The Wedding Report

by Daria White

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Call me if you need me.”

  With that, she hung up and placed her phone back on her bedside table. Tapping her fingers to her lips, Chantelle stood to her feet and grabbed her laptop. Opening it up to her saved article, she wrote. Her vision blurred as she typed. The keys clicked in her ears, but she pushed through until she came to a stopping point.

  Should she send it to Brenda? Her fingers hovered over her keyboard. Was this story even worth sharing? It was, but what if it wasn't just for The Wedding Report?

  She pushed her laptop to the side and grabbed her phone once more. She scrolled through her favorites and found Lance’s name.

  5:26 PM… Chantelle: I’m sorry

  Locking her phone, she walked to her closet and grabbed her shoes. With her keys in hand, she heard music coming from the kitchen. Peeking around the corner and through the doorway, she saw her mother dancing with Douglas.

  The Temptations “My Girl” hummed through her ears, and she couldn’t hide the grin on her lips as she watched her mother glow from being in her husband’s arms. Pressing a hand to her chest, she stepped out the front door and to her rental car. Clutching the keys, she contemplated on where to go.

  Instead, she stuffed the keys in her pocket and walked down the street. She came across an empty parking lot, only to notice the bushes and trees framing the lot. Chantelle looked up at the streetlights and power lines overhead, only to look down at the blue paint designating parking spots. She listened as the traffic moved past, an airplane flew overhead, and leaves rustled in the breeze. Wrapping her arms around herself, she continued on the street.

  How would she fix this? Licking her lips, she walked further down the street. She passed the post office and the police station and heard the honk of a horn. Coming to a four-way stop, she tapped her foot on the pavement. What more could she do?

  Before she noticed it, she walked in downtown Delta Heights. The one place that felt like home was only a few blocks away. Delta Heights Press. She paced to the front door, feeling the rush of cool air from the air conditioning.

  Mr. Perkins stood a few feet away. His eyes brightened. “Chantelle?”

  “Do you have a minute?” She clutched her phone in her hand.

  He led the way to his office, and Chantelle made herself comfortable in the chair. He had a cup of coffee on his desk. There was always a coffee smell with Mr. Perkins.

  “What can I do for you?” He rolled the sleeves up on his gray collared shirt. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

  She gave a faint smile. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said.”

  He sat at his desk and folded his hands on the top. “Does this have to do with the story going around town?”

  Chantelle’s mouth twisted into a grin. “You could always smell a story. Nothing gets past you.”

  He smiled. “I wish it did now, but you have to know this town thinks the world of you.”

  “I know.” Her fingers grazed over her phone. “I have an idea.” She leaned in closer to his desk. “I want the town to know the truth. At first I didn’t think it was anyone’s business, but I want to take back control. It’s hurting too many people. Including Lance.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  Chantelle opened her phone to her email. “I finished my story. It didn’t turn out the way I thought, but I want Delta Heights Press to have a copy.”

  “What about your job?”

  She shrugged. “I think I’m as good as fired. Besides, this isn’t what I was sending them. This is about Lance and me.”

  “Well...” Mr. Perkins rubbed at his stubble chin as he perused her article. “We haven’t gone to print yet. I think this can be our feature story on our website by tomorrow.”

  Chantelle raised an eyebrow. Just like old times.

  ***

  Lance packed his office the following evening. His resignation was effective immediately instead of waiting for the rest of his notice. His cell rang nonstop from reporters wanting the news on his canceled engagement. Never in a million years did he predict a scandal.

  He’d only been off the phone for five minutes and his phone rang again. Lance didn’t want to talk to another reporter, so he hit decline on his cell. Damage control was getting to him.

  Most didn’t want the truth, anyway. They only wanted him to confirm the rumors. Was Chantelle pregnant? How long had he been cheating on Andrea? It rattled his brain. Why did people love drama?

  When his front door opened, he saw his father in the doorway. Lance’s jaw clenched, but he resumed packing his cardboard box.

  “Any concerns with the contract I should know about?” His father asked.

  “None. I left everything on your desk.”

  His father stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You’re not changing your mind?”

  “No, I’m not.” He grabbed the photo of him and Amelia.

  “Have you read today’s paper?”

  “I’ve read enough from the press.” If he heard another word against Chantelle, he may rant on Facebook like everyone else was doing. Why shouldn’t they get a piece of his mind?

  “I think you should, son. It explains everything.” His father cleared his throat. “It explains things I never understood. I guess... I didn’t want to.”

  His father was getting personal? On the job? What article was he talking about?

  “For what it’s worth...” His father paused. Was that remorse in his eyes? Lance had never seen him this vulnerable. “Your mother and I are sorry.”

  He stepped back out into the hall, but Lance called out to him.

  “Dad?”

  His father pivoted to face him. “Yes?”

  “Thanks.” That’s all he had, and it seemed to please his father. The moment shocked Lance. He didn’t know what else to say.

  His dad disappeared into the hallway, and Lance rubbed his eyes. Did he hear correctly? His father apologized. Perhaps he needed to pull up the article and read it. He looked outside his office window, noting the grayish cast to the light. People with umbrellas walked up and down the sidewalk, and a few holes and hollows formed puddles.

  Then his phone jumbled on the table. Andrea?

  “Can I call you back?” He asked. “I’m packing up my office.”

  “Have you been on social media? This is a mess.”

  “I’ve seen a few comments. It’ll blow over.” The thought sounded good.

  “I think you and I need to issue a statement.”

  “Who leaked the story, Andrea? Do you know?” He asked.

  Silence.

  “Andrea?”

  “I fired him so it’s over,” she said.

  “Fired whom?”

  “It was my agent, Lance. He said he did it to boost my career. He thought the public would sympathize with me,” Andrea said.

  Adrenaline rushed through Lance’s body. Then he pushed his rolling office chair back, only for it to hit his bookshelf. He paced the floor with his phone in hand. “Have you said anything?”

  “I’ve gone off the grid. The comments are too much. Someone even commented that it was my fault and I’m too independent. Ugh! People!”

  “Calm down. I know the feeling.” He rubbed at his chin. “When are you talking about releasing a statement?”

  “I have a new agent and she thinks the sooner the better. She thinks a live interview on my page will work. I have more followers on Instagram so I can turn the comments off.”

  “I don’t care to be on camera.”

  She sighed. “What else can we do?”

  Lance rubbed the back of his head. “What about a regular interview? I’m sure there are tons of magazines wanting your statement.”

  “They do.”

  “Tell them you’ll give them an interview on one condition. They print what you and I saw verbatim. Any deviation and they get no exclusive.”

  “There is one reporter that reached out that I like. She claims sh
e can have the story up by this evening. She runs her own magazine, so she has more control.”

  “That’ll work.” Lance’s phone beeped with a text from Grant.

  6:30 PM... Grant: Read this. NOW.

  Lance added. “I’ll send you my comments and you can relay them to her.”

  “Perfect.” Andrea groaned. “I’m so sorry, Lance.”

  He pulled up the article from Grant. Was this the same story that his father mentioned? “Me too. It’s going to be okay. Take care.” He hung up and read the article.

  If you’re reading this, then you know Lance Taylor’s engagement to Andrea Williams is over. Some blame me. I can’t fault them. I had a history with Lance, but once you hear our story, I hope you find compassion in your heart. If not, I told the truth.

  I met Lance when I was in high school. We were friends at first, but things changed once he lost his sister. Amelia Taylor. You know her. Best swimmer in town!

  Lance and I made our share of mistakes. He did the right thing in asking me to marry him, but we were told we were too young. Another tragedy broke our hearts ten years ago. I left after he told me it would be better.

  We didn’t fight for each other back then, but I moved on thinking it was best. Coming back here, I took a chance when I saw him again. It didn’t bother me at first that he was marrying someone else, but I fell in love with him all over again. He felt the same way. We didn’t go behind anyone’s back.

  I wanted to do the right thing. So did Lance. He and Andrea parted ways on their own. I didn’t break them up. The only thing I’m guilty of is loving a man whose family thought I wasn’t good enough for him. I may never be, but if you’ve ever lost a love and had the chance to win it back, would you take it?

  I love this town and the people. You gave me my first chance as a writer in Delta Heights. I don’t know if I’ll stay or go, but this place is home.

  Lance clutched his phone. Chantelle. Where was she? Looking through his other messages, he saw hers from the other day. How did he miss it? Lance packed the rest of his things in a hurry. He wasn’t losing her again.

  Chapter 26

  Chantelle looked over the grassy fields one more time. Wild grass and weeds grew at the shoulders and in the ditches. Pebbles bounced along the road while she listened to the whinnying of horses in the nearby field. Dry dust and grass seeped through her nose and she licked her lips to relieve her dry mouth.

  She almost ignored the call from Brenda, but it was better to face the truth. What surprised her was they didn’t fire her. They appreciated her honesty in her article and wanted her to stay with them.

  “You’re kidding?” Chantelle tucked the curls behind her ear as they blew in the wind.

  “I’m serious. The board doesn’t want to lose one of its best writers. Congratulations!”

  Chantelle only sighed. “Thank you. I appreciate it, but...”

  “But what? Chantelle, I thought this was what you wanted? You’re climbing up the ladder. I’ll even give you more freedom with your articles and—”

  “I quit.”

  “You what?” Brenda sounded like she was choking.

  “I quit. My resignation is effective immediately. I’ll be back soon to pick up my things.”

  “Why? I thought this was your dream. You’ve worked so hard,” Brenda said.

  “I have. I’ve made sacrifices and compromises, but the magazine is not for me anymore. I’ve grown a lot since I’ve been back home. I can’t lose that.”

  “Are you sure?” Her boss asked.

  “I’m sure.”

  Brenda sighed. “I guess I can’t do anything to change your mind.”

  “No, you can’t. I’m glad you enjoyed my article, but it is my last one for The Wedding Report.”

  “We will miss you around here. I wish you all the best,” Brenda said.

  “Thank you. Take care.” She hung up, feeling free. It was the right thing to do. She hadn’t told her mom yet that she was moving back home, but she was sure her mother would shriek with excitement.

  How would Lance take the news? She hadn’t heard from him since he stopped by the house. Was he still upset? Chantelle rolled her eyes. Why wouldn’t he still be angry?

  Sitting on the hood of her car, she stared at the sunset. The structures and landscapes became silhouetted. The trees swayed, and the leaves fluttered. Rubbing her arms, she thought of calling him. What would she say?

  Her head jerked as a car sped down the road, causing gravel to sputter underneath the tires. Lance? She jumped to the ground. Did something else happen?

  She heard him cut the engine, and he rushed to her after shutting the driver door.

  Chantelle’s eyes widened. “Are you alright?”

  He only touched her face, cradling her cheeks. “You didn’t leave?”

  “No, why would I?”

  His hands dropped from her face. “I don’t know. I had a flashback. I’m sorry for doubting you.”

  She gave a slight smile. “We’re always apologizing to each other, huh?”

  “I read your article.”

  Her lips parted.

  “That was brave. I guess your connections at the paper still work.”

  She responded. “They do, now that I own it.”

  He grinned. “You do?”

  “It won’t be official until Mr. Perkins retires at the end of the month, but he’s getting the paperwork together for me to sign. He’s signing the deed over to me.” She bounced on her toes. “I own my very own newspaper!”

  Lance picked her up and hugged her, twirling her body around. Chantelle hugged him tight.

  “That’s great.” He broke their embrace.

  “Thanks. Is that... why you came?”

  “No.” He chuckled. “I knew what I wanted to say. Now, it’s all out the window.”

  “I am sorry about all of this. I—”

  “It was Andrea’s former agent. He thought the scandal would further her career. We both released a statement. It should be out no later than tomorrow. Perhaps tonight.”

  “What did you say?” She wrung her hands together.

  He inched closer. “The same thing you said in yours. I love you.”

  Her chest swelled with pride. “How did your parents take it?”

  He blew out his cheeks. “We have a long way to go, but nothing, not even them, is keeping me away from you. Not this time.”

  “Good.”

  He wrapped his arms around her waist. “So now that you own the Delta Heights Press, how soon will you be moving here?”

  She snaked her arms around his neck. “Soon. Especially since the lease on my apartment is almost up.”

  “Did you plan that?”

  She poked out her lips, and he laughed. Then his look turned serious.

  “What?” She asked. “Did something else happen?”

  “I uh... have yet to cancel everything for the wedding. Some stuff is nonrefundable.”

  Her stomach rolled. “I can’t imagine how much you’re losing with that. I wish I could help.”

  “I think you can.” He stepped back and got down on one knee.

  Chantelle froze in place as he held her hand. “Lance? What are you doing?”

  He faced downward at the gravel, but when his gaze met hers, she saw the affection in his eyes.

  Lance cleared his throat. “The first time I asked you to marry me, it was out of fear. I loved you, but I didn’t know what that fully meant.” He paused. “I can’t tell you the pain I felt losing you. Losing everything.”

  Chantelle’s bottom lip quivered.

  “But now you’re here. It was as if everything became clear all over again. I knew what I was doing then.” He reached into his pocket. Letting go of her hand, he opened the black velvet box. It had the same style as her first ring, but with more diamonds. “There’s ten total. Nine small diamonds surrounding the main one. For every year, I was without you.”

  “Lance...” Why couldn’t she find the words? H
er chest swelled with love for him, and her hands only trembled as he took her left hand and slid the platinum ring on her ring finger.

  “I always have and always will be in love with you, Chantelle Woods. Will you marry me? Again?”

  Her mind said it was too soon. They were to get to know each other as adults. Yet, as he kneeled before her, only one thing remained. Chantelle wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

  “Yes! Yes!” She bounced on her toes.

  Lance rushed to his feet and kissed her, nearly knocking the breath out of her lungs. Chantelle hugged him closer, pressing her lips against his. Her fingers caressed the back of his head. He didn’t rush, but kissed her slowly, making sure he didn’t miss one curve of her mouth.

  Chantelle was his. She’d always been his, and now they would make it official. Again.

  “One more thing.” Lance mumbled in between kisses.

  “What?” She rested her hands on his shoulders.

  “Only if you want to since I know we’re the talk of the press.” He sighed. “The only difference about this wedding is... the bride won’t be Andrea.”

  Chantelle’s mouth dropped. “You want me to—”

  “It crossed my mind.” He touched her face. “I’ve waited ten years, Chantelle. It doesn’t matter to me. I love you. I don’t see the point in waiting anymore.”

  She smiled, but the thought unnerved her. “I know. I love you too, but it doesn’t seem right with everything going on. I think that would give the press an even bigger reason to hate me if they see me in her place at the wedding.”

  His hand moved to her chin. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

  She clasped his hand. “We can’t control what people think or say, Lance. Face it, you’re in the public eye, and this comes with the territory.”

  “If only we could get away from it all,” he said.

  “I know.” She sighed, but then an idea popped in her head. “I think there’s a way for you to get your money’s worth and what we want at the same time.”

  He raised an eyebrow, as if intrigued. “How’s that?”