Becca had just finished showering when she heard the familiar knock on the front door. One tap followed by a pause and three successive taps. It was the secret knock she and Donovan made when they were in elementary school. Was it irony or coincidence that he brought back the ritual three weekends before they were to get married.
“One minute,” she yelled across the house.
The click of the key turning in the lock was followed by the crack of the front door opening. She slid her top over her head and peeked into the hallway to make sure Donovan was alone.
He called out while making his way to the kitchen. “Hiding your key under the mat isn’t exactly what I’d call safe. It’s the first place a burglar would look.”
“You’re probably right. I’ll get one of those fake rocks.”
She rounded the corner to be greeted by Donovan holding up his gift of a to go box. The scent of freshly made chips wafted in her direction. “I brought you a little something.”
“Oh, thanks.” Becca took the container into the kitchen and placed it on the counter beside the fridge. She opened the door and took out a lite beer for Donovan and a pink Gatorade for herself. She snapped open the beer and handed it to him before making her way to the living room
Donovan pointed back at the chips. “Aren’t you going to eat them? They’re fresh.”
“Maybe later.”
Frowning, Donovan said, “You don’t think you’re fat. Do you?”
Becca shook her head. “No, I hike two times a week and play league sports for nine of the twelve months of the year. I’m too active to worry about what people think about my body type.” There was no reason for him to know her insecurities. Already things were changing between them. If they were to have had the conversation three days ago, her response would have been a resounding yes.
Donovan went back for the chips. He opened the container and popped a chip in his mouth. He brought the chips with him to the living room and set them on the coffee table. “Clearly it bothered you. Why didn’t you say something?”
She sat on her couch and curled her feet under her legs. “You are absolutely correct. I should have told your friend that my body is not his concern.”
He sat across from her in the chair her parents bought her as a present for buying the house. She reserved the chair for quiet reading times, movie marathons, and the nights when she strained her back doing something crazy like diving for a ball that was out of her reach. Donovan’s legs were so long the chair was almost too small for him.
“I need to know. What are you thinking?” Donovan leaned forward in the chair.
“It’s just six months.”
His brow wrinkled. “That’s just cold feet talking.”
“No,” she argued, “it’s my sense of independence feeling stifled. Before this week I tried to look nice because I wanted to be attractive. Now I have to worry about what people think. I don’t like it.”
“I didn’t say you were fat.”
“When someone hints that another person is fat and you don’t disagree, your silence is a vote of agreement. So, I have to be very careful about what I eat for six months.”
The wrinkle in Donovan’s brow deepened. “When did you get so needy?”
He was the one who put her in the position of being on display for people to make comments. And, he called her needy? Becca stood and made her way to the door. On the way there she declared, “You need to go home so I can get a good night’s sleep,” and then quickly added, “Nobody wants a bride with dark circles under her eyes.” There was some truth to the last part of her statement.
Either he didn’t get the hint or didn’t care. Donovan closed the door. “Why are you arguing with me?”
Becca had a list of reasons. The first of which being she didn’t have a good feeling about them getting married. Six months was a long time to be unhappy.
Donovan never gave her a chance to speak. His face brightened as though he figured out the answer to a question where the answer had been slightly out of reach. “I get it.” He wagged his finger at her. “If I break up, it’ll be my fault; and then you don’t have to feel bad about me losing the money.” His smile widened, “Nice try. Okay, I’ll give you your space.” He circled around and opened the door. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Instead of relieving her concerns, Donovan added one more item to her list of concerns. The way things were right now if they had a disagreement, he went to his house, and she stayed in hers. What would it be like when they were under the same roof? All. The. Time.
Becca hadn’t made it to the kitchen with the chips when she heard the front door open. Donovan rushed into the room. “We can’t end it like that.”
“Like what?”
“The way we went about making this happen isn’t the most conventional, but I have this feeling. This is it. You are my last girlfriend, Becca.”
She didn’t think it was appropriate to remind him that technically they were never boyfriend and girlfriend. They hadn’t been on a date nor had they partook in the other boyfriend girlfriend benefits. No cuddling on the couch while watching a movie, or holding hands while walking through the store. Other than them planning a wedding that was to take place in three weeks there was nothing to indicate they were an official couple.
Donovan took the chips from her hand and set them on the counter. With her hands free, he held the both of them to form a visible link. “You are my best friend. I know that you watch American Ninja Warriors on Sundays. And, I know, without you telling me, that you scheduled the wedding five days after your special week so you won’t look bloated.” Becca’s hand instinctively went to her abdomen. He took the hand back and held it gently. “You know the right thing to say when I second guess myself. I could have tricked anyone into marrying me. But I came to you with the truth. And, you accepted me.” His eyes bore into hers. “This is our happily ever after, Becca. I’m not promising it’ll be easy, but I know we can do this.”
Becca had no response. She looked for a rebuttal and found nothing.
“Are you with me?”
She nodded her yes.
He pulled her in for a hug. “Good, then no more talk about just six months. We take life one day at a time, and the worst thing that can happen is we end up having a happy life together.” He kissed her on the forehead and gave her hand one last squeeze before offering his parting words, “I’ll call you in the morning.”
The door closed, and Becca stood in her kitchen in utter shock. Her stomach twisted in knots while her heart fluttered. Donovan said three words she’d never thought would come out of his mouth, “Happily ever after.”
Where Were You?
“I’m wondering if we should just elope.” Donovan was at his usual Thursday night appointment at Keane’s pub with his best man and the man assigned the seat at the furthest table from the bridal party.
It was one week before the wedding. While Becca settled after they talked about the wedding being the beginning of firsts for them, she still presented the signs of being a flight risk.
“What I still don’t get is why you threw in the whole we can break up in six months clause.” Kent neither agreed nor disagreed with Donovan.
“Because every boyfriend she has had promised her happily ever after and with my help blew it within three months.”
“With your help?”
“Only one of them needed my help.”
“Please explain.”
“Present company excluded, she always chose guys that were tools. It was obvious that they were easily distracted. Before social media, “I’d coincidentally plan an outing with her where we’d bust the guy with another girl. After social media, it was easy. Pull up pictures where he’s tagged on another girl’s profile and just drop a subtle hint. Anyway, these guys always presented themselves as Mr. Wonderful. I had to go the opposite direction to keep myself from being in the same category. I said the six months thing to let her know that I know I’m not perfect.”
“What about saying something creative like hey I’m not perfect, but I’ll try my best,” Kent suggested.
“Where were you when it mattered?” Donovan was stressed enough to fall into sarcasm.
“Do you want my help on the honeymoon too,” Kent quipped.
“Hahahahaha!” Keane pointed at Kent while he laughed, “At this rate, you’ll end up at the back table with me. It’ll be the first wedding where the groomsmen are sitting separately from the bridal party.”
The door opened, and Becca, Abigail, and Dina walked in wearing smiles that said they had accomplished something. Becca’s hair looked different. He was used to seeing it tied back in a ponytail that hung to just above her shoulders. It draped down to between her shoulder blades. Perhaps they got their hair done.
“Say something nice, and you’ll get moved back to the front,” Donovan coached.
He met Becca midway to the bar and squeezed her hand in a hello greeting. After all the years of holding back, being honest with her about how he felt was a relief.
Her smile held that cautious distance. She still didn’t believe his intentions, and that was okay. In a matter of time, she’d see that he loved her.
They returned to his spot at the bar to hear Keane ask, “Will it be the usual, ladies? If you want to try something different, we have a new low-calorie wine.”
Donovan blew up. “Are you trying to get me divorced before I’m married?” He took Becca by the hand and stood to leave. “Don’t listen to him.”
“What?” Keane asked. “It’s my newest best seller. All the ladies love it.”
“Is it the Weight Watchers or Skinny Girl brand?” Dina put her purse on the ledge and chose the seat beside it at the bar.
Keane held up his hands as if to say, “I told you so.”
The door opened to introduce another group of customers entering the restaurant. Two hulking men entered. They were accompanied by a diminutive woman whose eyes roamed around and stopped on the distinctive features of the restaurant.
Becca brightened and released Donovan’s hand. She held out her hands in greeting. “I am so glad you made it.”
It had been so long since Donovan had seen Becca’s father and brother, Jonathan and John Jr, he forgot how large the ex-professional football players were. When he lived in Three Creeks, Jonathan Cartwright coached the Three Creeks Badgers to winning three titles. Her brother graduated and went on to play for Penn state and the Steelers until he retired five years ago.
Becca ushered her family past the hostess station to the bar. Beginning with Abigail, she reintroduced everyone to her family. Her mother, Gayle, nodded and noted something Becca had said about each of them. Saving the man behind the counter for last, she introduced Keane, “This is Donovan’s friend.”
Becca’s father smiled as he said, “The one who called you fat?”
Keane dropped the cup he had been holding. It took everything in Donovan to resist the urge to point at his friend and laugh.
Her brother John Jr. joined the conversation, “Don’t hold it against him. Maybe he isn’t used to seeing women with athletic builds.”
The statement forced Donovan to check out his fiancée. Because she was his fiancée, he was allowed to smile in appreciation at her curves. Even through her loose-fitting clothes, it was obvious that other than her potato chip addiction, she had been dedicated to a healthy lifestyle.
Keane cleared his throat. “So. You’re here for the wedding?”
“Yes. My wife Gayle got the feeling that Becca was feeling the pressures of wedding preparation and insisted we come early and help.”
Donovan didn’t know whether to thank or fear them. What did Becca say that made them feel like she was being pressured?
“We should go take a table.” Becca’s mother curled her arm through her husband’s elbow. “I know us being here this early is a surprise. Donovan, if you don’t have any plans, we’d love to have you join us for dinner.”
If two human brick walls weren’t standing there, Donovan would have wrapped his arm around Becca’s shoulder and gladly accompanied them. Her brother looked like he may have accidentally crushed a couple fingers in a friendly handshake. Donovan shoved his hand into his pocket and said, “I was getting ready to ask Becca what she wanted to do. You’ve answered the question.”
He joined the table to look back at the bar and see four amused faces watching him with Becca’s family. Keane’s smile was the broadest of them all. His friend was up to something, but Donovan didn’t have time to figure it out. Gayle tapped the chair beside her. “Sit by me. We need to catch up on what’s been going on since the last time we were here.”
On first glance, it seemed like the safest seat at the table. A meal later, Donovan learned otherwise. Gayle was the inquisitor. He wouldn’t have been surprised if the other two men handed her a list of questions. The questions began light and easy with “Where are you going for the honeymoon?” and grew progressively heavier. It made sense; they wanted to make sure his intention toward the only daughter in the family was sincere.
“I imagine you’d want to get started on grandchildren right away, with the both of you being older,” her mother suggested.
Donovan had no intention of having children. With them getting married at such a late age it should have been obvious that Becca had similar feelings.
“I’m sure Becca’s told you that we’ve taken the more traditional philosophy of marriage and decided to wait until our honeymoon to get to know each other. Let’s get past that and then we’ll talk children.”
Her father, mother, and brother responded with open mouthed, stunned silence. Becca turned fifty shades of red. For the next couple of minutes, they ate their appetizers in relative silence. When her father regained his voice, he said, “I remember things being different in small towns. I’d forgotten how much. Do you still have interesting community events like you used to?”
“As a matter of fact, we do.” With things falling into his line of expertise, Donovan was ready to hear Becca’s say that they were a good match.
They were in the middle of talking about a chili cook off scheduled in October when Keane stopped by the table with two bowls brimming with freshly fried potato chips. He waved the bowls in the direction of the bar. “I get the feeling that we had a poor first impression over there. I thought I’d stop by with this sampling of your daughter’s favorite item on the menu to smooth things over.”
Becca’s eyes pleaded with Donovan to stop whatever it was Keane planned on doing. Donovan had no idea of what to expect, so he grimaced in anticipation of his friend’s well intended but poorly worded attempts of offering an olive branch to the father of the bride.
Jonathon and Gayle sampled a chip and smiled. “These are good.”
Keane beamed at their approval and began the explanation of his intention. “Food brings everything together.” He scooted into the booth beside Gayle. Just as Becca began chewing on a chip, he said, “With that being said, would you mind asking your daughter if I can come back to the groom’s table. I promise I won’t say anything offensive until after she’s Mrs. Garrison.”
Becca choked on the chip. Her father tapped her back and offered Becca a glass of water. When her cough settled, he replied, “How about this. If you stay away from my daughter long enough for her to make it to the altar. We have a deal.”
Keane held out his hand for a shake and said, “Deal.”
You May Kiss The Bride
THE WEATHER WAS PERFECT for a July wedding. “This is a good sign,” Gayle Cartwright said. “The sun is a sign of how your hearts will be toward each other for your marriage.”
“What does it mean if it is snowing?” Becca joked about her mother’s weather related comparison.
Without skipping a beat, she responded with, “You’ll be close to keep each other warm.”
Her mother was the eternal romantic. According to Gayle Cartwright, problems were simply life’s way of applying adhes
ive to a relationship. Becca saw it over and over again through her parent’s marriage. Something came up, and her mother would lovingly touch her father’s forearm and say, “Are we ready to tackle this one coach?”
They had been doing it so long Becca wished she were there to witness what prompted the habit in the first place. When she was married for real, she’d use it with her husband.
Donovan said he was in it for the long term, but she suspected he said it to keep her from fleeing before the ceremony.
The bridesmaids were off sneaking peeks at the wedding guests when Becca spotted Keane from the reflection in the mirror. His eyes panned back and forth to make sure the coast was clear. From there he half tiptoed into the room as though a faster walk would give away his presence. She couldn’t help noticing how the vest and tie he wore changed his appearance. At the pub, he was all business. The man standing in front of her was the friendly person she remembered from high school.
Becca turned around to see what he wanted. Guessing his intent, she said, "Hannah isn't here."
Keane blushed and recovered quickly. His eyes darted back toward the door as though it would reveal how much time he had to talk with Becca. He rushed his words, “Look I came to tell you a couple things. First, I am so happy for both you and Donovan. You’re good for each other."
Becca opened her mouth to thank him, but he cut her off.
“I also want you to know his love is the real thing. Don’t let him trick you into thinking it’s because you two made a deal about getting together at forty. That was all an act. He’s been in love with you for as long as I can remember. We’ve been trying to get him to act on it for years. You probably already know this. The man does not understand subtle.”
Becca waited in anticipation of a but. In response, Keane’s face wrinkled, and his voice raised in discomfort, “What?”
“I’m waiting for you to tell me something like I have a curl out of place, or a smudge in my makeup.”
Get Well Soon Page 3