You and Me and Us

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You and Me and Us Page 24

by Alison Hammer


  “Out back setting everything up.” He smiles and ruffles my hair as we head inside. “Now let’s see if I can make a miracle out of this.”

  Jill greets us at the front door and hugs me tight. “Happy wedding day!”

  “There will be time for that later,” he tells his twin as he shoos her away and leads me upstairs. “I set everything up in Jill’s bathroom.”

  I sneak a peek as we walk past Abigail’s room. Part of me expects it to look the way it did when she was a little girl, but the canopy princess bed is long gone and her giant stuffed animals have been replaced by art supplies. I’m happy to see there is one stuffed animal left. Propped up against the pillows on her bed sits Beary, the white GUND bear Tommy gave her when Beau was born. He looks well loved, like any good teddy bear should.

  The door to Beau’s room is closed, but I can hear the telltale sounds of video games coming from inside. I hesitate at the door, emotions threatening to overcome me again. Ever since my talk with Becky, I’ve been able to look at Beau a bit differently. Now, I can see some of Jill in him, too. And if he’s as good a friend to CeCe as his mom is to me, then I’m grateful she has him. Although they still aren’t allowed in either house alone.

  “You coming?” Jack calls from Jill’s bedroom at the end of the hall.

  “Just a minute.”

  I raise my hand to knock on Beau’s door. He opens it and does a double take, clearly surprised to see me.

  “I just wanted to let you know how sorry I am,” I say.

  “It’s okay,” Beau says. “You don’t have to—”

  “It’s not okay, and I do have to. I’m sorry and I hope you can forgive me. I know—” Before I can get the rest of my apology out, Beau has his arms around me in a quick hug.

  “It’s okay, Aunt Lexie,” he says. “All this with Uncle Tommy, it’s messing everything up. But what you’re doing today, it’s pretty cool.”

  “Thanks Beau Bo,” I say, using Tommy’s nickname for him.

  His eyes shimmer with tears and I smile before turning to go. He doesn’t want me to see him cry, and I know that if he does, I won’t be able to stop from joining him.

  I find Jack in Jill’s bathroom, where he’s created a pop-up salon. I take a seat at the kitchen stool set up in front of the sink, surveying the counter and what looks like every styling product known to woman.

  “So how are you really?” Jack asks, running his hands through my hair. I close my eyes and savor the feeling of his fingers massaging my scalp.

  “Better now.”

  “I’m serious.”

  I open my left eye and see Jack’s reflection staring back at me, his forehead wrinkled in concern. “I don’t want to be sad today.”

  “Fair enough.” He puts a smile back on his face and squeezes my shoulder before reaching for a bottle of something that comes out white and foamy.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me what I was thinking about for my hair?” I ask, playing coy.

  Jack’s fingers don’t stop moving. “If you want.”

  “Would it make a difference if I told you?”

  “Boo, please.”

  I turn to give him a look, but his hands are instantly on both sides of my face, moving my head back in position. I smile and try to keep still so Jack can do his best to transform me into a bride on what’s supposed to be the happiest day of her life.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  CeCe

  Usually, it would bum me out that Dad is inside sleeping in the middle of the afternoon, but I know he could use the rest so he’ll be able to enjoy tonight. Plus, since he’s asleep and I know there’s no chance Mom will be coming home, I can sit outside and read The Art of Acting out in the open.

  I feel like a boy sneaking a peek at dirty magazines every time I read it. I know there’s nothing to be ashamed of, it’s just not worth their questions. And as long as they don’t know that Monica and I are talking, they can’t tell me to stop. And if I stop, she won’t be able to invite me to come out to L.A. to live with her. She was this close to doing it the other day, I could feel it.

  She didn’t correct the craft services lady when she called me her daughter, and she was telling me about how lonely it was in her apartment, and that she didn’t have any guests to use her guest bedroom.

  I sigh and open up the book to where I left off with the chapter “Instant and Inner Justifications” when a Yellow Cab pulls into the driveway. I close the book and set it beside me. We aren’t expecting anyone.

  The cab’s back door opens and I see a flash of hot pink in the backseat.

  “Aunt Becky!” I scream so loud I probably woke Dad, which I totally didn’t mean to do. But Aunt Becky!

  “Baby cakes!”

  I run into her open arms so hard that she stumbles back against the cab. “What are you doing here?” My eyes start to water even though I’m the opposite of sad.

  “You don’t know?” Becky asks. “Shit.”

  “I don’t know what?” She can’t know about the wedding. Mom would have told me if Becky was coming.

  “Your dad is planning a little surprise for your mom.”

  Behind us, the front door opens and Dad stands there, leaning against the doorframe, his oxygen tank beside him. “Our first wedding guest has arrived.”

  “You know?” I ask Dad. I don’t understand what’s happening.

  “So you do know?” Becky asks before dragging her suitcase toward the house. If she’s surprised to see how bad Dad looks, she doesn’t let it show. “Hello, groom.”

  “Hey, Becks.” Dad gives her a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “I am so confused,” I say, still standing in the driveway.

  “Come on, sweet girl,” Becky says.

  I sigh and run up the stairs to join them inside to see if I can figure out what in the world is going on.

  “Ceese, why don’t you go and get our guest a glass of your fancy Arnold Palmers,” Dad says. “And one for your old man.”

  I nod and walk into the kitchen, still trying to make sense of everything.

  When I get back to the living room, Dad and Becky are both sitting on the couch. There’s no room for me, so I climb onto Dad’s bed. Aunt Becky gives me a smile, but her eyes are glassy and I can tell it’s hard for her to see Dad like this, even though she’s doing a pretty good job of pretending.

  “Now someone talk,” I demand.

  “Your aunt Jill let it slip about the plan,” Dad says. “Maybe on purpose. Or maybe because she’s never been good at keeping secrets.”

  “Mom is going to be so pissed.”

  “Not as pissed as I’d be if she finally tied the knot and I wasn’t here,” Becky says. “This is really good, by the way. Your mom told me you’ve turned into a whiz in the kitchen.”

  “She did?” I’m surprised and flattered, but I can’t let an unexpected compliment derail me. “But I still don’t know what you’re doing here. No offense.”

  “None taken, lamb chop. I had to deliver the goods.”

  Becky unzips her faux–army issue backpack and hands a jewelry box to my dad.

  “Is that . . . ?”

  “The ring I bought for your mom before you were born, just in case she ever said yes.” He hands me the box and I lift the lid. There’s one big round diamond surrounded by a bunch of smaller ones in a platinum setting.

  “Whoa.”

  “Do you think she’ll like it?” Dad asks.

  “Hasn’t she seen it before?”

  Dad shakes his head, and there’s a sparkle in his eye I haven’t seen since I can’t remember when. “When she said yes, I wanted it to be because of me, and not for a new, shiny ring.”

  “That’s such a shrink thing to say.” I take the ring out of the box and slip it on my finger. I hope that’s not bad luck, but I figure our luck can’t get any worse. “She’s going to love it. So how are you going to give it to her?”

  “I haven’t figured that part out yet.”

  “It might
be cool if you let Alexis propose this time,” Becky says.

  “Interesting,” Dad says.

  “The trick is going to be getting her to do it,” Becky thinks out loud, resting a finger thoughtfully on her chin. They look at each other, their expressions changing like they’re communicating with their eyes. Then they both turn to look at me. “You guys were thinking they’d just start the ceremony right away?”

  I shrug. “I think so.”

  “Maybe you suggest it to her,” Dad says.

  “Suggest what?” I ask. “Proposing?”

  “Why not?” he asks.

  “Because.” But I can’t think of a good reason. I give a little harrumph and stand up. I think better when I’m pacing. I grab the blue yoyo off the coffee table, mindlessly doing the tricks Dad taught me as I walk back and forth at the foot of his bed. How can I pull this off?

  “It’s like looking at a clone,” Becky says. I stop pacing and yank the yoyo back into my palm before shooting her a dirty look. I can’t help it if my mom paces, too. “Don’t stop on my account,” she says.

  “I could text her with the idea,” I say, walking back and forth again, letting the yoyo drop before flicking my wrist to pull it back up. “Jack’s probably still doing her hair.”

  “Jack’s here?” Dad sounds surprised.

  “Great, I spoiled the one secret that’s left.” I stop pacing and sit back down on the bed.

  “If I go over there, she’ll be worried about you being here alone.”

  “Say that Dolly got here early,” Dad suggests.

  “Who’s Dolly?” Becky asks.

  “One of the hospice nurses,” I tell her. “She’s really nice.”

  “When she gets here, can I sing ‘Hello, Dolly, well, hello, Dolly!’?” Becky starts doing jazz hands as she sings.

  “I’m sure she’s never heard that one before,” Dad says.

  Becky shrugs. “It’s better than a Dolly Parton joke.”

  “Can we get back on track, people?” Sometimes it seems like I’m the only grown-up around here.

  “I think this could work,” Becky says, back to business. “You can go over early and tell her you realized she missed a step—she can’t have a wedding without a proposal, so she needs to propose first.”

  “But how? And when?”

  “Right after your dad gets there, when it’s just the two of them.”

  “But she’ll be in her dress—he’ll see her.”

  “That doesn’t matter, none of this is traditional.” Becky looks at my dad. “No offense.”

  He smiles. “None taken.”

  “When she asks you if you’ll marry her, you can take the ring out and surprise her right back,” Becky says.

  Dad runs his hand over his head the way he always does when he’s trying to process something. “It could work.”

  “You think?” I ask him.

  Dad shrugs. “It hasn’t worked the other seventy-two times I’ve asked, but what’s one more try?” He laughs but stops himself before it turns into a coughing fit.

  “It’s a good thing they say the seventy-third time is the charm,” Becky says.

  I shake my head. “No one says that.”

  “Well, maybe they’ll start now.” Dad smiles and I realize this is the happiest I’ve seen him since before he got sick. Or at least since he taught me how to drive—he did seem pretty happy that day. After we got back home, he slept for, like, thirteen hours. He can’t get that tired now.

  “We should let you rest, Dad.” I give Becky a look that lets her know I’m not messing around.

  “Your daughter, the triple threat,” Becky says. “Actress, chef, and now, nurse.”

  “She’s the boss,” Dad says.

  Becky stands and offers Dad a hand. He takes it and lets her help him up.

  Before he gets back into his bed, he folds Aunt Becky into a hug and whispers something in her ear. It’s probably just something like thank you, but I liked it better when I didn’t worry about respecting his privacy.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Alexis

  Wow,” CeCe says as she walks into the living room at Jill’s.

  I look down at my dress, wishing there were a mirror nearby. “Good wow or bad wow?”

  “Good. Great. The best,” my daughter, who has never in her life given me a sincere compliment, says. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” Jack says. I reach back to swat him but miss.

  “You don’t look like yourself,” CeCe says, slightly spoiling the compliment.

  “Thank you?”

  “You know I didn’t mean it like that.” CeCe rolls her eyes and perches on the edge of the couch. “Dad’s outside—I told him you were going to come help him get into the backyard.”

  “Okay.” I take a deep breath and smooth out my dress even though there isn’t a single wrinkle in the off-white fabric. It’s not a wedding dress per se, but it’s white-ish, it’s flattering, and it’s the best we could find on such short notice.

  It was CeCe’s idea that I propose to Tommy before springing the whole wedding on him. I have to admit, there’s something perfect about turning the tables on him, and it will give him a chance to catch his breath and wrap his head around the whole thing.

  “Hold these for me?” I hand CeCe the bouquet of yellow roses with red tips. The kind of flower Tommy’s been bringing me since I told him once upon a time that they symbolize friendship turning into love.

  “Break a leg, Mom.”

  I give CeCe a kiss on the cheek before walking toward the front door where Jill is waiting. She smiles and brushes a tear from her eye.

  “Stop,” I warn her. “If you cry, I’ll cry.”

  “Don’t you dare,” Jack says, coming up behind us both. “I didn’t spend an hour on your makeup just so you could ruin it.”

  I nod and try to blink the tears away, although we might want to hurry and snap a few pictures, because I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to hold them back.

  “Dad’s waiting,” CeCe says.

  I open the door and step outside where my Romeo is waiting in his wheelchair, wearing his old tux, now more than a few sizes too big. I glance behind me at Jill and CeCe, looking as eager and excited as I feel.

  “You’re a little overdressed for a barbecue,” I say, walking toward him.

  “What, this old thing?” Tommy’s smile still melts my heart. I don’t know what I was thinking saying no to this man for all these years.

  “So you know?” I ask.

  “Know what?” he teases. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

  “Thank you.”

  Tommy laughs and I know what he’s thinking—I’ve finally learned how to accept a compliment. I take his hands in mine and bend down so I can look into those beautiful mismatched eyes. They draw me in and all the words I’d planned to say disappear.

  “Yes,” Tommy says before I have a chance to gather my thoughts enough to ask the question.

  “Not yet.” I take a deep breath and speak straight from my heart. “All those years ago, you told me to stay, to stop running away. You said life is going to be tough no matter where I went, and that some things were worth sticking around for. And that’s you. You’re worth sticking around for, and I want to spend the rest of the time we have together as your wife.”

  “Yes,” Tommy says again.

  “Not yet.” I laugh through the tears that I’ve given up trying to stop. “Tommy Whistler, will you marry me?”

  “Now?” he asks and I nod. “Then yes. The answer has always been yes.”

  I lean over to kiss him and hear a round of applause coming from our spectators just inside the open door.

  “If I knew this was all it took to convince you, I would have gotten cancer years ago.”

  “Not today,” I plead, standing back up. “We’ve got a wedding to get to.”

  “Not so fast,” Tommy says. He reaches into the pocket of his jacket and pulls out a ring box. “This i
s a two-way street, baby.”

  I smile, feeling for a moment like an ordinary bride on the happiest day of her life. Tommy opens the box to reveal the exact ring I would have picked out for myself. It sparkles in the sun, almost as much as his tired eyes.

  “Alexis Gold, will you do me the honor of making me the happiest dying man in the world by becoming my wife?”

  “What took you so long?” I tease.

  He laughs and slips the ring on my finger. It fits perfectly, just the way we do. I lean in for another kiss, but out of the corner of my eye, I see a flash of hot pink.

  “Becky?”

  “Hey, buttercup,” she says, as casually as if she’s walking into our office, not standing in front of Jill’s house in Destin. She snaps a flurry of pictures with her fancy camera before coming through the front gate.

  “How?” I ask, speechless again.

  “Tommy said you needed a photographer,” she says. “And you know I couldn’t miss this.”

  “Thank you.” I walk over to give her a hug and hold on tight. I didn’t realize just how much I missed her. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

  “Me, too, lovey. Now let’s get you married before you change your mind.”

  “Never.” I look from her down to my fiancé. “Let’s do this.”

  Jack takes the cue, joining us out front to wheel Tommy around to the backyard, where Blake and Abigail have been hard at work all afternoon.

  Tommy blows me a kiss as they disappear around the corner, and I wonder how it’s possible to feel so lucky and unlucky at the same time.

  “Ready, Mom?” CeCe stands in the open doorway; she’s changed into her maid of honor dress and looks more like a woman than my little girl. The dress is a little too short and a little too tight for my taste, but I’m learning to pick my battles.

  “You look beautiful.” I kiss her cheek as I walk past her into the house. “And nice job getting your dad involved.”

  “It wasn’t me!”

  I follow her stare and look at Jill, standing in the kitchen doorway with a guilty grin on her face. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

  “I love you.” I give her a hug. “Now let’s get me married!”

  Becky captures a picture of the moment before introducing herself. “You must be Jill.”

 

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