49. Daisy
Chapter 49
Daisy
"Sweet mother of petunia's," Vivi grumbles, hauling a sack of groceries into my house. "It's cold outside. Like, really freaking cold. Have you made sure Hugo has heaters set up for the reception?"
"Um, yeah," I nod absentmindedly, helping her unpack the groceries. Vivi and I always split buy one, get one deals from the grocery store. "He texted yesterday and asked if I'd looked at the weather forecast for the weekend. I said I hadn't, and he told me not to worry, that he had it all covered."
When Hugo asked if I'd checked the weather for my own wedding, I didn't feel bad admitting I hadn't. Ever since last weekend when I spent the evening with Penn, I've been turning over uncomfortable thoughts in my head. A man as controlling as Glenn Hampton would certainly be upset by something possibly threatening his son's impending nuptials, and paying to make the problem go away is undoubtedly in his wheelhouse, but it still feels like I'm missing something. There are obviously things I don't know, and I haven't pressed because I'm haven't been certain I wanted to know. There are some situations in which Pandora's box is better left with the lid intact. That's the way I felt when I first found out Peter was Penn, but as my wedding day creeps closer, I'm not so sure that's how I feel anymore. Maybe that's why checking the weather for this weekend was the last thing on my mind.
Vivi flicks her ponytail over her shoulder, saying, "You're the first wedding being held at Summerhill. I think Hugo's freaking out a little bit."
"It's good it's only me and Duke. Trial run."
"Ri-ight." Vivi closes the fridge, examining me with her mom eyes. "What's wrong with you? Besides the fact you're marrying one of our closest friends for fakesies."
I know she's being funny, but her words hit with the swiftness of an arrow.
I bite my lip. Look away. Try like hell to keep from feeling the tsunami of emotions rising up inside me, over and over. But the truth is, I can't. Everything is too big. Too much.
"I'm in love with him, Viv."
She grabs me, wraps me in her arms. For all her tough, brash talk, she is a nurturer at heart. My tears spill over, dammed up for too long. She lets me cry, and when the tears subside, she stands back, looks me directly in the eyes, and says, "Timing has not been kind to you."
I sniff, pulling two tissues from the box on my coffee table and loudly blowing my nose. "I don't know what to do."
"Is there an alternative?"
"Sure." I shrug like the answer is too easy. "Upend my life."
"I know that, but I mean, is there an alternative you would actually choose ?"
Confusion knits my brows. Vivi blows out a heavy breath. "I mean, is there something between upending your life and getting what you want?"
Her phone rings as soon as she's done with her question. "It's my mom," she says, answering with a, "Hey, Mama."
Does Vivi know she smiles when she talks to her mom? Pain slices across my heart. It's premature grief from expected future loss, because my next thought is How many more phone calls will I have with my mom?
While Vivi is answering her mother's question (something about how to cut a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for the kids the way Vivi does it), I go down the hall, sit on my bed, and call my mother.
Bonnie answers. "Hello, dear."
Disappointment flashes through me. I'd wanted my mother to pick up, to hear the familiar way she says my name when she answers my call.
"Hi, Bonnie. Can my mom talk?"
"She's napping right now, but I bet she'll be up soon. She's so excited for this weekend, it's been interrupting her sleep."
Nails from the hand I'm not using to hold a phone curl into my palm, pressing deeply until the pain of a physical sting distracts from the emotional.
"I think I'll come by for a visit, unless you have an appointment you need to get to."
"We'll be here," she responds. "Busy day around the farm. The feed store made its delivery, your dad has been running tours all day, and now he has a visitor waiting for him in his study. Handsome young man showed up about ten minutes ago, but he didn't seem very happy."
This has me straightening. "Did his visitor drive up in a truck?"
"Let me see," she says, and I picture her walking across the wood floor of her room next to my mother's, pulling over the lace curtain to peek. "Yep. And there's a dog sitting in the front seat. At least I think it's a dog. It could be a statue. The thing isn't moving at all."
Surprise steals through me, holding onto my breath for a few seconds. Why would Penn go to see my dad? "Thank you, Bonnie," I choke out, miserably failing at my attempt to sound normal. "I'll see you soon."
I rush out to the kitchen just as Vivi is hanging up with her mom. "What?" she demands, eyebrows drawn when she sees the frenzied look on my face.
"Penn is at my parents' house." The sentence rushes from my mouth, sounding like one long word.
She grabs my forearms, steadying me. Had I been swaying?
"Do you think he's telling your parents the truth about you and Duke?"
I shake my head. "He wouldn't do that."
"Then what else does he have to say to them? Sorry I nearly bashed your daughter's head in fifteen years ago. " She rolls her eyes, like it's absurd.
Vivi's words tumble around my brain. Sink in. Spread out.
My heartbeats pick up pace. "Vivi, that might actually not be far off."
"But, Daisy," Vivi gazes at me with concern. "He did that already. After the accident. We were all there. Penn was beside himself. He was sobbing, and apologizing to your parents. Don't you remember?"
"Yes," I whisper. I try not to think of that day, the horror in my best friend's voice. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I love her.
"I need to go to my parents' house. Now."
"Well, duh. Of course. I'd drive you there, but I have to get to the restaurant." Vivi winds her purse strap over her shoulder. "I'm catering a wedding this weekend, but I'm not one hundred percent sure it's going to happen. I could tell you the whole situation, but you might not believe me." She winks at me. "If you hear word the wedding is off, tell me, ok? That's a lot of food prep for nothing."
"I promise," I tell her, gathering my purse.
"Are you still staying the night with me tonight?"
We'd decided on the plan weeks ago. I try for a smile, but it feels off. "Wouldn't miss a night with my best babe."
"I'm making almond cake petit fours with strawberry rhubarb jam in a lemon curd buttercream."
I nearly laugh. That's the wedding cake flavor I didn't choose.
"And a bottle of crisp bubbles to go with bedtime stories and songs."
"Everything I dreamed of for the night before my wedding." I really can't think of a better way to spend my time.
"Girls gone mild," Vivi confirms.
I'm right behind her out the door, waving to her as we climb in our cars. She blows me a kiss, saying, "Let me know if I need to crack any skulls."