6. Chapter 6
Dane
When Daria makes a run for it to the ladies’ room, my first instinct is to jump up and go after her.
But I quickly tamp that urge down and remind myself that she hates me.
Or at least, she thinks she does. She tries to be so tough and mean, but I saw the way her eyes misted when she growled that I left her on read.
But I didn’t. I wouldn’t have.
I was so enamored with her after we met that when a week had gone by without a text from her, I looked her up on social media.
But when I found her profile, I couldn’t bring myself to send her a friend request. It felt too stalkerish and desperate.
If she wasn’t into me like I was into her, I wouldn’t go begging her for a date.
So I did my best to push all thoughts of the beautiful brunette from my mind.
Now it’s clear she thinks I’m a player who never intended on contacting her. But that’s so at odds with who I really am, it’s comical. Besides, if playing her was really what I was interested in, why would I have sat and talked with her for so long at the party?
We genuinely hit it off on a deeper level, or at least I thought so. Sure, our physical chemistry was strong, but I was attracted to way more than just her looks.
I wrack my brain and try to think of what I was doing two days after that party, where I would’ve been when I got the text she says she sent. That party was on a Friday or Saturday, from what I remember, so I was most likely working two days later.
I’m still trying to remember where I flew out to that next week when Daria returns to the table with a fake smile. “Oh, great. Looks like the band’s about to start.”
She faces away from me toward the band, clearly not wanting to continue our previous conversation. But I can’t just let her continue to think I ignored her.
“Daria.” I wait for her to look at me, but when it’s obvious she’s not going to, I sigh and try again. “Daria, will you please look at me?”
She rolls her head my way with a glare.
“I did not get a text from you.” I make sure to look her directly in the eye. Hopefully she sees the truth. “Is it possible that maybe you had the number wrong?”
“How could I? You put the number into my phone.”
I run a hand over my jaw, still wondering how this got so botched up. “You’re right, I did. Maybe I put it in wrong.”
Nostrils flaring, she whips out her phone and scrolls through it with her thumb. “Here.” She shoves her phone in my face with one eyebrow raised high. “This it?”
A totally uncalled for thrill zips through me at the fact that she did keep my number, even though she said she didn’t. I want to make a joke about it, but that feels like the wrong move right now.
I scan the number I dialed into her phone on the night we met and frown. “Yeah. That’s it.”
“Well, I guess that’s settled then.” She slides the phone back into her pocket with a pinched expression. “Now, I’m done discussing it. Let’s just get this over with, all right?”
She faces away from me again, and my chest tightens. Something still isn’t right about this situation, and I feel the need to make it right.
“Daria, please—”
“Just don’t.” She won’t even meet my eyes anymore.
“Let’s just agree to play nice for the wedding and tolerate each other as best we’re able for Jamie and Parker’s sake.
I’m the maid of honor, you’re the best man…
it’s expected that we at least get along.
But beyond that, we’re nothing to each other. ”
The steel in her tone has me sighing and running a hand over my hair in defeat. It’s not that I want us to have a romantic relationship; I’m fully aware that the romance ship has sailed. But it irks me to no end that she thinks I’m someone who would just brush her off like that.
I hate being misunderstood.
Maybe it’s my OCD tendencies that have me in such a tailspin about this, I don’t know, but all I can seem to focus on is the rigid set to Daria’s shoulders and the way she keeps avoiding me.
But I need to let it go.
I need to focus on being there for my brother in the upcoming weeks. Then, as soon as the wedding is over, I can go back to letting my job consume me. Anything’s better than thoughts of how I could’ve done things differently with Daria.
After all, we’re nothing to each other.
Parker takes a long sip of his coffee, then sets it on the counter beside a box that’s half full of stuff he’s taking with him from our kitchen.
Another reminder I’ll soon be without a roommate.
But I’m not sad about it. In fact, I think it’ll be a nice reprieve.
I’ll be able to walk around naked if I feel like it…
Yeah, not likely considering how I cringe at the thought.
I’ve got another thing I need you to do, he signs.
I inwardly wince at the way the last task he had for me worked out with Daria.
The girl hates my guts, and it doesn’t look like there will be anything I can do to make her think differently.
But outwardly, I’m going to be a good big brother and do what I can to help Parker. Even if it means dealing with Daria.
“Whatever you need. Name it.” I place my palms on the counter behind me and lean back. I’ve been taking my best man duties seriously for my little brother, even going so far as to take off work for the past two weeks so I’d be available to do whatever he needed leading up to the wedding.
Being a commercial pilot with seniority has perks.
Besides, I wanted to plan some fun brother stuff we likely won’t be able to do for a while after he gets married. I’ve never had a wife, but I can only imagine that most of his time will be dedicated to his. And that’s probably how it should be.
That’s why I planned for Parker, Logan, and me to go on a camping trip with Dad this weekend. It’s a sort of last hoorah for us bachelors. Well, Dad’s not a bachelor, but he’d low-key mope around the house and drive Mom crazy if we left him out with as much as he loves camping.
Parker starts signing again, forcing me to pay attention. Jamie’s Pops and a few of his friends at the nursing home wanted to contribute something for the wedding reception.
“What is it?”
A balloon arch.
I smile as I think of a bunch of elderly people blowing up balloons and making them into something that resembles an arch. It’s actually a really sweet idea. Impractical but…sweet. “I’m guessing they’ll need some help?”
“Probably. But we want Pops to feel like he’s contributing.”
I nod. “Sure, I can do that.”
Great, thanks. T hen I’ll just need you to drop it off at Theo’s place when it’s done.
“Sounds easy enough.”
Parker rubs his hands together and smiles. Want to help me pack?
That’s the last thing I want to do. Not because I don’t want to help my baby brother but because packing is one of those things that brings my tendencies out in full force.
Just one look at Parker’s box full of stuff tells me he haphazardly tossed everything in, which means I’ll have the inexplicable urge to rearrange it all the right way.
And once I start, I’ll be elbow-deep in unnecessary organization that will only frustrate him and side-track me to the point of not getting anything else done today.
“Can’t,” I say, pushing away from the counter. “I’ve got to get to the gym, then visit the property.”
He doesn’t look convinced that I’m too busy to help him, but he waves me off and turns back to his box of stuff. He likely suspects why I’m not interested in helping him pack, but he’s too good of a brother to mention it. Once again, I’m reminded of how much I’ll miss this guy when he’s gone.
It’s the day before the wedding and there’s still a lot to do, but I’ve handled just about every task Parker has given me so far with precision. My last stop before heading over to Theo’s place to help with the final setup is the care center where Jamie’s grandfather lives.
I’m not sure what I’ll find when I walk inside this place, but I’m hoping I’ll at least be able to identify the balloon arch as something resembling…
well, an arch. But I’m managing my expectations like my therapist encourages me to do.
Hopefully there are at least some balloons blown up and ready to go.
I ask the woman at the front desk where I might find Pops.
“Oh, you must be the grandson.” I’m about to correct her, but she waves me forward as she scoots around the large, U-shaped desk.
“I tell you what, honey, that man has been working on this thing all day. But you know how it is…he loses his train of thought and well…let’s just say he needs some help. ”
I slip my hands in my pockets as she ushers me down the hall. “That’s understandable. But he did have friends helping him, right?” It saddens me to think he did a bunch of work by himself.
“Oh, he did,” the woman assures me. “Lettie and Edith were more than happy to lend a hand. But I’m not really sure either of them knew what they were doing.”
I inhale a deep breath and hope for the best as the woman whose nametag reads Tina guides me into a large open space peppered with seafoam-green couches and worn pink carpet.
“Here they are! Look how much fun they’re having.” Tina stands back with her hands clasped over her stomach, eyeing the three elderly amigos like they’re literally hanging the moon. Except they’re not hanging anything, least of all balloons on an arch.
Pops stands in a corner of the room scratching his head, looking down at a pile of white balloons the size of softballs. I’m guessing they’re supposed to be at least three times that size and taped together in a row, not laying haphazardly across the floor.
Two women, one with short, white hair, the other with grayish purple curls and giant glasses, sit at a table beside Pops, playing what appears to be a mashup of chess and checkers.
I resist the urge to groan.
“Looks like they might need your help, sweetie.” Tina pats me on the shoulder before her rubber shoes squeak with every step she takes away from the disheveled scene.
What now? I knew I’d be helping put this thing together, but I expected to see some sort of progress happening before I arrived. Jamie is expecting a balloon arch at the reception for her and the entire wedding party to enter the tent under tonight .
My first instinct is to text Parker and let him know this might be too much for them to accomplish, but I can’t shake the way he told me that Pops really wanted to do this for his granddaughter.
And I have the ability to make it happen. So I should, despite how long this is going to take…right?
If only I had some help…
A dangerous idea forms as I head toward where Pops still stands looking like he’s not quite sure where to go from here. When I reach his side, I extend my hand in greeting. “Pops?” I guess I should’ve asked Parker for his real name.
He blinks slowly, probably trying to place me even as he shakes my hand. “You’re…”
“Here to help you with the balloon arch.” I pause, waiting for any speck of recognition. Nothing. “For Jamie’s wedding?” I smile and hope that sparks a memory.
His gaze lowers to the balloons at his feet, then connects with mine. “The balloon arch. For Jamie’s wedding.”
“Exactly.” I motion toward the balloons. “Would you like some help?”
His eyebrows lift, then lower as he assesses the scene before us. I glance at the two women playing their game while I wait for his response, only to see the purple-haired one grinning wolfishly in my direction.
“Yeah,” Pops says, snagging my attention. “I think I would.”
A sigh of relief escapes me, and I pull out my phone. “Perfect. I’m just going to call in some more reinforcements and we can get started.” I pull up Daria’s phone number and quickly take stock of what supplies we might need.
Definitely more balloons.
“Hello?”
Dang, her voice sounds sultry over the phone. “Hey, Daria. I need your help.”
Silence, then, “Who is this?”
I smile, though I know she can’t see me. “I think you know who this is.”
Something that resembles a low growl vibrates through the phone. “How did you get my number?”
“Parker.”
More silence.
“Listen, I wouldn’t be calling you if it wasn’t important. I’m kind of dealing with a wedding emergency here, and I could use your help.”
A long, tired sigh echoes through the line. “Isn’t there someone else you could’ve called? Your other brother, maybe?”
“He’s busy talking my mom off an emotional ledge.
She’s been a little…overwhelmed the past few days.
” And that is no exaggeration. The formidable and intimidating Alexandra Kent has turned into an estrogen dominant nightmare, crying about how her baby boy is getting married and she’ll never see him again.
Like Jamie and Parker won’t be living just ten minutes away from her and Dad.
Logan, being the dutiful son he is, took her shopping for a gift for Jamie to get her mind off her own woes and onto something more meaningful, like welcoming Jamie into the crazy Kent family.
“Besides,” I add. “You’re the maid-of-honor. You literally signed up for this.”
There’s some rustling on the other end, and I imagine her switching the phone to her other ear. Does she push her long dark hair out of the way? Or is it up in a ponytail? Why am I wondering this?
“Fine,” she says, abruptly cutting off my train of thought. “What’s the emergency?”
I suck in a breath before filling her in on the situation.
“So now,” I say, coming to the end of my rant, “Pops needs more than a little help putting this thing together. And honestly, I don’t know where to start with supplies as I’ve never created a balloon arch before.
There are some things here already but…we may need more. ”
Just then, Pops shoves a piece of paper into my hand and points at it.
It’s an instruction sheet that lays out step by step how to create an arch made of balloons.
I give him a thumbs up, then to Daria, I say, “Scratch that. Pops just gave me directions.” I take stock of what we’ve got, then rattle off the rest of the supplies we’ll need to pull this thing off. “Think you can manage that?”
Another sigh. “I’m a perfectly capable human being, so yeah, I think I got it.”
I resist the urge to smile. “Good. We’re in the community room when you get here.”
“Got it.”
“And Daria?”
“Hm?”
I pause, genuinely grateful she’s willing to help. “Thank you.”
“Yeah. See you soon.”
When she hangs up, I slip my phone back into the pocket of my jeans and face Pops. “All right. Reinforcements are on the way.”