by Alexa Land
He grabbed me in a hug and said, “You’re such a good friend. Thank you. My parents were going to take my cat home with them while I was on my honeymoon, but obviously that’s not happening now. Puffy is too high strung for a kennel, but he knows you because you were our roommate for a while, and you’re the only person I trust to look after him.”
It was a good thing we were hugging, so Conrad couldn’t see the look of sheer horror on my face. By the time he let go of me, I’d managed to pull up what I hoped resembled a cheerful expression, and I said, “Yeah. Um, I can do that.”
“I knew I could count on you! Puffy’s been up in the bridal suite all weekend, and he’s a bit cranky right now because I stayed out all night. I’m going to go get him and bring him downstairs for the ceremony. I bought him the cutest little tux! I know we’re all dressing casually, but I don’t think Cat will mind if Puffy gets spiffed up for the occasion.” He smiled at me and hurried from the kitchen.
As soon as he was gone, I pantomimed banging my forehead against the wall, and Cole grinned and said, “Wow. You’re so screwed.”
I turned to look at him and said, “I am! But I couldn’t say no to that.”
“No, you really couldn’t.” He chuckled and added, “Conrad seemed fairly normal, but damn. A cat tuxedo? Who does that?”
“He’s always been a little crazy when it comes to Puffy. I just don’t know how he expects to stuff that hell beast into an outfit.”
“Well hey, at least that part’s his problem, not yours.”
“True.”
“You know, I always wondered. Why did Conrad want a roommate back when he was in law school? His family’s loaded, so it seems like he could have afforded an apartment on his own.”
“It wasn’t about money. He was just lonely. I can see why now, with friends and family like that.”
“Yeah, no kidding.” Cole picked up a bandana from the counter and tied his hair back, then changed the subject by saying, “Alright, what should we do first?”
“This.” I drew him into my arms and kissed him gently before saying, “Thank you again for all your help this weekend.”
That made him smile. “You’ve already thanked me about a dozen times.”
“I know, but I’m really grateful.”
“I always loved cooking with you, and I had fun this weekend. It’s just too bad we never got to see that big, beautiful dinner come together. It would have been amazing.”
“I would have liked to make that happen. But now I’m looking forward to pulling together a wonderful mini version, and it’s nice that all the pressure’s off.” Cole nodded, and then he tightened his embrace and put his head on my shoulder. I kissed his hair and asked, “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. It’s just that this weekend’s almost over. I’ve loved getting to spend time cooking and reconnecting with you, and I guess…well, I guess I’m worried about what’ll happen when we leave here.”
“What do you mean?”
“This has reminded me so much of the early days, back when we first got together. We’re talking, and we’re happy, and it feels wonderful. But what if it all starts to unravel, like it did last time? I know we’ve already been over this, and we promised to do better this time. I shouldn’t even be bringing it up again, but I just got hit by a moment of dread about going back home and falling into the same routines, despite our best intentions.”
I rubbed his back as I hugged him, and I said, “The fact that you’re bringing it up is such a good sign. That’s exactly what we need to do to make this work. We just have to keep talking to each other.”
“You’re right.” He kissed my cheek, and then he said, “Come on, let’s start cooking. I have a feeling we’re going to need a lot of food for this crowd. It’s not going to be polite, dainty, wedding reception eating, you know. It’s more like: I’ve got my stretchy pants on, now stand back while I do some damage to this all-you-can-eat buffet.”
I chuckled at that, then turned on the commercial oven and said, “You’re not wrong.”
*****
Several dishes were well under way by the time Jamie came and got us about twenty minutes later. We followed him out the French doors, and Cole and I paused on the patio as I murmured, “Wow.”
An enormous, freestanding arch stood about fifteen feet from the stairs. Fernando and Lena were making some last-minute adjustments to the swags of flowers that were draped over and dripping from the structure. All the centerpieces had been brought outside as well, and they were clustered around the base of the arch in a free-form cloud.
We walked up to Darwin as he stood back and admired his handiwork, and Cole said, “You promised a magic trick, and you delivered. How did you do this?”
“It’s called a da Vinci bridge, the credit goes to him for the design. I followed his pattern and interwove two-by-fours and dowels. I learned how to do it from a video on the internet. The only other time I made one was out of Popsicle sticks, so I was super excited to build a full-scale version. Bigger than most, actually, because I wanted the bride and groom to be able to fit beneath the arch.” Mission accomplished. The center section was about eight feet off the ground. Darwin grabbed a couple of the cross-pieces and hung from the arch as he added, “It’s sturdy, too, in case anyone’s worried.”
Cat looked so happy as she and her fiancé took it all in. Puffy the Attack Cat sat beside them, on the end of a sparkly leash and harness. Conrad had somehow succeeded in stuffing the creature into a one-piece garment that was made to look like a white shirt with a bowtie and a black jacket with tails. The cat looked skinny where the tux tamped down his thick fur, while his head and rear looked like two giant puffballs. Puffy was a flat-faced white Persian who always looked pissed off, and dressing him up had turned his dial a couple clicks toward murderous. He sat there glaring at everyone and everything, and when he caught sight of me, I could have sworn his eyes narrowed.
I didn’t have time to dwell on my feline nemesis though, because the minister and Uncle Ethan came around the corner of the inn just then, and everyone sprang into action. Dmitri’s sister Ani rushed up to us and handed us boutonnieres, and swung her blonde ponytail over her shoulder as she exclaimed, “It’s time!”
Cole and I grinned as we took turns pinning the single, white roses on each other. “I feel like we’re going to prom,” he said. “Except for the fact that we’re in T-shirts and shorts.”
“Did you and Hunter go to your senior prom?”
He shook his head. “We would have loved to, but we knew the assholes we went to school with would have jumped us in the parking lot and beaten the living hell out of us before we could even make it into the building. If I was the only one in danger, I would have gone anyway. But Hunter was so tiny and fragile back then, and I was afraid they’d seriously injure him.”
“I hate the fact that you had to grow up in a place like that.”
“Yeah. Me too.” Cole changed the subject by turning to look at the scene before us and saying, “This came together really well.”
“It did.”
We all clustered around the arch, and Darwin began filming with his phone. There was no bride’s side or groom’s side. We were just one big family. Conrad stood in the center of the group, his eyes bright with unshed tears, flanked by the minister on his right side and Puffy on his left.
Cat’s cousin Lena began to sing a slow, beautiful rendition of Bob Marley’s One Love, and we all joined in on the second verse. Cat marched out of the back of the inn on Dmitri’s arm, wearing her tracksuit and carrying a big, cascading bouquet of white roses and pink lilies. Her smile was radiant, and her eyes never left Conrad as she and her cousin crossed the patio and descended the stairs.
When they reached the arch, the cousins hugged each other, and Dmitri kissed her cheek before Cat turned to her groom and took his hand. The minister was a short, cheerful man of about sixty. He reminded me of Santa Claus with his white hair and beard, wire-framed glasses, and ro
sy cheeks. He’d obviously gotten the memo about the dress code, because he wore shorts and sandals with a T-shirt that said ‘Sally’s Pancake House’ above a drawing of a steaming pile of flapjacks.
The ceremony was short and sweet. Cat and Conrad pledged to love, honor, and cherish each other all of their lives, and in just a few minutes, Santa pronounced them husband and wife. When the couple kissed passionately, we all cheered, and the bridesmaids threw their flowers in the air, like caps on graduation day. Since the bouquets were actually dense and heavy, we all laughed and dodged them when they fell back to earth.
Darwin glanced up from the video he was recording and grinned as he said, “It’s like a matrimonial meteor shower.” He then snapped a few photos of the happy couple under the da Vinci bridge. The minister told Darwin to get in the shot, and we all clustered around Cat and Conrad. Cole grabbed me in an embrace as we smiled for the camera. When the minister handed Darwin his phone, he glanced at the screen and said, “That’s a keeper. I’ll make sure everybody gets copies of all the photos and videos.” Darwin grinned embarrassedly when Cat pulled him close and kissed his cheek.
Uncle Ethan brought some wireless speakers outside, and when Jamie synced them to his phone and began playing some music, everyone started dancing. Cole slid his arms around my waist and we slow-danced barefoot in the grass, even though the song was upbeat. The sun was shining, and a light breeze stirred our hair, and the moment was so perfect that Cole whispered, “I wish we could stay here forever.”
“Me too.”
We danced to one more song before heading inside to pull together the buffet. To our delight, several people came along to help us, including Darwin, Jamie and Dmitri, and Ethan Ballantine. Conrad’s uncle didn’t really know his way around a kitchen, but he took direction cheerfully.
Before long, we’d set up a bountiful buffet in the dining room, and everyone came in and helped themselves. Then we all carried our heaping plates and a few extra chairs out to the brick patio and ate on our laps while Ethan handed glasses of wine to the grownups and juice boxes to the kids. When he finished playing host, he sat down beside us, tucked into his food, and exclaimed, “This is outstanding! You’re a hell of a chef, River.”
“Thanks, I appreciate the compliment. I also appreciate you lending a hand to put this meal together.”
“I was happy to do something useful for a change.”
We chatted as we ate, and at one point I asked, “What made you decide to buy a vineyard?”
Ethan wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin and gazed out across the lawn. “I’m keeping a promise I made a very long time ago. I’ve always loved winemaking and used to rattle on incessantly about doing something like this. My wife would always say to me, ‘Don’t just talk about it, make it happen!’ I swore to her I would. It took me the better part of two decades, but I’m finally making good on my promise and following my dreams.”
“She must be so proud of you,” Cole said.
Ethan’s smile was laced with sadness. “I like to think she is. Amelia died in 1998. But if there’s a heaven, she’s up there right now cheering me on.”
I murmured, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks. She was my world. You and Cole actually remind me of how Amelia and I used to be. I see it in the way your eyes light up when you look at each other, and in the fact that whenever you’re sitting still, you always make sure some part of you is touching.” He grinned as he gestured at our knees, which were resting against each other, and Ethan asked, “How long have you two been a couple?”
“We were together a little over a year,” I said, “but then we broke up and spent the last year apart. This weekend, we resolved to try again, and we’re both committed to getting it right this time.”
He raised a toast and said, “Here’s to you. I have a good feeling about you two. It really seems like you’re meant to be.” After we drained our glasses, he got up and said, “I’m going to open a few more bottles of wine. This is a day to celebrate! I called a limo to take my nephew and his bride to the airport when they’re ready to leave, and all of you are welcome to spend the night at the inn, so no one has to worry about overindulging.”
Cole said, “Thanks, that’s really thoughtful.”
When Ethan went inside, I slipped my hand around Cole’s shoulders and said, as I rested my forehead against his, “I’m so lucky.”
He draped his arms around my neck and asked, “What brought that on?”
“Ethan is the second person I’ve met this month who lost the love of his life. It reminded me how lucky I am to get this second chance with you.”
Cole murmured, “We’re both lucky,” and then he kissed me gently.
*****
A couple hours later, after food, and cake, and wine, and dancing, and more food, Cat and Conrad left for the airport. We all waved as the white stretch limo rolled down the private road. Then Jamie and Dmitri helped Cole and me clean up the kitchen and what was left of the buffet. After that, we all returned to the patio and went back to celebrating with our friends.
Around midnight, Cole and I slipped away to the band shell in the vineyard and made love under the stars. Then he dozed off in my arms. I’d been so blissfully happy all day, but a little worry crept in as I watched him sleep.
We’d been in such a perfect little bubble all weekend. It really had felt like the earliest days of our relationship, when everything was so effortless, and all we wanted was just to be together. The next day, we’d be heading back to reality. I wanted to be optimistic, I really did. But the worry wouldn’t go away.
Cole knew I’d been hurt by our breakup, but I hadn’t told him just how bad it had gotten for me. Since he’d been the one to leave, I hadn’t wanted him to feel guilty about how much it had torn me up inside. I hadn’t told anyone actually, because I hated burdening my loved ones with my problems. I’d found I was good at pulling up a cheerful façade and making people think I was fine, even when I was anything but.
I stayed awake for hours, while that fear and worry kept building on itself. And then I made a decision. I kissed Cole’s cheek, and his forehead, and after a while he stirred and murmured, “Hey. You okay?”
I whispered, “I’m scared, Cole.”
He gathered me into his arms and said, “Tell me how I can help.” What beautiful words.
Chapter Nine
“What have you done, Quinn?”
“Big improvement, right?”
“No, it’s not a big improvement, it’s a freaking horror show! What would compel you to paint our living room walls this sickening shade of pink? I feel like I’m inside a large intestine.”
He knit his brows as he bent over and peered into the pet carrier at my feet. “What do you have in there, and why does it sound like it’s dying?”
“It’s not dying, it’s just a damn drama queen.”
Puffy the Attack Cat had howled and complained all the way from Napa to San Francisco. He got particularly loud when we stopped to deliver the food to Lunch with Love. I was surprised none of the volunteers called the authorities on us for animal abuse, though they certainly seemed concerned. The volume increased again when I dropped off Cole at his duplex, as if the beast was trying to signal the cop roommate to save him from his abductors.
“Is that a cat?”
“Of course it’s a cat. What else would it be?”
Quinn straightened up and grinned at me as he said, “It’s wearing a tuxedo.”
“I know. His owner didn’t take it off before he left on his honeymoon, and when I tried, I almost lost a limb.”
“So, we get to babysit him? Awesome! I love cats.” Quinn flipped the latch on the carrier, and the moment the door swung open, Puffy took off like a shot.
I dropped the bulging tote bag full of Puffy’s possessions and scrubbed both hands over my face. “That thing’s not a cat, it’s a demon with fur.”
“He can’t be that bad.” Quinn stooped and glanced under t
he furniture as he asked, “Where’d he go?”
“Back to hell, presumably. I don’t know how we’re going to survive two weeks with that creature. You know what, though? I felt bad for inflicting Puffy on you, but after seeing what you did to our apartment, I now think he’s apt punishment.”
“What? Those white walls were boring!”
“I know, but I told you when you moved in that our landlord wouldn’t let us paint! You just cost us our security deposit.”
“Totally worth it.” He pulled a stuffed mouse from the tote bag and began squeaking it and calling, “Puuuuuuffy, where aaaaaare you?”
“Please stop before I actually kill you.”
Quinn raised a brow at me and said, “You’re in a fine mood. Did you have a bad weekend?”
“I had a great weekend, the best of my life. Unfortunately, it ended, and I then had to spend two hours in my van with a shrieking feline. God, I have a headache. It doesn’t help that I only slept a couple hours last night.”
Quinn got right in my face and started massaging my temples. He had no concept of personal space. Because he was still holding the cat toy, it squealed as he mashed it against the side of my head, and I grimaced and said, “Wow, is that not helping.”
“Well, of course not. You’re all tensed up! Work with me here.”
I grabbed the squealing mouse from him and threw it across the room, and when it stuck to the wall I exclaimed, “Is the paint still wet?”
“Yeah, I accidentally bought oil paint. That’s why it reeks in here. I have an idea for making it dry quicker, though.”
“That color is disgusting. What compelled you to paint the walls intestine pink?”
“It was in the reject bin at the hardware store, just three bucks! There was a dab of paint on the lid to show the color, and I thought it looked kind of pretty. Admittedly, I didn’t expect it to be quite so…organic. But don’t worry, my solution for drying the walls is also going to alter the color quite a bit.” As he was talking, Quinn kept up the vigorous massage. It almost felt good.