The Wedding Report

by Daria White

  “So far so good.”

  “I’m also including a photo of you at the tailor’s shop. Is that okay?”

  Lance rubbed the back of his head. “That’s fine. What else?”

  “I won’t mention June. I have it to where you and Andrea want to work together on your wedding. You don’t want too many outside influences.”

  He bobbed his head. “I agree. Anything else?”

  A hmm escaped her mouth as if she were thinking. “It’s still missing something, Lance.”

  “What?” He asked.

  “The spark. It excites the public that you’re settling down, but I’m certain they’ll want more romance. Are there any recent photos I can use of you and Andrea? The ones I have are prior to the proposal.”

  As he suspected, it came up. The public wanted more appearances. He hoped Andrea showed soon. They couldn’t stay apart for too long.

  “I’ll get those to you as soon as I can. I’m not a selfie guy compared to Andrea,” he said.

  “Just a couple of photos I think will work. The rest can be at the wedding.”

  He sighed. “Thank you, Chantelle. I appreciate your consideration in all of this.”

  “You’re welcome. How was your trip? When will you be back?”

  “The trip went well. Got some business done. I’ll be back tomorrow. I hope I’m not too jet lagged.”

  “You should rest, Lance.”

  “I’m getting married on top of everything else, Chantelle. There’s no slowing down for me.”

  “I disagree. You need to take care of yourself. You won’t be any good to anyone if you’re sick or too tired to work,” she said.

  He chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind as I close this deal.”

  “Is it intense?”

  “Are you asking as a reporter or a friend?”

  “A friend, Lance. You know that. I still care about you.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment, imagining her soft eyes filled with an inner glow. Her voice was sweet as a tune. Her eyes as deep as the desert skies. They saw through him every time. Even when she frustrated him, he could get lost in her eyes.

  His body released all tension. His heart felt full. Lance rubbed at his throat. When did it get warm in his room? He walked over to the wall and adjusted the thermostat. “Thank you. I uh… I should get some sleep. Your notes and ideas sound great. We’ll go from there.”

  “When will I get to talk to Andrea?”

  “I’ll let you know.”

  “Thank you.”

  He needed to hang up. “Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  ***

  Chantelle sat at her mother’s kitchen table with a cup of chamomile tea. After getting off the phone with Lance, she couldn’t sleep, so herbal tea was her best bet. She sipped the hot liquid she’d sweetened with honey. It warmed her from the inside and she sighed as her muscles relaxed.

  Lance would be okay, although he didn’t sound too enthused about her notes on her article. She couldn’t help but wonder. What was it about Andrea that made him propose?

  If Lance were happy, wouldn’t it show? Chantelle knew what love looked like. She saw it when her late father kissed her mother on the cheek every morning before leaving for work. He didn’t say much, but he didn’t have a problem writing love notes to her mother and leaving it on the table.

  Chantelle had sneaked in the kitchen one time and read the folded notebook paper. Her father’s scripted words to her mother warmed her heart. All he wrote had been, “I love you more than you know.”

  She pressed a hand to her chest, recalling her father’s sweet gestures. Would she ever stop missing him? Chantelle straightened in her seat as Douglas entered the kitchen. He walked to the stainless steel refrigerator and poured himself a glass of milk. He stopped in his tracks when he spotted her.

  “I didn’t see you there. Everything okay?” He asked.

  Chantelle bobbed her head. “I couldn’t sleep.” She held up her cup. “I thought some tea might help.” Cocking her head to the side, she asked, “What brings you here?”

  “I couldn’t help myself.” He grabbed the covered cake plate on the counter. “Your mother’s yellow cake was calling my name.” He winked at Chantelle. “I waited until she fell asleep.”

  A giggle escaped her lips. “That chocolate frosting makes it that much better.”

  “Your mother is a genius in the kitchen.” Douglas cut himself a piece, grabbed a fork, and then brought his plate over to the table, taking a seat across from Chantelle.

  “You want to share?” He asked.

  She gave a faint smile but shook her head. “No, thank you. I should go to bed.”

  “Something on your mind?”

  She rubbed the back of her neck. Was she that transparent? “Work is work.”

  “Your mother’s proud of you.” He made eye contact with her. “So am I.”

  “Thank you.” She swallowed the rest of her hot tea and scooted her chair away from the table. “I appreciate it, Douglas.”

  He smiled, and the corner of his eyes crinkled. “I’m glad you stayed with us.”

  Staying with her new stepfather while retaining the memories of her father proved harder than she knew. Chantelle thought of staying in the bed-and-breakfast in town, but she wouldn’t disappoint her mother.

  “Chantelle?”

  She stood in front of the sink as she washed her cup and spoon. “I guess…”

  “Guess what?”

  “It brings back so many memories. Being back home. This is the longest I’ve stayed in this house since my dad…” It was true. The times she’d visited before were only for the weekends.

  Chantelle heard Douglas’ chair scrape the floor as he came over to her. “I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now.”

  A tsk noise escaped her mouth. “Everyone keeps saying that. They’ve been saying it since the funeral.”

  Douglas continued. “I don’t want to replace him, but you know I love your mother. Right?”

  Chantelle turned off the water and dried her hands. Douglas was telling the truth. She knew that much. She looked up at him, folding her arms over her chest. “I know you do, but having you here is… different.”

  He bobbed his head. “I understand.”

  “I promise I’m getting better.” She stared at the table where she and her father used to talk all the time as a girl. She’d never forget the conversation, asking him when a person knew they were in love. “Sometimes it’s as if it happened yesterday.”

  Douglas held out his hand to her. Chantelle placed hers in his. They both turned their backs and leaned against the counter facing the window. Streams of moonlight peaked through the small curtains.

  “Losing a parent is never easy,” he said.

  Chantelle looked over at him. “Mom told me you lost your mother right after you two met.”

  Douglas nodded. “It was the worst pain I had felt in a long time.” Then he looked over at her. “Being with your mother helped me.”

  Chantelle smiled. “She’s the best.”

  Douglas paused. Did he want to say more?

  She squinted her eyes at him. “Did my mom give you the rundown on me and Lance?”

  “She shared a few things with me, but I never pressed for details.” He looked over at her. “I figured if you wanted me to know, you’d tell me yourself.”

  To her surprise, she didn’t let go of her sted-dad’s hand. Somehow it brought solace. “Let’s just say... we were young. We’re older now, and hopefully the wiser for it.”

  Douglas chuckled.

  “What?”

  “You’re beyond your years, Chantelle. Few people your age think like that.”

  She shrugged. “I know. Not too many people understand me.” Lance did, but that was a long time ago.

  “Sometimes, all you need is one,” Douglas said.

  “What is going on in here?” Chantelle’s mother asked with her hands on her hips. “Douglas,
have you been in my cake?”

  His mouth fell open since the evidence was on the table.

  “On that note,” Chantelle said. “Good night, everyone.” She covered her mouth with her hand, stifling her giggles as she hurried to her bedroom.

  Chapter 17

  “Thanks Dottie.” Lance handed her his suit jacket and tie.

  “I have lunch prepared in the kitchen for you. I would take a good nap too. You look tired.”

  He smiled and walked into his kitchen. His mouth watered at the turkey sandwich on the island. Settling into one of the bar stools, he bit into the soft bread. He moaned in satisfaction, and the gnawing in his stomach ceased once he swallowed. Then his cell rang. He dug into his back pocket and answered.

  “What’s up?” He put the person on speaker phone.

  “How was your trip?” Grant asked.

  “Nothing much. I have to close this deal whether or not I like it.”

  “What's holding it up?”

  “People losing their jobs. You know I don’t like that. People work hard for what they have.”

  “Says the man that grew up with money.” Grant chuckled.

  Lance didn’t laugh.

  “Sorry, man,” he said. “Only a joke.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Lance? What’s up? Is this getting too much for you?”

  He rubbed at his eyebrow. “Sorry, I guess it is. Andrea and I don’t seem to agree much either.”

  “She’s not back yet?”

  “No. You know her modeling gigs keep her busy, but she’s working on it. I’m trying to get her down here.”

  “You need a guys’ night out. I’m calling Pete and Craig.”

  “Grant—”

  “Think of it as your ‘pre-bachelor party.’ It’ll be fun, and since Pete owns the bar in town, the drinks will be on him.”

  Lance chuckled at his friend. Once he hung up, he headed for the shower to wash away the flight. Changing into jeans and a t-shirt, he walked back to his room. He didn’t have to go into the office today. Staring around his bedroom, he spotted his laptop on his desk.

  He could read over the contracts, but he pinched the bridge of his nose as the clock ticked on the wall. No work today. So, Lance changed into his gym clothes, grabbed his phone and keys, and headed out the door.

  Driving to the community center, he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. There would be more kids at the center since school was officially out. Lance could play ball with them. It would relieve the tension in his neck. Pulling into the parking lot, he cut the engine and jogged to the door.

  The heat beat down on his head, but the rush of cool air once opening the front door relieved him. Lance greeted Sadie in the hall, who was pinning a flyer to the board.

  “Lance.” Her eyes beamed. “I didn’t expect you today.”

  “I just flew back from New York.”

  Sadie rubbed her bump. “Why are you here? I would get some rest.”

  Lance stared at her stomach, but diverted his eyes back to her. “I wanted to stop by. I won’t stay too long if you want to get rid of me.”

  She giggled. “No, I’m glad you’re here. We had uh... an incident.”

  Lance raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

  “Zane. He’s in the office. He started a fight.”

  Lance wrung his hands together. “Want me to have a word with him?”

  Sadie gestured to the room. Lance walked over and opened the door, noticing the eleven-year-old boy sitting in the corner. His knees were to his chest and his head hung low.

  Lance knocked on the door. “Can I come in?”

  Zane didn’t answer.

  Lance inched closer. “I heard there was a fight. Want to talk about it?”

  “No.” Zane didn’t look at him, but Lance could hear the pain in his voice.

  Lance sat on the vinyl floor across from the boy, cross-legged. How could he not see himself in Zane? Wanting to shut out the world. Wanting to get away and be his own person. He couldn’t relate to Zane’s situation fully, but he could try.

  “This wouldn’t have anything to do with your dad, would it?” Lance tried again.

  Zane didn’t respond.

  Lance leaned in closer. “You can talk to me, Zane. You know that.”

  The boy wiped his nose. “He left. Mom says he’s not coming back.”

  Lance’s skin prickled. He never understood some fathers abandoning their children. “I hate to hear that. Is that what started the fight?”

  Zane nodded. “Andre said my dad didn’t want me. I hit him.”

  Lance rubbed his chin. “I’ll have a talk with Andre, but you know that’s not true. I’m sure your dad loves you.”

  “You sound like my mom. She said he’s going through a lot and needs time. But...”

  “But what?” Lance asked.

  “Did I do something? Did he leave because of me?”

  Lance shook his head. “I don’t believe that.” He sighed. “Adults do things sometimes that kids don’t understand. I think the best thing you can do is to be there for your mom.”

  Zane nodded.

  Lance gave a slight smile. “So, how about you go to the restroom and clean your face. I’ll have a talk with Andre.” He held out his fist, and the boy bumped it with his.

  Zane got up on his feet and walked into the hall. Lance met Sadie outside the door.

  “Nicely done,” she said.

  Lance smiled. “I try.”

  “I think you will make a great dad one day. I hope Andrea knows she’s getting a catch.” Sadie patted his arm and walked back to her desk.

  Lance released a deep breath. Him. A father. He rubbed at his neck, ignoring the constricting in his throat. “I’ll be back. I need to talk to Andre.”

  ***

  Sitting at the bar, Lance watched as blenders whirred with colorful concoctions. Customers talking over sports, laughing, along with the clinking of ice in highball glasses filled his ears. He detected nachos and hot wings in the air, but settled for a nearby bowl of pretzels.

  A guys’ night was a good way to unwind. He didn’t have to think about work. Andrea. Chantelle. He could relax with his friends.

  He had blocked out Sadie’s words. I think you will make a great dad. After talking with Andre, he had the two boys shake hands. By the time Lance left, the boys were playing basketball again on the court outside.

  Was that a sign he could be a good parent? He didn’t know. Lance sipped from his glass. The cold liquid relieved his dry mouth.

  “Feeling better?” Grant asked, slapping him on the back.

  “Sure.” Lance bobbed his head.

  His friend on the other end of the bar, Craig, rubbed at his buzzed haircut. “I got news. I may propose to Sylvia.”

  “There goes another one,” Pete said, clinking his glass with Craig’s. “Am I the only one pledging bachelorhood?”

  Grant pointed to Lance. “He did and look at him now. Nailed himself a supermodel.”

  “I’ll toast to that,” Pete said. “Andrea is gorgeous.”

  “Get your own woman.” Lance joked, knowing his friend meant no harm.

  “Does she have sisters?” Pete asked.

  Lance shook his head. “Only child.”

  “All this time…” Craig said, “I thought Lance would marry Chantelle.”

  Choking on his drink, Lance coughed at the comment. They didn’t know the full story. Not like Grant did. Craig and Pete knew of his past relationship with Chantelle, but not the marriage or the baby. He had Grant swear to secrecy despite it testing their friendship.

  Grant patted his back. “What are you trying to do?” He asked Craig. “Kill the man?”

  Craig raised his hands in a surrendered gesture. “They were close at one time, but if she’s not taken, maybe—”

  “Didn’t you say you would propose to Sylvia?” Grant asked.

  Craig pointed to Pete. “I was talking about this guy. Perhaps she can get him to settle d
own.”

  “She’s gorgeous too.” Pete smiled. “Sweet.”

  “She’s off limits,” Grant said.

  “That’s not fair!” Pete exclaimed.

  Lance swallowed his drink in one gulp. Chantelle with another man. A burning sensation took over his chest, and his muscles tightened. He figured she had dated, but she’d been out of sight. He didn’t live in Chicago, so he didn’t have to see her with another man. Dating one of his friends? How would he accept that?

  He wanted her to be happy. She’d been through enough. If he was moving on, she could too and yet... he knew deep down she would always be his girl. Lance would never admit it to Andrea.

  “I guess someone already beat you to it, Pete.” Craig pointed out as his head gestured to the booths on the other side of the bar. The group spotted Chantelle sitting across from another man. Lance’s lips parted.

  “I guess there’s that,” Pete said.

  “Since when does she know Javier?” Grant asked.

  “Javier?” Craig replied. “He used to work at the car dealership in town. He’s cool.”

  “What does he do now?” Pete asked.

  “An artist, I think.” Craig added.

  Lance ignored the pain in his clenching jaw. If only Chantelle didn’t throw her head back with laughter. Did Javier reach for her hand? He blinked. She was a grown woman. Lance could look out for her, right? Nothing more.

  He remembered Javier. They even spoke from time to time, but seeing him with Chantelle brought up memories. Sometimes he spotted Chantelle talking to him in high school. Javier had eyes for her then. Not much had changed.

  “I’ll leave her alone,” Grant said.

  “Want me to check it out?” Lance asked. The group stared, and he shrugged. “What?”

  “She’s your ex. You don’t think that’ll be obvious.” Pete pointed out.

  Grant sighed. “Don’t worry about it. I’m glad she’s getting out there. She deserves happiness and not worrying about her job all the time.”

  “Her job’s not going well?” Lance figured that was all behind her. Was something else going on that Chantelle didn’t tell him?

  Grant sipped from his glass. “She claims no one takes her seriously.”