by Loretta Lost
“Helen, where have you been?” Liam calls out when he sees me. “James just arrived! Almost everyone’s here.”
Liam looks so excited as he holds a wine glass in one hand, and wraps the other arm around the shoulder of his judo teacher. James smiles and waves at me, and I smile back before glancing at Owen. He looks very anxious as he stands beside Carmen, with his arms crossed and his eyebrows knitted. I give him a small nod to indicate that I was successful, and some of the tension leaves his shoulders.
“I was just getting some last minute writing done,” I say as I reach the bottom of the staircase. I couldn’t very well tell Liam that I was making phone calls to California and trying to convince a complete stranger to come to our wedding.
“You need to give the writing a break!” Liam says with a laugh. He turns to James and the other guests with a shake of his head. “I swear, she intentionally does this to drive me crazy. When Helen actually sets aside time to sit down and write, she procrastinates and does anything but write. But try to get her to go outside or do anything at all, and it’s a writing bonanza. Take her to the gym, and she’s suddenly sitting on a weight lifting bench and writing on her phone.”
“That sounds like my little girl,” my father says fondly.
“I’m not really that bad,” I say a little defensively. “But I don’t see why I shouldn’t take advantage of the fact that I can work from anywhere!”
“She was writing the whole time yesterday when we got our pedicures,” Carmen adds with a laugh. “So much for spending quality time with my sister!”
“You were on your phone, too,” I say glumly.
“I think it’s great,” Leslie adds. “I feel less guilty about making my patients wait when they actually have things to do in the waiting room, and don’t just despise me for wasting their time. Really, they’re just wasting their own time by not bringing something productive to do.”
“Exactly!” I say with an enthusiastic nod. “Life is too short to waste precious energy not working hard, or playing hard—and when you’re too exhausted from all of that, then you can rest.”
“Wait until you get older,” Leslie says with a smile. “You’ll have to add ‘relaxing hard’ to your list of things to do.”
Liam nods. “I’ve already had to do that. Sleeping pills.”
“I am pretty sure that’s just for doctors. Writing is already somewhat relaxing. Unless I’m on a deadline,” I tell them with a smile.
“Don’t go near her when she’s on a deadline,” Liam warns. “The whole world ceases to exist, and all that matters is her story. Sometimes I think that if I didn’t feed her, she would chew off one of my limbs and go back to writing.”
Everyone laughs at this, and I nudge Liam with my elbow, sending him a glare for making fun of me.
“That’s why I always say that writers are totally insane,” says a new voice from the doorway.
“David!” I say with excitement, moving to greet him. I am intending to give him a hug until I notice that there is a leash in his hand, and another old friend is trotting up the path to the house. Dropping to my knees, I extend my arms to the puppy. “Snowball!” I exclaim, completely forgetting that I am wearing an expensive cocktail dress that Carmen picked out for me.
The puppy jumps into my arms and begins licking my face, destroying the makeup that Carmen carefully applied earlier. Laughing, I hug her against me and stand up. “Is she my wedding present?” I ask David. “Do I get my dog back now?”
“Sure, but if you hear about some guy on the news who hung himself because he couldn’t cope with losing his wife, his dog, and his new dog, then you’ll know it’s me.”
Rolling my eyes, I turn back to look at the room full of our guests. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet David Duncan. He’s a painter who obviously has issues, obviously needs therapy, and really should stop stealing people’s dogs.”
Snowball yips in agreement.
“At your service,” David says with a mock bow.
“Good to see you again, man,” Liam says, moving forward to shake David’s hand. “You remember Owen? This is his girlfriend Carmen, who is also Helen’s sister. This is their father, Richard Winters, and his girlfriend, Dr. Leslie Howard. This muscular fellow over here is James, a judo champion and amazing instructor who is responsible for turning me into a tough guy.”
“A lot of the doctors in the room,” David says as he takes a glass of wine from the tray of a waitress. “I suppose that means I can drink all I want, and someone will have the technical skill to save me from alcohol poisoning and death.”
“I wouldn’t count on it, young man,” Leslie says with a smile. “This is the rehearsal dinner. We’re all getting drunk tonight!”
“Come on,” Owen says, moving closer to us. “I’ll show you to your room, David, and you can get settled in.”
“Awesome, man. I’ll just grab my suitcase from the car.”
As Owen moves past me to help David, he fixes me with a worried look. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he whispers, softly enough that no one else can hear.
But Snowball does, and she bares her teeth a little and growls at Owen, as if to tell him that he should be more positive and optimistic about this.
Chapter Eighteen
“Wow,” James says, holding his stomach. “That was one of the best meals I’ve ever had. In my whole life.”
“We got lucky with the caterers,” Liam says modestly.
That’s a lie. We painstakingly researched the best caterers and chose one with an incredible chef who uses fresh, superior quality ingredients.
“And this is only the rehearsal dinner!” Owen adds, leaning forward in excitement. “If the food is better tomorrow, I think I’ll die of happiness.”
“I hope you all saved room for dessert,” I say as the waitresses enter the room with the final course. One of the girls moves to the table to begin pouring everyone’s glasses full of port. I am really in love with the port selection we made—it is hands-down, one of my favorite wines, although I don’t drink it often to save it for special occasions. This particular bottle is a 40-year-old port with notes of figs and honey, and we’ve paired it with a decadent chocolatey dessert.
I love desserts that do things. The chocolate is served in the shape of a large, closed rosebud, on a bed of chocolate leaves and decorations. The waitresses then pour warm liquid chocolate on the top of the dessert, to release the individual chocolate “petals” and allow the flower to unfold, as though it is blossoming. This reveals the actual dessert within the center: a lychee-flavored crème brûlée, with dulce de leche on the side.
Looking around the table, I feel my heart swelling in pride as everyone exclaims in amazement as their desserts unfold. All those hours spent researching cool desserts on YouTube while I should have been working suddenly feel worthwhile. I need to take a deep breath to keep from getting emotional; only a year ago, I never would have been able to experience my food with my eyes. I never would have been able to request having something like this created. The visual pleasure one can obtain from food is still surreal to me, and I sometimes find myself close to tears over something as simple as a wine bottle.
It’s art. Food is art, just as much as my writing or David’s painting. And the presentation of the food is nearly as important as the food itself.
When I take a sip of the 40-year-old port, tears do come to my eyes, but I struggle to keep them unshed. I am not even a wedding person! I don’t know why I went so overboard in some ways. When I take a spoonful of the crème brûlée, I shut my eyes in pleasure momentarily, and then open them for several more bites.
Tomorrow’s dessert, after the wedding, will be served in ice frozen in the shape of hollowed-out hearts. I know. I really need to step away from the YouTube.
“This is really incredible, Helen,” Carmen breathes in awe as she stares at her dessert. “Growing up, I never thought you cared about getting married or having a wedding. And the guest list was
so small that I thought you were going to be lazy and cheap, but you really did an amazing job.”
“I didn’t care. Until I found the right person to marry,” I say softly.
Liam grasps my hand under the table, and we smile at each other, until I need to look away in fear of being way too cheesy. Speaking of cheese, the wine and cheese pairings I have set up for tomorrow are to die for. A strange thought crosses my mind:
I hope that Sophie likes it.
I wish that she didn’t have to miss this dinner tonight, but I suppose it is more dramatic for her to show up on the day of the actual wedding. Besides, this will give Liam time to relax and mellow out in time for his major surprise. I glance at him warily, as he begins chatting with our guests, and I can’t help wondering what his reaction will be.
Did I screw up? Did I overstep my bounds? Somehow, I don’t care. I know, deep down, that this is the right thing to do. I only spoke to Sophie on the phone for a few minutes, so it was difficult to get a read on her, but she seemed intelligent, sweet, skeptical, and damaged. Her voice echoes in my mind, and I replay her conversation.
I… had given up on ever finding my family. Are you absolutely sure he wants to meet me?
He does. The problem is, he doesn’t know you exist. He thinks you died when you were an infant, and he thinks it’s his fault. It’s been eating him up for years.
Was I convincing enough? Is she really going to show up? What if she turns back at the airport or changes her mind? I can only imagine how afraid she is.
“It’s too bad neither of your parents could make it,” my father is saying to Liam, who is looking down at his plate.
“It’s probably for the best,” Liam says. “My parents aren’t great dinner guests. I’m just glad that Owen and James are here. Thanks for making it all the way out here, guys.”
“Yes, it means so much to us,” I say with a smile.
“Are you kidding?” Owen asks. “We’re the lucky ones, to get pampered with all this great food and a free weekend stay in a cozy bed and breakfast!”
“This place is beautiful,” Leslie says with a contented sigh as she sips on her port. “You’ve really outdone yourself, Helen. Getting married here was a brilliant idea.”
“Speaking of which,” Liam says as he dabs his lips with a napkin, “I would like to take my wife-to-be on an evening stroll among the grapevines. It’s a beautiful night, and I think we should get some fresh air after all the hectic wedding prep we’ve done over the past few days.”
“That sounds really nice,” I say in surprise.
“Just bring her back before midnight,” my father says playfully. “The bride is going to need her beauty rest!”
“I will,” Liam says with a respectful nod of his head. When he stands up and bows slightly from the waist while offering me his hand, there is a moment when I am sure that he is a fairytale prince.
It’s probably just the wine talking, but I have to blink the image away as I take his hand, and wonder how he can be so impossibly charming. Of course, I immediately ruin any possibility of being mistaken for a fairytale princess by grabbing the expensive port and tossing it down my throat.
“Let’s go,” I say happily, with the dizzying flavors and aromas still swirling on my palate.
I allow Liam to guide me out of the house from the back entrance, and we stroll toward the lake.
“I was just feeling a little crowded in there,” he explains. “Plus all the talk about my family…”
“Of course. I understand. The fresh air is exactly what I need, too.”
We keep walking and gazing at the scenery, when he clears his throat to apologize.
“I probably should have grabbed our coats. It’s getting a little chilly out here.”
“The wine is keeping me warm for now,” I assure him.
He smiles and puts his arm around my waist. “We could always keep each other warm.”
“Let me take you to a good spot by the lake,” I tell him, grabbing his hand and guiding him. I wonder if it will still be there? It was my favorite spot as a child. I close my eyes briefly as I lead him, but it is too beautiful out to keep them closed for long. Even with my inferior vision, I can see the reflection of a waxing moon on the water.
“Here we are,” I tell him, after a few minutes of walking. “Carmen and I used to read under this tree for hours.”
“It’s beautiful,” Liam says, collapsing onto the grassy ground. “Would you believe all these stars? I can actually see the freaking Milky Way.”
I rub my eyes, trying to see what he does, but my vision will never be that sharp. Sighing, I lie down beside him and rest my head on his shoulder. “Why don’t we get away from the city more often? I like it so much better out here.”
“If we were always out here, then we wouldn’t appreciate it as much when we do manage to escape.”
“That’s a good point.”
We lie together in silence for a moment, and my thoughts travel to his sister. I know I should just let it be a surprise, and see how he reacts tomorrow, but I can’t resist saying something. I am just so afraid that he will be angry. If she shows up, I will have to explain that I stole his sample for the DNA test.
“Liam,” I whisper against his shoulder as we lie in the grass. “Is there anything that could make you change your mind about marrying me tomorrow?”
“Nothing at all. Not even if you were born a man. I would just thank the doctor who constructed your female parts, because he’s obviously a genius.”
“I’m serious, Liam. I’ve done something—something I’m not proud of. I don’t know if you’re going to be able to forgive me.”
“Helen,” he says with a smile. “You’re taking advantage of the fact that I’m drunk right now and there’s a good chance I won’t remember any of this in the morning. That’s not fair. You’re supposed to be taking advantage of my body and making love to me under the stars.”
Sliding my hand over his chest, I sigh. “Maybe. But something’s going to happen tomorrow; something that could change everything.
“Our marriage? Yes, it will change everything.”
“No,” I tell him softly, “something else.”
“My love, this is not the time for fear and doubts. I am feeling really good, buzzed on fine champagne, and high on life. I assure you that there is nothing on the planet that could prevent me from marrying you.”
“What about off the planet?” I ask with a nervous smile.
“Let’s see. There aren’t any sexy girls at the International Space Station, but if we take into account all the potential alien species out there—I guess there could be a devastatingly beautiful green female with the power to tempt me away from you. As an ophthalmologist, I do find six eyes way hotter than two.” Liam’s hand has been moving up and down my side, but now it slides down to cup my bottom and gently squeeze. “You’ll just have to give me a really good reason to stay here on Earth, won’t you?”
“What would make you want to stay?” I ask as I wrap my leg around him and snuggle closer.
“Hmmm,” he says thoughtfully. “It might begin to convince me if you’d take off this tantalizing red dress, and let me taste every inch of you.” His hand moves to my back and grasps the top of my zipper and slowly slides it down to release the fabric from around my body.
The cool night breeze wafts over my exposed skin, and I shiver slightly. “Well, if that’s what it will take... I’ll do anything to keep you interested.”
“You Earth girls are so eager to please,” Liam says huskily as he fumbles to unclasp my bra. “Only two breasts instead of three or four? Not that interesting. Can you make it up to me by being a really bad girl?”
“I’ll try my best,” I say softly, slipping my dress off and moving to straddle him. I haven’t had too much to drink, but it seems to have been just enough wine to make me tingly and warm on the inside, and to make this ridiculous little role play feel ridiculously sexy.
Liam moves
his hands up to knead and massage my breasts until I moan. “You’re so spoiled, with all your water, and oxygen, and… trees. I should teach you a lesson,” he says, as a mischievous smile settles on his lips.
I smile too, and can’t help but think to myself, I’m marrying this goofball. How did I get so lucky?
I feel like there is something serious nagging at the back of my mind that I wanted to discuss with him, but when he puts his hands on me like this, I have trouble thinking. “Liam,” I say softly as I grab his wrists to halt him. “Are you sure that…”
“Shhh,” he says, putting his hands around my waist and lifting me down onto the ground. “You need to stop stressing out, Helen. Everything’s going to be fine.”
“You promise? Promise you won’t be mad at me, no matter what happens tomorrow?”
“I could never be angry at you,” he tells me as he positions his body over mine and kisses me deeply on the lips. “Now will you give me a sneak peek of what it will be like to be married to an Earthling woman? I’ve always wanted to know if they’re as insatiable as the rumors say.”
Lifting my hands to his waist, I undo his belt buckle and the button of his pants, quickly fumbling to pull them down. “I don’t know about other Earthling women, but you’re going to have to work real hard to satisfy me, Dr. Larson.”
Chapter Nineteen
I am standing by the road in my wedding dress, and tapping my foot anxiously.
She should be here by now. Is she going to show up? I don’t know why, but I feel like it will totally crush my heart if she doesn’t come. Poor Liam has such terrible luck with family, and I want so badly for this one girl to change all of that for him.
Maybe he’ll see that family can be a good thing. That it could be okay for us to have children together, and potentially lead to a lifetime of joy instead of heartache.