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

by Howe, Violet

  “Well, hello darlin’. If you ain’t a sight for sore eyes, I don’t know what is. You smell downright edible. Let me look at you.” He held me at arm’s length, looking me up and down like a prized mule. He whistled low and motioned for me to turn around. I did a little twirl in my dress like a schoolgirl playing dress-up, completely reveling in having his attention once more.

  “Damn, girl. I think you are even more beautiful than I remembered. I didn’t think that was possible. How come you ain’t just beating the boys off you with a stick?” he asked.

  I thought about Cabe and how much he’d like to beat Dwayne with a stick.

  “I don’t know.” There wasn’t much else to say.

  Dwayne took my hand, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Like we’d been holding hands only yesterday. There I was, strolling into a restaurant on Dwayne Davis’s arm and feeling like a million bucks.

  I noticed he favored his left leg with a slight limp.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Huh? Oh, that. I got into a bar fight over in Louisiana a few years ago. I went over there with my cousin to look at some horses. Don’t remember much about the fight. Just playing pool and having a good time, and next thing I know I’m in a hospital with this here leg in traction. Had a ruptured kidney, four broke ribs, black eye, broke nose.” He pointed to a spot on his nose. “See that little bump that right there? Kind of ridge-like? Yep. That’s where it broke.”

  “Damn, boy. Did you even get a swing in?”

  I hadn’t thought about bar fights in years. Not since we broke up, most likely. The people I’m around on a daily basis don’t really do the bar fight thing. I got a mental flash of Lillian in a bar fight and nearly burst out laughing.

  “Probably. Hell, you know me. Always the first one swinging. But I don’t remember a damned thing. Don’t even know who hit me. Rayford—you remember him? Uncle Ray’s oldest boy? He was in the bathroom when it happened, so he didn’t see nothing. I laid in the hospital in Louisiana for damned near a month. Out of work a long time. Lost a bunch of weight. Still got the limp.”

  “Yeah, I noticed you look a little thin.”

  “Well, I put some weight back on after all that, but this whole divorce thing tore me up. I couldn’t eat nothing until I started talking to you, darlin’. I’m starving right now.”

  We made small talk throughout the meal, catching up on relatives and news from home. No awkward pauses or long silences. It felt oddly natural, like we’d never been apart. We slipped back into phrases and sayings we once used, bits and pieces of the intimate language each couple creates together.

  I couldn’t help comparing him with Cabe, though. I don’t know why. I guess because that’s who I eat with most of the time. I noticed little things right off. Dwayne ordered first. Cabe always makes a point of asking me what I want and telling the waitress before he orders. Dwayne talked with his mouth full, which I forgot about. He also doused his steak in ketchup, which I used to do until Cabe berated me about it being an insult to the chef.

  I mean, it’s not like Dwayne acted barbaric or anything, but it was certainly different than eating with Cabe. Which is okay. Nothing wrong with that. I just noticed, that’s all.

  While Dwayne complimented me on how nice I looked and how I hadn’t changed, I kept thinking of all the ways he had changed. His eyes were still the color of melted milk chocolate, and they still twinkled with his mischievous allure. Deep lines crinkled in the corners, though. Telltale signs of aging and too many days in the sun. His hair was much shorter than I’d ever seen it, although I liked it better than the shaggy bangs that used to fall across his face. He was still a handsome man, no doubt about it. Every bit the charmer he had been. His stories kept me laughing, and his attention bolstered my confidence and made me lightheaded.

  As I listened to him talk, though, I realized I remembered him being worldlier. More in charge. When we started dating, he had traveled quite a bit with his family, who had much more money than mine. Back then, I was in awe of his knowledge of the world and of life, which surpassed my meager understanding. Now I was the one who had left the small town environment and had my own tales to offer. The role reversal felt odd, but I liked it.

  I noticed a large scar along his jawline and asked if that came from the Louisiana fight, too.

  “Nah, that was a tractor accident. I tried to unhitch a bushhog. It jammed, so I got a crowbar. When that thing broke loose, it came right up and sliced me open. Broke my jaw. Had to have the damned thing wired shut for months. That’s another reason I lost weight right there.”

  I thought about his wife and what it must have been like to be married to Dwayne all this time. After all, the life Ellain had was the one I had planned. Well, sort of. I envisioned us moving away and living in some big city somewhere. Now as I looked at him and listened to him talk about his life, I realized he never would have been happy anywhere else. Dwayne lived where he needed to be.

  I pondered what Ellain thought about his bar fights and hospital stays in another state and nursing him through tractor accidents. Was it all she thought it would be when she said ‘I do’? Obviously not, because she left, but was she happy with him for a time? They did have two kids together. Not that having kids means you’re happy, but still.

  For so long, I’d thought Ellain got something I was supposed to have. Like she took something from me. Now, sitting across from him and listening to highlights of his life since I last saw him, I didn’t feel so sure about that. Would I have been happy? Would I have been okay with him lying in a hospital bed out of work because he got in a drunken bar fight while I had two kids to feed and support? Would I have been okay with him working at his daddy’s lumber yard and farming his daddy’s land? Would that have been enough for me?

  When our meal had ended and the conversation had slowed, Dwayne walked me to my car.

  “I don’t want the night to end,” he said. “I feel like I’m with a ghost, or an angel, or both. Like life has given me a second chance to see what I missed. What a complete idiot I was. You wanna go somewhere?”

  I could see raw desire burning in his eyes, and Cabe’s warning lights flashed in my head.

  “Whaddya mean?” I asked, scared I knew the answer. I didn’t want this to be about that.

  “You know, find someplace private? We could keep talking. A little more reminiscing? Maybe a stroll down memory lane? I have some sweet memories of you and me.”

  Why did Cabe have to be right? Why couldn’t Dwayne simply want dinner and conversation?

  “I need to get back, Dwayne. I have to work in the morning.”

  “Alright, alright. I understand. Look, I just wanted to see you. You’ve made this ole boy the happiest I’ve been in a long time laying eyes on your pretty face. I ain’t asking you for nothing else, and I ain’t wanting you to feel like I’m trying to get you in the sack or something.”

  The alarm and panic must have shown on my face for him to say that.

  “Not that I’d refuse if you offered,” he laughed.

  I shook off my unease and smiled. It was Dwayne, after all. I knew him. Even after all the time that had passed and all the changes in us both. It was still Dwayne.

  “I ain’t offering.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to,” he said. “I woulda been shocked if you did, but you can’t blame a boy for trying. Just like you can’t blame me for leaning in just a little bit,” he said as he leaned in, “and pulling you a little closer,” he said as he pulled me in against him, “and trying for one little ole kiss.”

  Dwayne kissed me, and I let him. I wanted him to. I wanted to see what it would be like. I wanted to know what I would feel.

  He seemed nervous. I definitely don’t remember him ever being nervous before. But as he kissed me, I discovered I didn’t remember a whole bunch about how it went back then. I know we did an awful lot of it, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember what it felt like to kiss Dwayne. Even more maddeni
ng, the most recent kiss I received was Cabe’s, so that was what I kept thinking about and comparing it to.

  It seemed like we couldn’t get our heads at the right angle or something. No matter how our lips met, it felt awkward. Like it didn’t work somehow. Our teeth bumped together once, and his tongue ended up swiping my chin a couple of times. Just messy, sloppy, uncoordinated. Like we didn’t fit together anymore.

  It was so weird to be kissing someone and expect to like kissing them, but instead feel confusion and uncertainty. When Cabe and I kissed, I wanted it with everything in me, even though I knew I shouldn’t be kissing him. My body had surged with passion and desire, and that didn’t happen in this kiss with Dwayne. I’m sure it came from so much time passing and all that happened between us. Maybe also because we had been flung together in this bumbling dinner meeting of the memories. Somehow, I just couldn’t get into it. I thought I wanted Dwayne Davis to want me, be interested in me, and kiss me, but I couldn’t drum up a truly passionate effort to kiss him back.

  Evidently, he was oblivious to this.

  “Damn, girl. You know how to rev up a boy’s motor and get him on the start line. I had forgotten what a minx you were. I was such a fool, Tyler. Such a fool.”

  The words felt good to hear, which added more to my confusion over what I felt. Why did I want so badly for him to want me and yet not really know if I actually wanted him? I thought I would know right off the bat. Like I would see him and know immediately if this was a good thing or a bad thing. It didn’t work that way. At times, it felt like I was where I was supposed to be, transported back to old times, happier ones, where I was completely comfortable to be by his side. Other times, I felt wildly out of place. Like Dwayne was a character in a play I used to star in, but I’d left the stage and that costume behind.

  The whole night—the conversations, the laughter, the kissing, the hugging—it all felt like some surreal version of something I once knew.

  He didn’t seem to be experiencing any doubts, though.

  “When can I see you again?” Dwayne asked. “You comin’ home for Christmas?”

  I shuddered a bit. Not in a good way.

  “I don’t know, Dwayne.” His embrace suddenly felt claustrophobic, almost suffocating. I pulled away roughly and drew a deep breath.

  It was one thing to meet him here in neutral territory when no one but Cabe even knew what I was doing.

  But to go back home where our pasts were intertwined presented a completely different stress factor.

  I hadn’t been home for Christmas since the first year after I moved here.

  Dwayne cocked his head to one side and grinned at me. “Undoubtedly no one in their right mind would get married on Christmas!”

  “No, we don’t do weddings on Christmas, but I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

  “If what’s a good idea? C’mon darlin’. I just wanna see ya again. Hell, I ain’t seen you in years, and us talking again makes me remember how much fun we had. I know your mama would be thrilled to have you home for the holidays. You come home to see her, and then let this ole boy take you out to dinner again. It doesn’t have to be any big deal.”

  “I don’t know, Dwayne,” I said again.

  There was a time when Dwayne Davis standing in front of me begging me to come see him would have made my life complete. I could still feel small twinges of that overpowering attraction, the tattered remnants of first love still lingering in the recesses of my mind—despite the betrayal, the time that had passed, and the changes in my life. But while the girl I used to be was getting something she’d always wanted, the girl I’d become wasn’t sure she wanted any part of it.

  I felt dizzy and too warm. I needed air and space. I couldn’t process all I was feeling, and I didn’t want to be pushed either way. For reasons I still don’t fully understand, I wasn’t ready to completely sever ties with Dwayne, but I certainly wasn’t about to commit to going back home to see him.

  Definitely not the first time in my life I’ve seriously wished I had a therapist on call.

  Dwayne took my hand in his and lightly stroked my palm with his thumb as he raised my chin with his other hand. His chocolate eyes were almost black in the dark parking lot, and I was struck by how handsome he still was, scars and all.

  “I’ll tell you what,” he said. “Just tell me you’ll think about it. That you’ll consider comin’ home for Christmas. Okay? Just think about it,” he pleaded.

  I probably should have said no right off the bat, but my head was so jumbled that I just gave some kind of noncommittal shrug which he immediately took as an affirmative gesture.

  “Yes! Alright! You have made this country boy real happy, darlin’. You done gave me something to look forward to when I thought it would be the worst Christmas ever.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I didn’t say I was coming,” I protested, coming back to life a few seconds too late.

  “You didn’t say no, so I’ll take it,” Dwayne said. He drew me into his arms and laid another sloppy kiss on me before letting go. “You drive safe now, darlin’. Call me from the road if you need anything.”

  He turned and walked away, his cowboy boot heels clicking on the asphalt as he crossed to his truck.

  I drove back in silence, replaying the entire encounter as I analyzed every moment and created alternate scenarios in my head. The phone rang about a half hour from home. I knew it was Cabe.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  We both said nothing for a moment. Then I exhaled loudly, and he said, “You still with Dweeb?”

  “His name is Dwayne.”

  “Oh, I know his name,” Cabe said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought the boy was jealous. “Are you still with him?”

  “Nope.”

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yep.”

  More silence. I knew Cabe wanted answers. He even deserved them as a concerned friend, but I had none to give. I wasn’t sure what had transpired and how I felt about it. All I had was more questions.

  “Ty?” he said.

  “Yes?” I answered.

  “Don’t be mad at me. I only wanted to—”

  I interrupted him. “I’m not mad at you, Cabe. I’m just bewildered.”

  “Bewildered? Really? Who says that? Who says they’re bewildered? I have never in my life heard another person say, ‘Hey, I’m bewildered.’ That’s weird.”

  “Okay, Mr. Vocabulary, what word would you like me to say?”

  “Well, I want you to say ‘Cabe, you were right,’ but that could mean a whole lot of things happened that I don’t want to hear about, so for once in my life, I hope I was wrong.”

  “I didn’t sleep with him.”

  “I didn’t ask.”

  “Neither did he,” I said, which technically was true, even though the offer was certainly insinuated.

  “Really? Wow. Can’t believe he passed up that opportunity. He’s dumber than I thought.”

  “Oh, you! I can’t believe you!” I acted shocked, but I smiled.

  “How close to home are you?” he asked.

  “About twenty minutes.”

  “Want me to come over? Do you need to talk?” he asked.

  “No, thanks. I appreciate you offering, but I’m beat. I have Laura’s wedding tomorrow. I’m kind of processing everything right now. We can talk later. I’m okay, though. I promise.”

  “Alright. Wanna go to the beach on Sunday? Hang out? Picnic, sit in the sand, talk about your ex-boyfriend?”

  “Well, when you put it that way, who could refuse? Yeah. Let’s go to the beach. Do you know if it’s supposed to be cold?”

  “Who cares?” Cabe said. “I’m a Floridian. I go to the beach year-round. We’ll take blankets and dress warm.”

  “Okay.” I paused, but when he didn’t say anything else, I spoke. “Hey, Cabe?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for calling. For checking on me.
Thanks for caring.”

  “No problem, Buttercup.”

  Saturday, December 7th

  I probably should have just talked it out with Cabe. I should have known I’d never make it through an entire workday without everything pouring out of me, and since Laura was the person next to me all day, I ended up sharing the most recent episode of The Life and Times of Tyler with one of my bosses. Again. It’s starting to be a bad habit, and I can only hope it doesn’t doom my career.

  I had yawned quite a few times when she asked what I did last night, and before I knew what was happening, I had recapped the whole dinner escapade.

  “And how do you feel about it today?” Laura asked as we tied bows on favor boxes.

  “Honestly? I’m not sure. I mean, I think I’m supposed to be mad at him. Cabe thinks I’m supposed to be mad at him, and I guess he’s right.”

  “You can’t base your feelings on what Cabe thinks you should do, Tyler. They’re your feelings.”

  “I know, I just feel guilty. Like I’m doing something wrong. I know Dwayne hurt me, and I understand why Cabe thinks the way he does. I probably should be mad. But for some reason, I still want to talk to Dwayne.”

  Laura stacked the boxes carefully on the tray, her slender hands steadying the second tier as she spoke.

  “I don’t think you should feel guilty for wanting to talk to him. I mean, he was someone very important in your life. You spent quite a bit of time with him, invested a substantial amount of your emotions. It didn’t end with a clean break. So I think you probably have unfinished business between you. The chapter is still open.”

  I dropped the stack of the boxes I was carrying in my haste to protest. “Oh, no, I’m not saying I want to get back together with Dwayne. I can’t see that happening. I just . . . I don’t know.”

  Laura smiled as she bent to help me pick up the favors. “Tyler, just because the chapter is still open doesn’t mean you’re going to turn back the pages in the book. Sometimes in life, we transition out of one phase without the closure we need to fully move into the next phase. Maybe there are things left unsaid between you. Maybe there’s healing to be done. I don’t know. But I think you both are obviously still connected in some way, and I think you need to cut yourself some slack in figuring out what it means.”