by Matayo, Amy
“I’ll be there soon,” I say.
Ending the call, I toss my phone on the bed and stare at the empty room, then give up and head to Dillon’s house. No sense in dragging Jane into this mess.
* * *
“It can’t possibly be that bad,” I say to Liam, turning my SUV onto the highway. I’ve spent the better part of the morning listening to Dillon’s mom declaring this wedding a lost cause of monumental proportions—her words, not mine. The sky has definitely fallen in the Hayes’ household, and it’s up to me to prop it back up as best I can. We’re on our way to get a proverbial ladder and nails now. One way or another, someone is repairing this freak-show of a snowstorm, at least long enough to hold a wedding ceremony. I’ve got things to do—a tour to resume and a girlfriend to kiss. I didn’t take a week off for no good reason. “Once we get there, we’ll just go inside and look around, but let me do the talking. I have a way of bringing people to my side and getting them to see my point of view. Give me a few minutes, and the wedding will move forward as planned. There’s no way the snow has damaged the place that much in twenty-four hours.”
“There are twenty-three inches on the ground, and it’s still snowing,” he responds. “The most I remember ever seeing in my life around here is seven inches, and back then school was canceled for a week. I have a feeling there’s been some damage.”
Okay, so maybe he’s right, but Liam hasn’t traveled as much as I have. Last month in Maine, they were buried in three feet of snow and cars were still driving on the road as usual. I understand that Nashville isn’t as readily equipped to handle things as they are in the north, but to cancel the wedding because of a little powder? I’ll get the owners to see the light and put the event back on their schedule. Nothing can be this bad, a clear overreaction on their part.
“Do you really think you can convince them to let us have it there?” Dillon asks from the back seat.
“I convinced Jane to move here, didn’t I? I convinced people to raise millions of dollars to help rebuild Springfield, Missouri last year, didn’t I? Of course I can talk them into it. Don’t worry. I’ve got it. If nothing else, I’ll flirt a little and turn on the charm, and it will work. Trust me.”
From the back seat, Dillon gives a single—and in my opinion, rude—laugh. As for Liam, he says nothing. Which says everything.
“I’ll have you know that most people find my charm irresistible. You both act like I don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“We know what you’re talking about, it’s just we’re immune to your particular brand of charm,” Dillon says, brat that she is. “Make sure you notify us when you turn it on, so we don’t miss it. I’m sure it’s something to see.”
“Shut up Dillon, or you can do this by yourself. And for the record, I am charming.”
“I don’t doubt it. Just please don’t seduce anyone on my behalf. I’d rather find another place for the wedding because seeing you flirt with some little old lady wouldn’t be worth it.” Next to me, Liam fake shivers.
“My seducing days are over. At least for everyone except Jane.”
“Lucky girl,” Dillon says, implying Jane is the opposite of lucky. “Just…please talk them into letting us keep the venue.”
“I will, no matter what it takes.”
“Thank you, Teddy. It means a lot that you’re doing this.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got your back. We’ll get this wedding back on track before you know it.” I tap my temple. “Like I said, ‘charm.’ I can’t wait to see you both eating your words.”
Chapter Seven
Dillon
One of the best parts of Teddy’s fame is watching it backfire. Not that I’m not proud of him; you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone more supportive of someone than I am of him. But every once in a while his overconfidence crumbles, and it’s entertaining to watch. As it would be right now if I wasn’t busy witnessing my dream wedding get crushed by still-falling snow.
The chapel is buried in layers of it.
The roof isn’t “caved in,” it’s smashed beyond recognition, a gaping hole in the middle serving as a beacon for more of the white stuff to find its way inside. It’s as cold inside the church as it is outside, a biting arctic wind managing to blow through the roof and up the aisle where we’re standing. How am I possibly supposed to wear a sleeveless dress in this?
“I’m afraid it’s just going to get worse,” the pastor of the church says, peering cautiously up at the ceiling as though bracing for plaster and shingles to fall on us. Instead, little flecks of snow descend over our heads in a steady downpour. One lands on my lashes, and I quickly look down to blink it away only to find I’m standing on a five-inch snow mound. The wood floors of this church won’t survive without massive water damage. It’s sad, really, to think of something so beautiful being ruined by something equally beautiful. I suppose there’s an ugly side to everything.
“It looks that way,” Liam says with a sigh. Teddy just nods and stands beside him, taking in the state of the building. Even though our situation is worse than I thought, I can’t help teasing him a bit.
“Now would be the time to turn on the charm,” I say, looking Teddy straight in the face. “Though I’m not sure he’ll be very susceptible to it.” I send a pointed look toward the pastor, who studies us both with a puzzled expression on his face. Teddy ignores me and continues to look around, but I see the tic in his jaw. This might be tougher than we even knew.
“What if we brought in a tarp to cover the open roof and hired someone to clean this up?” he asks, gesturing to the snow. “It would only be a temporary fix, but it could give us time to get through the ceremony, at least.”
The pastor folds and unfolds his hands. “The trouble is finding someone to show up. I’ve already called several companies for clean-up, but everyone is overbooked. This snow is affecting everything. And then there’s the matter of insurance and liabilities…”
My insides deflate. The news keeps getting worse and worse. “Okay, well, maybe we could clean it up ourselves?” I say. Not how I planned to spend the last two days before my wedding, but what choice do we have?
“We’ll clean it up together. I’ll cover the cost of everything, and I’ll sign whatever insurance waiver you need me to sign. An hour is all we’ll need for the wedding. Right?” Teddy looks at me in silent understanding that we’ll have to make the ceremony quick.
“I’m not going to let you pay for this, Teddy. And you’re hardly going to take responsibility,” Liam says. Out of desperation, I want to argue—please let him pay for it! Please let him take responsibility!—but Liam is right. Teddy saves everything, it’s what we’ve all come to expect. Maybe it’s time for us to be a little less dependent on him and his money.
“I agree with Liam on this,” I say.
“Of course I’ll pay for it—”
“No, Liam is right,” I say, surprising us all. For as long as I can remember, it’s been Teddy and me saving each other. More accurately, Teddy saving me. It isn’t fair, not to him and not to Jane. Not even to Liam, who’s never once complained. “You can help us clean it up, but you’re not paying for this. I won’t let you.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Since when has that ever stopped me? Now,” he says, dismissing me and turning to the pastor, “would you agree to let us have the wedding if I take all responsibility to clean the place up?”
“Teddy—”
“Consider it my wedding gift to you,” he says to Liam. “You’ll have to buy your own coffee maker now.”
Liam smiles. “I already did.”
“Perfect.” Teddy winks. “Now what do you say, Pastor? Can we use the church? We’ll get in and out fast, just long enough to say ‘I do’ and leave.”
What about the reception? I want to ask, but I don’t. We’ll find a new place for that. Liam must sense my thoughts because he gives my hand a squeeze to let me know it will be okay. The important thing is being married in the same church my p
arents were married…to be married to Liam at all; we can eat cake somewhere else. As for ideas on that place…I’m coming up short.
The pastor sighs. “I suppose so. You have an officiant, right? Because I don’t really—”
“All we need is the building,” Liam says.
He’s right, all we need is the building. But it’s a little unsettling knowing a man of God would rather stay home in safety than officiate a wedding. A pile of snow lands with a thud on my head. I suppose I can’t blame the man…
“Then the building is yours.”
After a round of handshakes and parting promises to take care of the church, we trudge back through the snow and climb inside the car.
“Told you,” Teddy says, backing slowly out of the lot, then carefully steering us down the road. Not easy to do when nothing has been cleared, and the “road” is nothing but old tire marks flanked by snow-covered trees on both sides. “Don’t tell me I don’t have charm. Even the pastor could feel it.”
“It’s more likely he liked the sound of you clearing out all that snow. When are you planning to start that, by the way?”
“When are we planning to start that, you mean. Later this afternoon, after I pick up Jane. Bring your gloves and shovels, kids.”
From the front seat, Liam sighs. “For the record, I don’t think you have any charm at all.”
“Me either,” I say, wondering how I got stuck shoveling snow two days before my wedding. Stupid snow and it’s horrible, horrible timing.
Teddy just laughs. He’s enjoying this way too much.
* * *
Liam
Over the years, I’ve learned to go along with Teddy’s ideas without much complaint, because like it or not, the guy has a bit of the Midas touch. The dirtiest-looking coal turns to gold with the slightest flick of his wrist as though nothing wants to disappoint him, even inanimate objects with no obvious value.
But this. I see no hope for this turning into anything but a mess.
“Dude, it’s slippery up there,” I say to him. “I really don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be up there. You could get hurt.”
“I’m not going to get hurt. Just throw the tarp at me, and I’ll secure it real fast. And then I’ll climb down, easy as wedding cake.”
“The expression is ‘easy as pie,’” I say, worried at his flippant attitude.
“Not today, it isn’t.”
“If your manager finds out I let you do this, he’ll kill me. Teddy Hayes falling off a roof isn’t exactly good for business.”
“He won’t find out because I’m not going to fall. Now toss me the tarp and hurry up about it. I’m freezing up here.”
With a growl, I toss him the blue plastic fabric, the best we could do under the circumstances. They were all sold out of muted colors at the store, and we didn’t have time to keep searching. The bright blue will make for some borderline ugly pictures, but it will have to do. I suppose we could confine pictures to inside the chapel and use the picture window behind the altar to capture the snow. From outside the building, the snow is nothing more than a blinding nightmare. Inside, however, it almost looks picturesque. Assuming we can clear the rising snowbank away from the entrance, that is. The next time I agree to get married in winter, someone please remind me not to.
“Why are we doing this again?” Teddy asks, echoing my thoughts. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to have the wedding closer to my aunt and uncle’s house? Or maybe even…postpone it until after the snow melts?”
I agree with everything except this. I don’t want to postpone the wedding. I wanted to marry Dillon the day we were rescued from that island, maybe even before. When you share the worst days of your life with someone and still manage to find love, you’re eager to start the best days with them as fast as you can. That means getting married now, not later.
“It would make more sense for sure, but she wants to get married where her parents got married. And her grandparents got married. Apparently, everyone in your family has gotten married in this chapel. Shouldn’t you already know this?”
I hear Teddy scoff from his spot on the roof. “I don’t keep up with wedding crap. I guess I should start, though…”
My ears perk up at that sentence, especially because unbeknownst to Teddy, Jane chooses this exact moment to walk outside.
“Why should you start keeping up with it now?” she says, pushing a shovelful of snow out of the church entrance. There’s no response from Teddy. I can feel his discomfort from here.
Busted.
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
“Because according to Bachelor in Paradise here,” he finally says, christening me with that title, “my whole family has gotten married in this chapel. And since none of them are currently divorced, I guess that means I’ll have to get married here too. To keep up the lucky streak.”
Jane unloads the snow and rests her arm on the shovel handle, looking upward in Teddy’s direction. “Because getting married somewhere else means you’d likely wind up dumping your wife?”
“Nah babe, I’d never dump you. But we should probably get married here just to keep it on the safe side.” He laughs at his joke, paying no attention to the way Jane reaches for a wad of snow, shapes it into a ball, and throws it straight at Teddy’s head.
It was a bad idea, we both realized a second too late.
When it hit, Teddy lurched backward.
Yelped.
And fell off the roof.
Chapter Eight
(Somewhere in Tennessee)
Riley
In case you’ve lost track of where things stand in this disaster of a drive:
One, we’re stuck in some town in Tennessee that is not Memphis and is nowhere close to Nashville. I can’t remember the name of the town because it isn’t listed on the map, not the paper one or the Google one. For the record, it’s kinda hard to navigate when nothing recognizes your address. Don’t believe me? Type in 97 South Junebug Street in any part of Tennessee and see what pops up. Nothing, that’s what.
Two, the cake is beginning to slant sideways like the leaning tower of Pisa, odd since it’s now half-frozen and stored in four separate boxes, one for each layer. Most likely, it’s due to all the stops and starts, brake-slamming and sliding we’ve been doing on our torturous drive here. I peeked inside two boxes to find icing heavy on one side, and the top layer of both cakes scooted a little to the left.
Three, I will forever curse winter weddings and weather for as long as I live, and this is from a girl who—up until yesterday—has adored snow and all its fluffy glory for every single year of her life. You want to build a snowman? I’m your girl. Snow angels? I’ll make them look like they can fly. Snow ice cream? I’ll whip up some real quick and add chocolate. Never again will I think these thoughts or say these words. My relationship with winter is officially over. Easy to say when winter precipitation is currently covering your thighs.
And four, Teddy is in the hospital.
In a nutshell, life currently sucks. Can the week possibly get worse?
Don’t answer that.
“Is anything else broken, or just his foot?” Chad says into the phone. “What do you mean, not his foot? Then what’s wrong? Is anything broken at all?” The conversation has gone around this way a couple of times, mainly because people keep passing the phone and no one is talking long enough to give a real answer. Right now we’re listening to Chad’s aunt Barbara on speaker, who sounds about as positive as that GEICO commercial guy who’s always getting injured in freak accidents. According to her, Teddy fell for miles and has effectively ended his career. I have my doubts. Out of everyone we’ve talked to so far, no one has sounded this defeated.
“He didn’t break anything, Aunt Barbara,” Dillon scoffs. There’s a commotion like she just wrangled the phone out of her aunt’s hand. “Except maybe his pride.” She sounds a little exasperated and definitely annoyed. “Honestly, Chad, can one more thing go wrong t
his week? What was he thinking, falling off a roof?”
“Well, I don’t think he planned this. Are you sure he’s okay? No concussion or anything?”
“Not yet,” she says. “But that might change later when I hit him on the head.”
“Wasn’t he fixing the roof for you, though? For your wedding?”
The silence coming from the other end of the line could be considered the deadly kind. Tense. Lengthy. “What’s your point?”
Chad laughs. “I figured that would get a rise out of you.”
Dillon growls, and the next thing we hear is, “Here, talk to your brother.” There’s another commotion as the phone is passed once again.
“Hey Chad,” Liam says, “you making Dillon mad again?”
“That doesn’t seem hard to do lately,” Chad says, still laughing. “For real, though, is Teddy okay? Is his career over like his aunt says?”
“No, it isn’t over, though some tabloid has already gotten hold of the story.”
I pull up my phone and search Teddy’s name, then see it—Teddy being pulled out of an ambulance, the headline “Teddy Hayes Injured in Freak Accident” slashed across the top of the article in blood-red ink. Fitting, I suppose. I show it to Chad, who rolls his eyes.
“Of course they have. Just…don’t let anyone in to see him that isn’t family. And let him know we’ll be there later tonight, assuming the weather cooperates.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. We will? Seeing that we’re still three hours away from Nashville and driving twenty excruciatingly slow miles an hour, it doesn’t seem likely, but I press my lips together and concentrate on trying to see the road. Hard to do when there’s not much of a road to see. Tennessee—the south in general—desperately needs to invest in snowplows.
“Really, you will?”
“Yes, I promise,” Chad says. I send him another look but say nothing. I’d rather everyone not hear us argue. “Now, I need to hang up and drive.”