by Becky Monson
Bride. Oh my gosh, I’m a married woman. I’m officially married to Jared. Only I ruined the kiss! Is it even official unless there’s a kiss?
“What do you say, Mrs. Moody?” Jared says with a little wriggle of his eyebrows.
I don’t even answer because I’m swooning at being called Mrs. Moody, the entire spider incident already in the past. Not really, I’ll be reliving that for a while. But at least it’s put on hold.
He leans in and kisses me, gently at first, but then quite passionately. I know I said I didn’t want a super long kiss at my wedding, but that was in front of a crowd. Right now, on this chair lift, just him and me and a lift full of hippies behind us, I don’t care.
CHA
PTER 24
A buzzing noise next to my ear wakes me up the next morning. It takes me a few seconds to realize that it’s coming from my phone. I pick it up and through sleepy eyes try to see who the heck would be texting me at seven thirty in the morning on a Sunday.
Anna. Does she ever sleep?
I’ve missed four texts from her. All about how I need to decide how I want the napkins to be folded on the tables.
7:15 A.M.
Julia, I have an important question about napkins. Text or call me ASAP.
7:25 A.M.
Julia, where are you? Napkins! I need an answer.
7:28 A.M.
I need to tell the banquet hall today. Can you please text me back?
7: 30 A.M.
Seriously?
Why would I even care about napkins? I text her back that I want them all in the shape of a goose and then I turn off my phone. That’ll annoy her for a while.
I look over and see Jared’s slow, rhythmic breathing. I’m happy my crazy sister/wedding planner from hell didn’t wake him up. I’ve got to say, waking up next to Jared as his wife might be the best feeling ever.
The sunlight filtering into the room shines off the ring on Jared’s finger. It’s amazing how one little band of gold can mean so much. He’s mine, legally. He’s now officially stuck with me. Too bad the ring can only stay on for today since we have to keep up appearances until the official wedding. It looks so pretty, though.
I’m a married woman. It’s kind of hard to believe. I almost feel like an imposter in my own life. Like I don’t belong here, or I’ll wake up and this would all be just a dream. And it’s not like this was a lifelong goal of mine or anything. In fact, for a while I went through a phase of thinking I’d probably never get married, and I was mostly okay with that. My cats and I could’ve been very happy together. Not as happy as I am with Jared, obviously.
Of course, now that I’m married, I have to start thinking of someone else besides myself. We’re a partnership now. We have to make decisions together in all facets of our life. But even more important than that, I’m wondering how long I have to wait before I can get fat. Since he’s now stuck with me. I feel a sinister laugh bubbling from within me … and horns.
Jared stirs next to me, making a low moaning sound in his throat as he wakes.
“Good morning, Mrs. Moody,” he says, his voice groggy from sleep.
“Good morning, Mr. Moody,” I say and then giggle. I don’t know if that will ever get old.
“You’re up early. How did you sleep?” he asks. He slides an arm under me and pulls me into him and I rest my head on his chest.
“Pretty well,” I say as I snuggle up to him. “You?”
“Not bad,” he plants a kiss on the top of my head. I trace lazy circle patterns on his chest.
“Happy?” he asks, and by his tone, I can tell he knows the answer to that.
“So happy,” I say. And I am. I don’t know when I’ve been this happy.
The wedding was nothing if not memorable (I’ll never in my life forget that spider), and last night—our wedding night—was romantic and wonderful and there wasn’t a hippy or spider in sight. Which would’ve been awkward had there been. Especially the hippy part.
I had my doubts but I think all in all, it was the best thing to do. I can already feel the pressure of the big wedding lifted from me. I’m now ready for it. Mostly. At least I can breathe. And Jared and I will have a secret that’s just ours and a day that was just for us.
“Hungry?” I ask Jared, feeling my own stomach gurgle.
“I am,” he says as he rolls me onto my back and then turns himself so he’s half on top of me. “But not for breakfast,” he says with a quick lift of his brow.
“No?”
“Nope,” he says, his mouth finding mine.
On second thought, I’m not so hungry for breakfast anymore either.
CH
APTER 25
“Wait!” Jared says as he opens the door to his condo for me. My body jerks in response.
“Oh my gosh, is there a spider on me?” I throw my purse down on the floor and immediately start to jump around. Is it the same spider? Did it lay eggs in my hair and now hundreds of baby spiders are crawling all over me?
“No,” He says, placing calming hands on my shoulders. “No spiders. I need to carry you across the threshold,” he smiles. “It’s tradition.” He picks my purse up off the floor and places it and the suitcases just inside the open door and then reaches for me.
My mind starts spitting out a zillion thoughts. Like: “He’s so romantic.” And, “Oh, my gosh, he’ll break something … like his back.” And, “Why did I eat such a big breakfast at the hotel?” And, “If I pray hard enough, can God magically make me thinner?”
There’s not enough time to totally freak out because before I can say it’s not necessary, Jared has swung me into his arms like I’m as light as a feather. He’s even able to shut the door and lock it once we’re inside. I feel so girlie. I even giggle like a little girl as he holds me with ease.
He doesn’t set me down once we get inside; he walks over to the couch in the living room and lays me down. And then, slowly and gently, he lowers himself on top of me.
“Welcome home,” he says, and then starts kissing trails down my neck to my shoulder.
And just like Little Orphan Annie, I think I’m gonna like it here.
It’s about the time that my shirt is scrunched up to my neck and Jared’s is unbuttoned that we hear a throat clear.
I scream and Jared falls off me like a couple of teenagers that were caught by a mom. We may not be teenagers, but we were caught by a mom. Jared’s mom.
Holy crap on a stick.
“Mom,” Jared says, his breath ragged as he attempts to pull my shirt down, but it’s in vain. It’s a tighter shirt and basically it won’t budge. Please, just let me die right now. Oh please, oh please, oh please!
“Oh sorry!” Bobby says, covering her eyes. “I’ll just go back to my room.” She pivots and heads down the hall.
Did she say her room? Does she have her own room here? Why do I know nothing about this?
“Jules,” Jared says, standing up from the floor. I grab his offered hand and he helps pull me to standing so I can fix my stupid shirt, which I’m burning after today.
“Oh my gosh,” I cover my face with my hands. “That was so embarrassing.”
“I’m so sorry,” he says wearily. He puts a hand through his hair.
“Why is she here?” I ask.
“I don’t know. She has a key, though.”
“Well, this is awkward,” I say, feeling quite sick to my stomach. Clearly I’m going to have to change the locks.
“Let me … let me just go talk to her. I’ll be right back,” he says.
But before he can get to the hallway, Bobby comes out with her eyes covered.
“Don’t mind me, you two. I just need to grab my glasses from the kitchen,” she says as she feels her way around with the hand that’s not covering her eyes.
“It’s okay, Mom,” Jared says. “You can open your eyes.”
She slowly moves her hand from her eyes as if she isn’t sure she should trust us. I take a seat back on the couch, not wanting to mak
e eye contact with her. On a scale of embarrassing, ten being the most embarrassing thing ever, this is like a billion. A hole in the floor that could suck me in right now would be incredibly welcome.
“I’m so sorry,” Bobby says. “I just needed to grab my glasses. I had no idea you were here. I thought you went away for the weekend.”
“We did,” Jared said. “We came back today.”
“Well, again, I’m so very sorry,” she says.
“It’s fine, Mom,” Jared says, his voice softening. “What’re you doing here anyway?”
“Well, I’ve got to stay here for a bit,” she says.
“What?” Jared says, rather surly.
“That pipe that burst in my house did a lot more structural damage than they thought. I’ve got mold, Jared. So I’ll need to stay here until they fix it up. It should be done just in time for the wedding.”
Jared looks to me, and I shake my head. I know what he’s thinking. He’s thinking we should tell her we eloped. But he can’t do that to her. Or to me. I can’t have my mother-in-law hating me. I’ve worked to foster a fairly good relationship with Bobby, and I’m not going to jeopardize that. We’ll have to find another way.
“Can’t you stay with Mark?” Jared asks. Yes, Mark. Great idea.
“No way. Did you know that Lisa moved in with him? I can’t believe he’d go against everything I stand for. I don’t want to be party to that. No thank you.” She folds her arms. “Besides, his apartment is much too small. You have plenty of room here. I’ll be quiet as a mouse; you won’t even know I’m here.”
Jared looks at me and I try not to display the what-the-crap look my face wants to contort into. But seriously. What. The. Crap.
My what-the-crap face also encompasses the fact that Mark and Lisa are now living together. I thought they would’ve broken up by now. Clearly, my prayers haven’t been heard. Or perhaps those are the kind of prayers that don’t get answered.
“I’ll just go back to my room, you two can have the living room all to yourselves. I promise not to interrupt.” She gives me a quick smile and then scoots her little petite self back to “her” room.
“Jared,” I say as soon as I hear the door close. I’m using hushed tones in case she has supersonic hearing.
“I know,” he says, clearly irritated. “We’ll figure it out. I could put her up in a hotel or something.”
“For six weeks? That’d be ridiculously expensive.”
“Do you have any better ideas?” he asks earnestly.
“Not yet. But I’ll think of something.” I chew on my bottom lip as I contemplate our options.
“You could come stay with me,” I say, but know instantly that would be a bad idea. Whether we’re here or at my place, we would still be “shacking up” in Bobby’s eyes. I probably shouldn’t care since this is the twenty-first century and all that, but I do. I don’t want to disappoint my mother-in-law. She’s going to have plenty of things to hold over my head once she gets to know the real me. I don’t need to start out on the wrong foot. Especially a foot she’s incredibly passionate about.
“We’ll think of something,” Jared says as he comes over to the couch and sits next to me. He puts his arm around me and pulls me into him. He gives me a little kiss on my head, and then starts trailing kisses down to my ear and then to my neck. Like he wants to pick up where we left off.
Is he high?
“Are you high?” I pull away from him. “Your mother is in the next room.”
“So?” he says, trying to pull me back to him.
“So? I don’t think so,” I say, lowering my eyebrows in complete resolution. Ain’t nothing happening on this couch now. No way. Nuh-uh.
“Fine then, let’s go to your place,” he says, getting up from the couch. He reaches his hands out for mine and pulls me up to standing.
“Okay,” I say, and then lean my head up to kiss him. He may have had a momentary lapse in judgment, but he’s still my husband.
My husband. I’m still not truly grasping that.
“Bobby,” Jared yells down the hall to his mom.
“Yes?” I hear her muffled from behind her door.
“We’re going over to Julia’s for a little while.”
I hear the door open. “Okay,” she says, sounding disappointed. Does she really want us around after she just caught us so … so … Oh gosh, I can’t even say it.
“When will you be back?” Bobby asks.
“I’m not sure,” Jared says. “I’ll call and let you know.”
Why do I feel like I’ve just gone through a wormhole and I’m back in high school?
This is so weird.
CHAPTE
R 26
Guess how long it took to sell my condo?
One week. One stinking-stupid-piece-of-crap week. Dang you Colorado pot smoking laws. If it weren’t for that, I’d have sold my condo like any regular person—it would’ve taken months and I probably would’ve lost money. But no. My condo sold in a week, and I made quite the profit as well. Dash it all.
I should be thrilled, I know. But now I’m basically homeless. With Bobby over at Jared’s place I can’t go there. Not unless I want to be judged and end up on my mother-in-law’s crap list. I could move in with Anna, but then instead of constant texts about the wedding, she’d just talk about it all day. I don’t think I could deal. If I moved in with Lennon, I’d be babysitting on all my off hours. Plus, when a couple is having issues, it’s not very helpful for someone to join the party. Especially family. Although they do seem like they’re doing better and when asked, Lennon only gave me a quick nod. I don’t think me moving in would help matters though. They need their space.
I have only one option, essentially … my parents’ basement. Yes, my adult life has basically come full circle.
Right now I’m sitting in my office at the bakery figuring out another conundrum. Who the heck can I hire to replace Kate? I have to find someone and do it fast. Time is running out. I can’t exactly leave for my honeymoon and let Debbie and Patti pick up the slack. They’d quit for sure. I’ve already asked Beth and she can help a few of the days, but not every day like I need.
I walk out to the kitchen, lean up against one of the metal tables that we do most of our work on, and let out a huge sigh.
“What’s eatin’ you, darlin’?” Patti asks as she rolls sugar cookie dough out.
“There are no good applicants,” I say, and allow my shoulders to droop as far as they’ll go.
“You know what I think,” Patti says, lifting her eyebrows high in a most reproving kind of way.
“Yes, I know what you think,” I say, feeling irritation pulse through me.
“Why don’t you just call her? Call Kate and tell her she can have her job back,” Patti says.
“Because … because … Oh, I don’t know,” I say. But I do know. It’s my pride at stake here. I don’t have a ton of pride, honestly. But what I do have, I guard.
“It’s your fault, you know,” I say, pointing an index finger in her direction. “If it weren’t for you complaining about her, I wouldn’t have fired her.”
She puts a hand on her hip, her lips pursed together. “Darlin’, all I said was you need to talk to her. I didn’t think you’d go all nuttier than a squirrel turd.”
“I … uh … wait, what?” I lower my chin, eyeing her through half closed lids.
I did go nutty on her, that’s true. In truth, now that the dust has settled, I’m on medication, and Jared and I are secretly married, I can now see that Kate was quite the asset to my bakery. Sure, she changed things, but in truth she saved us tons of money by changing vendors—something I never had the time to do. Patti and Debbie may have hated her cleaning schedules, but we use them now even with her not around.
“Just call her,” Patti says, going back to her sugar cookies.
“Oh, okay, fine,” I say.
I head back to my office to make the dreaded call. The one where I have to eat crow.
/> Crow, as I’ve learned much too often in my life, does not taste good.
~*~
“You really should’ve gone on drugs earlier,” Anna says as we stuff wedding invitations into envelopes.
“What do you mean?” I ask, feeling slightly offended.
“You’re just so much more easy-going now,” she says. “Not all nut job-y like you’ve been for the past few months.”
“Thanks,” I say without intonation. Anna truly has a way with words.
It’s not only the meds that are making me feel calm, it’s that all things are going fairly well in Juliaville. Well, most things are going well. I’ve got Kate back. She came with a price, though. I had to give her a raise and also the promise that she could manage the store at some point. I’d already thought this would be a great idea, actually, so that was an easy thing to agree to. Especially if I open a second location, which Jared hasn’t brought up once since I told him we needed to put it on hold. But if we do go ahead, she’d be perfect to manage the new store.
For now I can get married—well, I can do the big wedding and then we can go on our Hawaiian honeymoon—and I won’t have to worry about the bakery. It’ll be in great hands.
Currently, Anna (aka the devil wedding planner) has us in an assembly line—that’s how many pieces are going into this invitation. There’s tissue paper, an RSVP card with matching envelope, another card with directions to the church and then to the hotel where the reception will be, and, of course, the actual invite.
She’s got my mom, Bobby, me, and Brown working on it. My dad was helping, but somehow he’s snuck out. I wonder how he did that. I need to know his tricks.
I get to put the actual invite in the envelope, and each time I do, stabs of guilt go through my gut. The card is beautiful with its simple white elegance and letterpress design. It’s gorgeous. Of course, Anna picked it out. I mean, she made me feel like I was picking it out by giving me only a couple of choices and then dropping hints on the one she thought would work perfect until I picked it. She’s pretty genius that way. An evil genius.