16. Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Fifteen
BETH
After two weeks of jam-packed adventure, Beth needed a holiday from her holiday. Nick had loads of energy, able to handle a morning of intense training at the Navy base, then take her sightseeing all day, and beach walks in the evenings.
Beth placed the last of her dirty laundry in the washing machine, pressed the save water option, and start. She enjoyed her time in Exmouth, but it was nice to be back home. She collected her cane basket from the floor. Well, home for now. She wanted more detail on where they’d live in Los Angeles. Nick had been vague—his friend had a house they could use until they set out for travel. And when would that happen? She preferred to have a set plan.
It was a struggle to completely relax in Exmouth, knowing she had a mission to accomplish in organizing a last-minute wedding. She’d cut the time with Nick to get home sooner. The passport had been paid for on the day after the proposal, but no wedding dress picked out as yet. She glanced at her PJs. The next task on her long list once she got changed. She headed to her bedroom.
Beth guessed that life with Nick would always be an adventure. Amazingly, he convinced her to go swimming with the whale sharks. Her stomach dipped at the memory. Oh, when that shark opened the widest oval-shaped mouth she’d ever seen, she nearly had a heart attack. Of course, they were at a reasonably safe distance. A school of mini silvered fish entered its mouth, quite gracefully, so she had nothing to worry about. Still, she had a few disturbing dreams since then, where it didn’t end up so well.
Beth shook the image from her mind and scanned her unusually disorganized room. Two of her luggage cases laid open, covering most of the shaggy carpet. Her thick doona with swirly patterns of pinks and purples remained rumpled to one side of her double bed. She hadn’t even tidied her room since seven a.m. when Nick woke her with a video call. He found it amusing that she could barely string a sentence together without her morning coffee.
She crawled over her bed and straightened the cover, starting from the far side. Pink wouldn’t be appropriate once she shared a bed with Nick. Her stomach dropped. How would their wedding night go? Nick had kissed her on their beach walks and at the end of each night. There were no sparks, but it was nice enough. Comfortable.
Her mother often told her that the fireworks were just in the beginning, and marriage wasn’t all about that. The foundation should be friendship. Cassie disagreed. On the phone last week, she said in the engagement they needed to build on the friendship, but a strong attraction was a healthy sign of compatibility, or why not just stay friends? Cassie believed marriage with a mutual attraction was important. At the end of the call, they agreed to disagree. There were arranged marriages, so not everyone in history had the privilege of choosing someone they desired. Hopefully, she’d grow in that attraction to Nick as time went on, and she wasn’t so distracted by the many things she had to accomplish.
She fluffed her mauve throw pillows and stood back, admiring her presentation. Much better. Now, time to get dressed and meet her sisters at the bridal shop.
“How about this one, Beth?” Shanae lowered the ivory silk gown from the display rack. “Simple but elegant.”
The material shined from the chandeliers above. Thin straps attached to a gathered bodice, leading into a length of silk to the floor. Shanae held it up to her chin, then glanced at Beth for approval.
“It’s gorgeous.” Beth took it from her sister and studied it closer. “After the wedding, I could have it shortened for an evening dress for special occasions, since it has a cream shade to it, it could pass as a formal dress.” Beth pulled out the price tag. Under four hundred dollars—within her small budget. “Let’s hope it fits, so I don’t need to wait for adjustments.”
Trudy clapped her hands in delight and let out a small squeal. “This is so exciting.” She ran her fingers over the other dresses on the rack. “I should pick one out for myself. Although, Michael and I haven’t settled on a wedding date. We aren’t fast movers like some.” She winked at Beth.
“In normal circumstances, neither would I be in a rush.” Beth placed a hand on her hip. “But I’m not young anymore. Thirty-three—its time.”
“Wasn’t Jesus crucified at that age?” Trudy grinned.
“Not funny.” Beth feigned a scowl. “I’m sure marriage will include plenty of dying to self. But a lot of great things too.”
“Like . . . the act of marriage.” Trudy laughed. She quoted the book title that Dad had bought as an engagement gift. Michael’s face was plain awkward. Trudy had coughed on her spit and had to leave the room to get a drink. Classic moment.
Shanae added, “You should loan Beth the book. Think she needs some tips.”
Amy giggled. They were having a lot of fun at her expense. Should she tell them how nervous she was about it all? Beth shook her head and walked to the fitting corner of the private room. The classical sounds of a piano played through the speakers above.
She flicked the vintage curtain aside and glanced over her shoulder. “Nick doesn’t focus on the physical side of the relationship. I have no idea how that’s going to go. His love language mustn’t be physical touch.” She closed the curtain behind her.
Trudy called out. “Every man’s language is physical touch. What are you talking about?”
Beth wriggled out of her jeans and continued to try on the dress. “It’s not Nick’s.”
“That can change.” This from Shanae.
“I don’t know how he feels, but for me, it’s just nice to be loved. He’s a good guy.”
“But what about that other Navy dude?” Trudy asked. “You had it bad for him.”
“Exactly. Bad being the key word. A sign that it wasn’t right. What I have with Nick is based on our lives aligning. We’re meant to be together.”
Silence fell amongst her sisters. Did they agree? She zipped the dress as far as she could reach, then stepped out of the fitting room. “Ta-Da!” As she twirled, her hair fell over her shoulders like in a shampoo commercial.
“Oohh. It’s beautiful, Beth.” Shanae rushed over and brushed the material between her fingers.
“Stunning.” Trudy looked over her thin-framed glasses. “Nick will definitely speak another love language when he sees you in that.”
They all laughed at the same time. Deep down, Beth hoped so too.
NICK
“What do you mean the marriage license hasn’t come?” Nick raked his fingers through his hair, paced Beth’s floor, then turned to stare at her again. This couldn’t be happening.
Beth raised her palms in the air, eyes bulging. “I checked the letterbox today, and it still hasn’t come. Thirty days' notice had finished yesterday.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Heat pulsated through his neck, rising to his cheeks.
She shook her head. “I didn’t want to concern you unless the thirty-days were up. I hoped—”
Nick let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s not your fault. Let’s go to the licensing center and sort this out.” He stamped his foot. “I can’t believe the wedding is in two days and then I leave for the US. What was I thinking? Of course, delays happen.” He ran a palm over his chin. “I’m sorry if we miss out on celebrating with your family.”
Beth stepped forward and rubbed both of his arms. “It’ll be okay. If we have to make it an engagement party, that’s fine. We can get married in America. My family can watch via a video call.”
“I wanted this for you. A woman dreams of her wedding day and wants to be walked down the aisle by their father. This is terrible.” He gazed into her compassionate eyes, shining from a film of moisture. No denying this was important to her. Failure number one. He failed Beth—robbed her of a childhood dream to be a stunning bride for all her family and friends to see.
Footsteps came down the hallway. Nick stepped away from Beth, and he forced a smile for the young lady with peroxide blonde hair and steely blue eyes. Must be Melissa, the single mom.
“What’s all the fuss out here?” She kept walking to the kitchen and called over her shoulder. “Having a lovers’ tiff?”
Beth left him and followed Melissa. “The marriage license didn’t arrive.” Beth sat on the breakfast bar stool, placed her elbows on the table, and sunk her head into her palms.
Yep. It mattered. Beth tried to pretend all would be okay to him, but now her friend was here to bare her soul to, she showed how she really felt. Devastated.
Melissa’s head whipped around, her hair slapping her mouth. “No! You serious? But you’ve paid all the deposits for the catering and reception. Will you get your money back?”
“Maybe some,” Beth mumbled into her hands.
“Hey.” Nick joined them and rubbed circles over Beth’s back. “It could come tomorrow. Let’s call the office first and see where it’s at. We could be getting worked up over nothing.”
Beth turned with a pink flush to her face. “You were the one getting all worked up over there.” She flicked her head to the living room.
Melissa eyed him with suspicion. Rightly so. He did let his temper slide a little. Nothing like the past. In his twenties, he had an anger issue. The night he’d received a broken jaw sorted that problem out. A punch of reality. He pressed his chin—still numb from the surgery.
Beth slipped off the barstool. “You could be right. I’ll find the paperwork and give them a call.” She strode out of the room. Leaving him with feisty Melissa.
The woman grabbed a block of cheese from the fridge and slapped it onto the cutting board. Despite her stiff resolve, he straddled the bar stool and attempted some conversation. “So, I hear you have an adorable little girl. Hannah?”
Her thin brows daggered toward her nose. “What’s it to you?” She placed a hand on her hip.
His eyes widened, and the corner of his mouth twitched as he tried to smile. “Just making friendly conversation.”
She pouted her lips to one side. “I’ve met plenty of sailors in my time. They have the right words and all the smooth moves, but it’s all a fa?ade.” She clicked her fingers. “Then they disappear, back to where they came from, breaking hearts at each port.”
Nick straightened his back. “I’m sorry you’ve had a bad experience. I agree women shouldn’t hook up with a sailor visiting a port. But I’ve proposed to Beth, willing to marry her. Surely you can see I’m not just any sailor?”
“Hmph.” She wobbled her head. “We’ll see.” She continued to open the drawer and retrieved a cheese grater.
He hopped off the witness stand and waited in the living room for Beth instead. He could only take so much sass from the lady.
Beth’s voice echoed down the hallway. “DeHann and Michaels.” Her cell pushed to her ear as she strode into the room. “Yes. That’s us.” She sat on the sofa opposite him and crossed a leg over her knee.
Her brows furrowed. “Issued three days ago? Do you have a tracking number?” She scanned the receipt in her hand. “I didn’t know it was an option. No, we haven’t paid for registered post.” She warily glanced at Nick.
He scrunched his forehead. Where was the document then? It was supposed to be next day delivery.
“What address did you send it to?” Beth swapped the phone to her other ear, deep in concentration. “Marriage celebrant?” She looked at her papers. “Oh, my dad. Winston Michaels. My dad is a registered celebrant.” She laughed. “That makes sense. You send it to him. Oh, I’m sure he has it then. No problem. Thanks for your time.” She ended the call.
Beth tilted her head and smiled. “My dad has the document.” She let out a small laugh. “I must’ve got confused. Thought it came to us. My mind is a blur. Dad has a minister helping with the first part of the ceremony, so Dad’s free to walk me down the aisle. But he will lead us in the vows and signing the papers.”
“Great.” He gestured to her phone. “Well, let’s call him, just to be sure he has the license.”
“Oh, yeah. Good idea.” She blushed.
Beth speed-dialed her dad and placed the call on loudspeaker. Nick leaned forward in anticipation.
“Hi Dad, I called the marriage office, and they said you should have the license by now. Has it arrived?”
“Ugh, no. Not to the house or the center. Do you have a tracking number?”
Beth rubbed her temple. “No, we didn’t realize it was an option, but I see on the copy of my form we didn’t tick or pay for registered post.”
“When did they send it?”
“Three days ago.”
“Oh.” Winston paused. “Maybe it’s at my local Australia Post. I’ll go down now and see if it’s there.”
“Okay. Let me know as soon as you’ve checked.”
“I’ll call back soon.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Beth focused on Nick with concern in her eyes. “This is not good.”
“Is it normal that documents go to the post office first?”
She frowned. “Not usually, unless it’s registered post.”
He slumped his head and splayed his palms over his jagged haircut.
Beth touched his shoulder, her voice soft. “Worst scenario, we have an engagement party here. Get married in the States, and your mother can be there.”
His jaw clenched. He remained still, waiting for Winston’s phone call. From the kitchen, the microwave tinged.
A mild aroma of melted cheese drifted into the living room, followed by open-mouth chewing. “Is everything okay in here?” Melissa asked.
“Not sure.” Beth’s voice sounded weak. “We may have to delay the wedding.”
“Hmmm. Right.” Melissa’s chewing retreated to the kitchen.
Nick bet she had a smug look on her face. He slowly raised his head and studied Beth’s worry lines, although she offered a consoling smile.
A few heart-wrenching minutes later, Winston called with the news—no document.
Beth took Nick’s hand after she ended the call. “Oh, well. I guess it’s been a rush. This way, I’ll have more time to organize things better.”
“You were doing a great job of pulling it all together. Everything’s done. And you’ve paid those deposits.”
“I’ll get most of my money back.”
Nick bit his lower lip. “There’s no chance . . . that your dad . . . ?”
Beth crossed her arms over her peach blouse. “That he what?”
“Your dad likes me, doesn’t he? He wouldn’t?”
“I’m thirty-three. He wouldn’t go to that extreme to stop us from getting married. He’d just give his opinion and let me decide.”
“You know him better than me.”
She gave him a stern look. “Yes. I do.”
Oops. He’d touched a sensitive button. Beth seemed defensive about her dad. They were close. In a weird sort of way, like a married couple. She’d raised his children and partnered in running his charity like a wife would. And that could be an extra motive for Winston to accidentally misplace the document. He shook his head. This frustration wasn’t helping the situation.
“Sorry for bringing it up.”
She leaned back into the suede sofa, arms crossed. Her lips remained thin. “All right.”
He matched her posture. “All right.”