Diary of a Single Wedding Planner (Tales Behind the Veils Book 1)

by Howe, Violet

  I laughed at him as I tasted the sandwich and found I wasn’t impressed.

  “I think since moving to Florida, I’ve become quite the Cuban Sandwich Connoisseur,” I said. “Like, I should be deemed a judge or at least be consulted on such important decisions and declarations. No one asked me, though. I proclaim this to be quite an ordinary Cuban sandwich.”

  “I know, right? Can we protest?” Cabe asked. “We need to start a campaign for a re-vote.” He finished off his sandwich with a flourish and motioned toward the funnel cake and fried Oreos.

  “No, no, no,” I said. “There are Oreos, and there are fried foods. To combine the two is like an oxymoron or something. They can’t be in the same sentence. No grease on my Oreos.”

  “My dear, Oreos are pretty much made of lard. You realize that, right?” Cabe asked.

  “So then there’s no need to add grease, is there? An Oreo in itself is fat enough. I will go for a funnel cake, though.”

  We had just stepped in line for a funnel cake when my phone rang. I recognized the area code and knew it was him.

  “Excuse me a minute. Go ahead and get a funnel cake and we’ll split it,” I told Cabe as I stepped out of line and away from the crowd.

  “Well, hello darlin’,” he said. I smiled in spite of myself. Ridiculous, I know. I didn’t care, though. I wanted to talk to Dwayne.

  “Hey you,” I responded.

  “What you up to?”

  “I’m at a Food Truck Festival.”

  “A what? Food truck? What the hell is a food truck?” Dwayne asked.

  I noticed Cabe staring at me from his place in the funnel cake line. I turned so I didn’t have to see him.

  “It’s what it says it is. A truck that serves food,” I said with a chuckle.

  “Why would you order food cooked in a truck? Don’t they have restaurants down there?”

  I laughed, the nervous energy within me releasing louder than I intended. “They are restaurants. They drive around and cook inside the truck.”

  “That sounds disgusting. What do you eat?”

  “I had a lobster roll and . . .”

  “Lobster? From a truck? Girl, ain’t you got better sense than that? You can’t eat lobster off a truck. You’re gonna get sick.”

  “No, no. It’s good, I swear,” I said.

  Cabe startled me with a tap on the shoulder and a funnel cake tantalizingly waved under my nose.

  “Oh! I gotta go. There’s a funnel cake here with my name on it!” I laughed again, not because anything was funny but because I felt very nervous. Nervous about talking to Dwayne when I probably shouldn’t be. Nervous that Cabe would ask who was on the phone, and I knew I had to tell him. He wouldn’t be pleased.

  “Well, alright. I just thought I’d say hey. You enjoy your lobster from a truck,” Dwayne said.

  “I already had the lobster. I’m eating a funnel cake now.”

  Cabe cocked his head to the side, his eyebrow lifted. I looked away.

  “You take care, darlin’. Don’t get sick,” Dwayne said.

  “I won’t. Talk to you later!” I winced slightly as I hung up, thinking maybe I shouldn’t have said that.

  “Well, I sure don’t need to ask who you were talking to.” Cabe rolled his eyes and snapped the napkin out from under the plate.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, knowing I was busted.

  “Your Southern accent is dripping more sugar than this funnel cake, and you look like a sixteen-year-old who just met her favorite boy band singer. You’re all giggly and drooling and shit.”

  “I am not drooling,” I said. Although I could feel myself blushing, self-conscious under his scrutiny.

  “Whatever,” Cabe said. “I don’t know what the hell you’re doing, Ty. He’s bad news.”

  “You don’t even know him!” I protested.

  “No, you’re right, I don’t.” He lifted his hands and shrugged. “I only know I met a girl in a coffee shop who always looked like she’d just been kicked. I held her hair out of her face I don’t know how many nights while she cried and puked from drinking her way past what he had done to her. I know I watched her turn down pretty much every single guy who ever looked her way because of this jerk. That’s what I know. That, and there’s no way he deserves the chance to hurt you again. He shouldn’t even get the chance to talk to you, much less make your face light up like it’s Christmas. I just don’t know why you would even give him the time of day. Why would you even talk to him? Much less be happy about it.”

  Cabe turned and walked away from me as I stood there stunned by his outburst.

  Embarrassment and outrage battled within me. What he said rang true, after all. Cabe was essentially defending me, his opinion of Dwayne based on what I had told him.

  But Dwayne had a lot of good qualities, too. He wasn’t a bad guy. He wasn’t even a bad boyfriend. He just made a really bad choice. (Wait, am I to a point now where I’m defending Dwayne? That’s messed up.)

  Whether he spoke truth or not, though, his efforts to police my actions made me defiantly indignant. He wasn’t my dad, after all. He couldn’t tell me who I could or couldn’t talk to. My decisions were mine to make, whether they were good decisions or not. I stormed after Cabe, anger being easier to channel than shame.

  I was angry at him for calling me out. Probably angry at him for being right as well.

  And despite enjoying the phone call, I was still pissed at Dwayne. Just because, well, just because of all the obvious reasons to be pissed at Dwayne. Although none of those seemed to keep me from wanting him to call and feeling good when he did.

  Which, of course, made me mad at myself. I knew Cabe was right. I had no business engaging with Dwayne. Pride alone should have kept me from it. I just wanted to feel the way I used to. To go back in time, if even for a brief moment.

  Cabe stopped at the end of the food truck row and turned back to wait for me. He put up his hand to stop me before I could say anything.

  “I’m sorry, Ty. You’re a grown woman. You can talk to whomever you want. It just seriously burns me up for this guy to think he can . . . you know what, never mind. It’s your life. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” He turned and walked away again, and I followed him in silence. I didn’t want to see me hurt either. I wanted to be happy. I couldn’t help that Dwayne’s voice made me happy right now.

  I tried to watch television when I got home. I tried checking e-mail. Then I tried to read a magazine. I even took a shower and thought about going to bed early. Get some sleep for a change. But I couldn’t. I can only imagine how hard it is for an addict to stay away from their addiction, because try as I might, I could not keep myself from picking up the phone and dialing Dwayne Davis.

  We talked for over two hours, covering everything from coaching his daughter’s tee-ball team to the time the cops pulled up behind us as we were “parking” out behind his uncle’s barn.

  I dreaded looking at the clock, but he and I both had to be at work early. So I finally said, “Well, I guess we better get off here.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. I sure don’t want to, though. I feel better talking to you than I’ve felt in years. I feel alive again,” Dwayne said. Unfortunately, I knew exactly what he meant. We were silent again for a while, trying to prolong the inevitable, but eventually we said good night. What the hell am I doing?

  Friday, December 6th

  Dwayne called a little before noon.

  “Hey,” I said, smiling.

  “I want to see you,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Come see me. I’ll start driving and meet you halfway.”

  I inhaled and held it. My stomach rolled, but I can’t say if it was excitement or nausea. Or both. It was one thing to talk to Dwayne on the phone, hours away and safely not in my life. Seeing him in person seemed totally different. I wondered what he looked like after all this time. I wondered if I would still find him attractive. I was all at once certain I didn’t want to see hi
m and yet intrigued by what it would be like.

  “I can’t do that, Silly. I have stuff to do,” I said while mentally going through my calendar to figure out if I could.

  “Sure you can. We can meet in the middle, eat dinner, visit a while, and you can head back home and do your stuff.”

  “Dwayne, halfway is like three and a half hours. It’s seven hours round trip.”

  “I know, but you only live once, right? Come on, girl. Come see me.”

  “I can’t. I gotta work,” I said, even as my brain plotted. Laura needed my help with a wedding Saturday, but I had no wedding of my own this weekend and no rehearsal tonight. Cabe and I had talked about seeing a movie, but we hadn’t made any firm plans yet. This was actually a rare Friday night when I could take a road trip if I wanted to. I sort of wanted to.

  “So let’s meet later tonight. After you’re done with work,” he said.

  I wavered. Seven hours of driving. Blech. Especially on a Friday night off coming out of busy October and November. Chilling with Cabe at a movie sounded much more relaxing. Curiosity was killing me, though. I hadn’t seen Dwayne Davis in five years. I’d been going back and forth in my head for days between being excited to talk to him and never wanting to talk to him again. What would I feel if I actually saw him? The thought occurred to me that maybe then I would know. Maybe if I saw Dwayne, I would know once and for all if I wanted to pursue this, whatever it was, or if I wanted to tell him goodbye forever.

  My heart clinched a little bit at the thought. Could I do that? Could I tell Dwayne goodbye again?

  “Hello? You still there?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I’m here. Okay, I’ll meet you. Where and what time?”

  I went to Melanie’s office as soon as we hung up.

  “Mel, I need to leave early, and I don’t really want to get into a lot of explanation about what I’m doing or where I’m going. Could you tell Laura I had something come up and I’ll be at her wedding tomorrow with no problem?”

  “Sure, but what’s up? What are you doing? Where are you going?” Mel asked.

  “Didn’t I just say I didn’t want to get into it?” I stuck my tongue out at her playfully.

  “Well, yeah, but I didn’t think that meant me. If you want me to cover for you, don’t I at least get to know what you’re doing?” Then she got all excited and clapped her hands together, “Is it something with Cabe? Are you doing something to surprise him? Are you guys going away together?”

  I felt a pang of guilt that it definitely didn’t involve Cabe. I knew I’d have to call and tell him about my road trip, and he wouldn’t be happy.

  “No, it’s not with Cabe, and I really can’t get into it right now. I’ll explain later, okay?” I didn’t want anyone to know what my plan was because I didn’t want anyone to talk me out of it.

  “Alright. Everything okay, though? Should I be worried?” Mel asked.

  “No, no. Everything’s fine. I’ll tell you all about it later.”

  I made it out of the building without seeing Laura, and I waited until I was an hour down the interstate before I called Cabe.

  “What’s up, Buttercup? What movie are we seeing?” he asked.

  “Yeah, about that. I’m not going to be able to make the movie tonight. Something came up.” I briefly toyed with the idea of lying and not telling him, but I knew I couldn’t lie to Cabe.

  “You okay?” he asked. Guilt and anxiety threatened to empty my stomach all over my car.

  “Um . . . yeah. I’m fine. I’m driving to meet Dwayne.” I paused and waited in the silence. In fact, I welcomed the silence because I didn’t want to hear what he had to say.

  “Really. Okay. How’d that come about?”

  “He asked me to drive halfway and meet him.”

  “I thought you have a wedding tomorrow,” Cabe said.

  “I do. I’m coming back tonight. I’m driving to meet him, having dinner, and coming back.”

  “Why?” Cabe asked.

  “I don’t know, Cabe. Because he asked me to? Because I want to?”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “I dunno. Because at one time he was the love of my life. My first love. He was my everything. Talking to him again has reminded me of who I used to be. I see now how much I changed when he left me. I lost who I was. I guess I can’t explain it. I just want to see him, Cabe. And he wants to see me.”

  “You do realize if his wife hadn’t left him, you wouldn’t be hearing from him at all? So it’s not like he just missed you so terribly that he simply had to get in touch with you and see you. Don’t be dumb about this, Ty.”

  His words stung, even though I expected them.

  “I’m not being dumb, Cabe. But I have to know what it will be like to see him. I think in some ways, I never really let go of him. I need to know why. I know what you’re saying is true, and I appreciate it. I thank you for worrying about me. This is something I need to do, though. To know what I feel when I see him. I think it will tell me a lot one way or another.”

  He paused for a minute and then said, “Okay, then let me go with you.”

  “What?”

  “Let me go with you. There’s no sense in you riding all that way by yourself, nervous and keyed up. If it doesn’t go well, you’re gonna be riding three hours back in a car alone. Let me go with you. I’ll sit at another table so I’m not right up under you, but I wanna meet this dude. I want him to know someone is looking out for you.”

  My heart tugged in a strong gravitational pull back toward Cabe and home. What was I doing? Why on earth was I even giving Dwayne Davis the time of day? Much less seven plus hours out of my day? Why wasn’t I heading out to a movie with Cabe? Safe. Not in danger of being hurt. This was a bad idea. Unfortunately, I was already in it and committed to it.

  “Cabe, I’m an hour and a half out of town, about halfway to where we’re meeting. Thank you, though. It means a lot that you would do that for me.”

  “Wow, so you just decided this and went for it. You weren’t even going to tell me? You didn’t want to discuss it first?” he asked.

  I bit my tongue to keep from pointing out that he came back home for months before he bothered to contact me to discuss anything.

  “It happened so quick, Cabe. He called today at work, and I made a decision. There wasn’t anything to discuss.”

  “Wasn’t there? What are you doing, Tyler? Do you want to get back together with him? To move back home and live with your mother? You going to play the part of wife number two and raise number one’s kids with him? Where do you see this going?”

  I had no answers. I hadn’t thought ahead that far.

  “I don’t know, okay? I’m going to see him. I’m not marrying him or moving home with him. I’m just meeting him for dinner.”

  “Are you going to sleep with him?” he asked.

  “Oh my God. I cannot even believe you asked me that,” I said.

  “Why not? Do you think it hasn’t crossed his mind? Hasn’t seen you in how many years? He’s been separated from his wife so he probably hasn’t been getting any action. I can speak personally for how frustrating that can be. You’re rushing off to meet him at a moment’s notice. Driving over three hours, I might add. You don’t think he’s got something on his mind?”

  “Cabe, I don’t want to argue with you. I’m going to have dinner with Dwayne, and that’s all. I’ll call you on my way back if you want.”

  “Whatever, Ty. You don’t have to answer to me. I think you’re making a mistake, but it’s your mistake to make. Call me if you need me, not because you feel like you have to.”

  He hung up, and I almost turned the car around. I really wanted to see Dwayne Davis, though. I had to do it. I had to.

  I spotted Dwayne’s large red truck as soon as I pulled into the parking lot. He stood at the back of the truck, one knee bent with his foot behind him propped on the bumper. He had on cowboy boots, of course, and Wrangler jeans. His plaid shirt had pearl button snaps, and he wo
re a tall cowboy hat slung low on his head, shading his eyes in the setting sun. It was so far removed from what I see every day that I stifled a giggle.

  He looked much skinnier than I remembered, by quite a bit. When we were in high school and college, his solid frame stayed muscular and lean, but he was a strapping guy. He seemed frail now, and I wondered if he had been ill.

  His face seemed pretty much the same, but older. More haggard than I remembered.

  I got out of the car and smoothed my skirt. I had gone home and changed into a cute little dress with a purple and orange paisley print. It was one of my favorites, cut generously in the hips with straps that crossed underneath my collarbone and went over my shoulders. Cabe always called it my hippie-chick dress. It was his favorite, too. Probably too bright for Dwayne’s tastes, but I wanted to be bright, cheerful, and confident. I finished it off with my favorite boots and my trusty denim jacket.

  I walked toward Dwayne, enjoying the slow, appreciative grin spreading across his face. Dwayne Davis. The love of my life. Right there in front of me, smiling and obviously happy to see me. I had a million flashes of that smile replaying in my head. Standing by his high school locker. Coming off the football field. Holding the hose as we washed his car. Looking up at me sitting in his lap. Lit up by the dashboard as he lay back in the driver’s seat. Sneaking in the window of my dorm room.

  He wrapped me in a big bear hug, which increased my amazement at how bony he felt. Definitely much thinner than before, no doubt about it. I had to strain to reach my arms all the way around him back then, but not now. Somehow I remembered him being taller, but he only stood an inch or two above me. Maybe being with Cabe’s towering height all the time had messed with my memory.