I’m going to run to the shop to make sure that the summer help don’t kill each other.” She hugs Carla, “Now, I’ll be back at one for the bachelorette party.” She also gives Evan a quick hug and laughs, “Please try not to get punched in the face again.”
Evan smirks, “I can’t make any promises.”
I go to open the door for her, but before she leaves, she gives me a hug too and whispers in my ear, “Tell Riley to not unzip your dresses so fast. The material isn’t nearly strong enough.” She gives me a wink and closes the door.
Oh. My. God.
***
“I hear you and my grandma had a nice little chat today.” Riley laughs as he follows me down the salad bar line. Not that I’m eating salad or anything (if God wanted me to eat lettuce, He would have turned me into a rabbit), but this is where they keep the pineapple.
I point the pineapple tongs at him, “Your grandmother is an evil, evil woman. I’ve finally learned where you got it from.”
That bachelorette party was one of the worst things that has ever occurred. And not just in my life.
I fully blame my mother. She was the one who felt it necessary to ask me if I was going to the wedding with Riley. I swear, it was just like a scene from a movie: the room, which had been full of chatter, immediately quieted down. My mom, Ms. Callahan, and Carla just looked amused by my terrified face. The other guests, who were mostly family members of Carla’s, were all looking at me, probably sizing me up and wondering why in the hell their nephew/cousin/grandson would want to go with me anywhere.
“Yeah, we’re going to the wedding together.”
And, if that wasn’t enough fuel, my mom had the audacity to make mention that Riley and I were sharing the house and that going to the wedding with each other makes “living together a little more honest.”
Seriously, my mom said that. I really thought that she was trying to give Riley and Carla’s grandma a heart attack. At the time, I was really concerned about the grandmother, who was a little bit drunk, yes, but also making the sign of the cross while my mother spoke. I couldn’t imagine how that sweet little old lady would react to finding out that Carla is knocked up.
“That whore is dating my grandson?”
You know you reach a really low, grisly point in your life when you feel no remorse over wanting to kill an eighty-year-old woman.
And, before anyone else could even get a word in, Grandma Callahan continued on, “Are you fucking my grandson?”
When I repeat this story to Riley in line at the salad bar, he actually giggles. Yes, I’m in love with a man who giggles.
I know. I’m not proud of myself either.
“Your grandma called me a whore.” I want to scream it out, mostly because it’s incredibly comical, but I manage to restrain myself to a whisper. Okay, a loud whisper.
Riley, completely unfazed by me, laughs harder, “I know! It’s hilarious.”
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t.” He says smugly.
Man, he’s annoying. And what’s even more annoying is that I want to kiss him. Just a quick peck, none of that PDA stuff. But I can’t even touch him right now. Unless I frog him in the arm or something. Because our families will totally judge us and freak out if we started kissing, or showed any sort of emotion beyond anger with each other.
Even though Ms. Callahan totally knows something’s up. And how is that even possible? I’m a total klutz; it’s no surprise for me to have a hole in my clothes. Where was her logic in this whole torn dress thing?
I mean, yeah, she was right on the money, but assuming that your own son is out ripping a girl’s dress is just wrong.
And definitely says something about the doubt you have in your parenting skills.
Anyway, it’s great to be in love. It just sucks that you can’t share that happiness with others since they would totally wig out about it.
Riley seems to be reading my mind and says, “You can do whatever you want to me when we get home. And no one will know what goes on behind closed doors.” He leans in to whisper, “Personally, I’m banking on blindfolds and whip cream.”
Now I do frog him in the arm. But it’s a frogging done out of love. And no one is any the wiser, not even Carla who rolls her eyes as she walks past us.
But me punching Riley in the arm is evidently enough to make her sick since she puts a hand to her mouth and starts rushing to the back of the hotel reception room.
“Maid of Honor duty calls.” I sit my plate down by the salad bar and ask Riley to tell Evan to meet me by the bathrooms before I chase after Carla. I can hear Riley chuckle as I almost fall in my heels. I manage to catch myself from hitting the floor in what I think is a very graceful fashion. Judging by the continuing laughter, not that he ever really stopped laughing over his grandma calling me a whore, I can assume that Riley did not find my arms moving like helicopter propellers in an effort to stay standing as smooth as I thought they looked.
I make it back to the bathroom shortly behind Carla, and immediately regret my decision to follow her. I do not handle vomit well. But, Carla’s more important than me being comfortable with her hurling. After several heaves, she sends me out of the bathroom, convinced that she is okay, even though I hear her mumble something very unkind about celery before gracing the porcelain gods with her presence.
I almost run into Evan as I exit the bathroom.
“How’s she doing?” He asks, rushed. He knows that this is just morning sickness, but the concern that fills his ey
es is absolutely precious. Yeah, Evan is precious. It’s weird.
“She’s worshipping the porcelain gods and damning celery to the fiery pits of Hell.”
“Sounds like a real religious experience.” Riley, who is standing behind Evan, mutters. Evan chuckles at his remark.
Man, I’m glad those two made up. They’ve actually spoken more in the past six hours then they have in the past five years that Evan and Carla have been dating. And who would have known that all it took to make that happen was a good ol’ fight at a strip club?
I point my thumb back at the restroom door, “You may want to go check on her. I can watch the door if you want.”
“No, that’s okay.” Evan winks at me, “You and Riley go enjoy the party.”
Smug bastard. I hope Carla pukes on him.
“Yeah, okay.”
“Thanks for helping, Jess.” He smiles and looks at me as if he wants to hug me. That is far too girly for him though. He chuckles and punches me in the arm before disappearing into the women’s restroom to be with his sick bride.
Boys are weird.
I stare at Riley who has just reached his hands out to me. Is he crazy? Granted the restrooms are out of sight from the room Carla rented for the rehearsal dinner, but still… anyone could just wander back here and see us, you know, happy. Besides, if anyone caught wind of what’s going on with me and Riley, the attention would be shifted away from Carla, and there’s no way in Hell that she’d ever forgive us for that.
“We can’t steal Carla’s thunder.” I explain, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I don’t want to steal Carla’s thunder. I want to do It with you.”
“Always the gentleman.” I laugh out. His hands are still in front of him and I do want to reach out and grab them. But, if I touch him, I will never want to let go of him. And a rehearsal dinner is not the place you want to be seen groping the bride’s brother.
Riley takes a step closer to me and kisses my forehead, trying to tempt me. It’s working a little bit, it’s true, but I have to stand firm on my decision.
“Callahan, I’m serious. We can’t do anything here.”
“I’ve been waiting for you for years, Jess.” Riley says before kissing the tip of my nose.
“Riley,” I can feel my resistance ebbing, “your family is just in the other room.”
He smiles, clearly seeing that he’s about to win, “And we’re in a hotel. We can have our very own private room.” He kisses my cheek, “With a Jacuzzi, if you want.”
“You make a good argument, Callahan.” I smile up at him. He leans his head down toward mine but before his lips land on mine, the bathroom door jerks open. I push Riley away from me quickly and turn to look at Carla and Evan. Both their normally tanned faces are a little paler than usual.
“That was like The Exorcist.” Evan mumbles, staring straight ahead. “Just like The Exorcist.”
“Just remember that this is your demon seed causing it.” Carla snaps at him before turning toward us, “What are you two doing out here still?”
“Nothing. Just making sure you were okay.” I blurt out quickly, my cheeks turning red.
“That’s so sweet. Thanks you guys.” Carla says in a sweet voice and. .. yep, she’s crying a little bit. Pregnancy hormones do nothing for this girl. She wipes at her eyes and takes a breath, “I think I want to go home.”
“I’ll take you.” Evan says in a soft voice, clearly afraid to cause another mood swing.
Carla shakes her head, “No. I don’t want you to see me after the rehearsal dinner. It’s bad luck. Jess’ll take me home.”
I can’t help it; I whimper. Doesn’t she know that I’m about to go have crazy hotel sex with her brother? But, I’m the Maid of Honor and the bride is pregnant and scary so I won’t argue with her about it.
She and Evan go back into the reception area to say goodbye to everyone and I just fall back into Riley, who puts his arms around me and kisses my hair.
And I whimper again.
“I’ll see you tonight when you come home.”
“I am home, right here.” I turn my head to look up at him and smile. He rolls his eyes at my cheesiness. “But I’m staying at Carla’s tonight.”
Riley’s smile falls quickly as he puts on the biggest frown and puppy dog eyes that I have ever seen.
“Do you really think that’s going to work?” It is a little convincing, I won’t lie. I just can’t let him know that.
The clanking of Carla’s high heels coming down the hall causes Riley to lean away from me, and I mumble a profanity. Why couldn’t Riley have been an only child? I mean, I love Carla like a sister and all, but come on!
“You ready?” Carla asks me as she loops an arm through the straps on her purse.
I look at Riley sadly and nod, “You have no idea.”
***
“I can’t believe tomorrow is my wedding day.”
She’s been saying this since we left the rehearsal dinner and I’ve run out of comments to make about it so I just nod sleepily.
“It’s going to be a good day.” She reassures herself and I nod again. “Everything is in order, you’re in love with my brother, and I think that the weather is going to cooperate.”
“Wait.” I raise my head up from the couch where I’ve decided to crash for the night. “What was that part in the middle?”
“You and my brother. You’re in love with him.” She says calmly as she flips through a book of baby names, but I see her sneak a glance at me.
I don’t even try to lie to her. I can’t right now. I’m too happy.
Plus, I think if I lie to her right now about anything, she would kill me.
“It’s true.”
Carla rolls her eyes, “Well, of course it’s true. We’ve all known about it for ages.” She smiles at me, happy for my discovery, “When did you find out?”
“When I was arguing with Annie about her novel. She kept denying that it was my life, if I lived in nineteenth century England, that is. And she had Bess realize that she was in love with Mr. Tiley and it dawned on me that I love Riley, and I’m pretty sure that I always have.”
“That hag.” Carla mutters under her breath.
“What?” Please tell me that wasn’t Carla’s response to my happy little story?
“That old mattress broke the pact.”
“Pact?”
Carla is on her feet now, pacing in front of me, “It clearly states in the rules that we are not allowed to influence you or Riley in any way, shape, or form. It’s supposed to happen naturally.”
“What in the hell are you talking about?”
“I cannot believe that nympho cheated.”
Okay, so evidently I’m invisible. Which happens to be a superpower that I’ve always thought would be cool to have.
“I wonder. . .” Carla disappears out of the living room. Thinking it best to stay out of her way, not that she would acknowledge me if I did get in her way, I sit on the couch and stare at the television while Carla is in her bedroom, digging through drawers then slamming them shut. She is clearly on a mission and I do not want to get in the way.
Although I would love to know what she was talking about. What pact is so sacred that would make Carla call Annie a nympho if she broke the rules?
I mean, yeah, Annie is a total nympho, but still… it’s not nice to call someone that.
By the time I conclude that Carla is crazy and am invested in a rerun of The Nanny, Carla reappears in the room with a stuffed envelope. She plops down next to me on the couch and pulls out the contents of the envelope. Money spills out all over the couch cushions. Working in a bank, I conclude quickly that there’s easily four hundred dollars sitting on our fifty dollar couch.
“Carla, what is going on?”
But Carla is still not listening to me. She’s looking at the few pages of yellow legal paper that came from the envelope. It isn’t long before she grins.
“The old tramp didn’t win after all.
Her month was June and since neither you nor Riley confessed your undying love for one another to one another that month, but in July, that means that,” she runs her finger down the piece of paper and frowns, “I didn’t win.”
“Wait a second, Carla. . . you and Annie had a bet as to when I would fall in love with Riley?”
“No, of course not.” Carla laughs, “There are way more people involved in this bet than me and that old slut.”
I just glare at her.
“And the bet isn’t based on when you would fall in love with Riley. It’s when you and Riley make it known to each other that you’re all in love and stuff.” She turns the piece of paper she’s looking at over, “Now, if you guys have sex this month, then I will win one of the bets.”
“There’s more than one set of bets? And one of them is about when I’m going to do It with your brother?!”
Carla looks at me now, not at all concerned that my eyes are bugging out of my head or that the vein in my forehead is throbbing at a frantic rate.
“Who all placed bets on me?” I manage to get out between clenched teeth.
“Just a couple of people.” She says innocently as she realizes that I don’t find this at all funny.
I yank the pages away from her and look over the list. Ms. Callahan, my dad, my mom - my own mother actually placed a bet on when I would have sex with her next door neighbor’s son? So much for that ‘Mother of the Year’ award – Carla, Evan, Annie, the mailman, two of Riley’s uncles, my cousin Jaime (and all this time I thought that she was the one member of my family that was normal, aside from the whole ‘driving a charter bus full of old people around the country for a career’ thing), my forever sauced great aunt Milly, the woman at the bank who works the teller window (how does she know about this?), and Matt.
“What was the deal with Matt then? Why were you trying to set me up with him?”
“To move things along with you and Riley. Matt’s so nice that I knew you wouldn’t like him, and I knew that trying to set you up with him would make Riley jealous. It was for your own good.”
I somehow keep myself from growling at her.
Always the Last to Know (Always the Bridesmaid) Page 17