Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
L evon
Jennifer slapped her notebook on the table. She gave an exasperated sigh as she shook her head, shaking around her dark hair over her shoulders. Although her eyes were usually a bright hazel, they appeared dark and ominous today.
I tapped the notebook. “Something wrong, little bean?”
“It's just the aisle arrangement.”
“What do you mean?”
She shrugged. “I don't want Clara to have to walk with Gabe.”
“Why not?”
“Because they were dating and they just broke up.”
I frowned. “ Were dating?”
I glanced at my parents who were absorbed in their very own conversation. Mom nodded with her eyes wide with interest, looking at Dad in the same way she always had ever since they got married.
I gave them a warm grin before turning back to Jen. “So, spill the beans, little bean.”
“I hate when you do that.”
“You only hate it because you're frustrated.”
She rubbed her temples. “Yeah, I'm pretty frustrated.”
“So, what happened?”
“I thought you didn't want to hear about it?”
I shrugged. “You've piqued my interest.”
“I'm surprised you didn't catch wind of it around town. Everyone has been buzzing about it since Sunday.”
“Well, it's only Tuesday.”
“Which means word should have traveled to you by now.”
I rolled my eyes. “Jen, please.”
She stared blankly at me. “You really don't know?”
“Not more than what you told me in the car.”
“Well, she thought Gabe was going to propose, but instead he asked her to move to New York. I'm sure you're familiar with how she doesn't want to leave the Midwest. I don't think she even wants to leave this town.”
I lowered my voice and picked up my fork, playing with one of my fingerling potatoes. “I'm more than familiar with all of that.”
“I'm sorry. I thought you already knew all of this.”
“I knew about the proposal because you mentioned it.”
“Well, there was no proposal.”
I shrugged. “That really sucks.”
“You look surprised.”
“I am surprised. I mean, I wished her all of the happiness in the world. But I thought maybe she would change her ways.”
“She could possibly say the same about you.”
I shot her a hard look but kept my focus on the wedding. “Well, what are you going to do?”
She dropped her eyes to the notebook in front of her and tapped her pencil against the page. She shrugged. “Well, I have to figure out which of my bridesmaids I can move around. Moving one means moving, like, five of them.”
“Do you need help?”
“Yes, I might have to move your walking buddy.”
“Who was my buddy again?”
She squinted down at the page, running her finger over the dark pencil imprints. “Looks like it was . . . Victoria.”
“Ah, she was always a banger.”
“ Excuse me?”
I laughed. “What! Victoria is attractive!”
“Mother, are you hearing this?”
Mom perked up, her eyes sparkling with obliviousness. She shot us both grins. “I am not getting in between the two of you.”
Jen feigned shock while I chuckled with victory. As Mom turned back to Dad, I leaned over the table to get a better look at the sheet in front of Jen. There were names scribbled everywhere. I could hardly even figure out what she was doing.
“It looks like a mess,” I commented. “Do you want me to clean up those lines?”
“No, I can read it just fine, thanks.”
“Oh, touchy.”
She laughed. “I think I'm starting to really feel the stress.”
“Well, that's what your big, awesome brother is here for!”
“I sure hope you don't mind taking one for the team.”
I raised a curious brow in her direction. “And what do you mean by that?”
“Well, it looks like the best way to not disrupt literally everything is to swap Victoria and Clara.”
I dropped my fork down on my plate. I had eaten most of my food, but there were still a few pieces left I had wanted.
But I didn't want them anymore.
I kept my eyes on my plate while the anger rose in my gut, filling my chest with enough expletives to make my mother blush.
I cleared my throat. “You want to switch Clara to me?”
“I mean, it's the best course of action for now.”
“There must be a medley of alternatives.”
She eyed me suspiciously. “And?”
“ And I don't mind what you need to do as long as you don't pair Clara with me.”
“I'm not going to adjust my wedding just because of a failed high school relationship.”
I sighed wearily. “It was obviously way more than just a high school relationship—we dated for years, Jen.”
“I know you did.”
“So, just consider how it might make me feel, okay?”
She took a deep breath, stared at the page in front of her, and then nodded as she exhaled. “Okay—if I'm considering her comfort, then I can consider yours.”
“That's all I ask.”
“But if I have to do it—”
“Jennifer.”
She giggled. “You're really cute when you're mad. Have your ears always turned that red?”
I rolled my eyes. “I'm about to throw a biscuit at you.”
“Don't you dare! They're Mother's favorite and she would loathe you for wasting food.”
“Oh, is that a challenge? I think I heard a challenge.”
I reached for the plate in the center of the table, resting my fingers gently but menacingly on top of a crisp biscuit. I stared Jen down. We held our gaze for a hot minute while trying not to crack. But no matter how much I tried to be mad at Jen, it wouldn't stick.
I broke into a hearty laugh.
Mom stared at us. “I see you two resolved your differences.”
“As always, Mother,” I joked. “You know your children don't stay angry.”
“I'm glad you don't because I love you both too much to see you fight.”
“When have we ever fought?” Jen joked. “We're adults now. We know how to get along.”
“Can't say the same for your mother,” Dad teased.
Mom turned with a shocked expression and playfully punched his arm. “How dare you, Steven!”
I laughed harder. “That's where Jen gets her anger from!”
“I do not!” Jen retorted. “Mom, tell him to quit it .”
“Here they go again,” Mom joked. “You see what you've done, Steven? You've caused chaos at the dinner table.”
“It wouldn't be a proper Milford dinner without a little chaos!” Dad claimed.
The table roared with laughter. I reached for my water, happy for the distraction. As much as I still had feelings for Clara, I didn't necessarily want to talk about her. I felt bad that her plans had been spoiled, but I was also relieved that she wasn't leaving.
Old habits die hard, right? I sipped my water as the laughter at the table faded. I mean, I haven't changed much either. I'm still traveling the world—same as always.
“So, how's the seating chart coming along?” Mom asked. “Is there still time for my input?”
“No, not quite,” Jen replied. “I've been working on it and it's almost finished. I think I like how everything is set up.”
“Are we mixing the families up or keeping their tables separate?”
“I think mixing them up is a good way to get people talking to each other.”
I eyed Jen carefully and almost blurted another boundary. But I didn't want to anger her. I didn't want to make her day any more stressful than it was.
I sighed as I relaxed into my seat.
“Betsy and I have always gotten along,” Mom continued. “Your fiancé’s family has always been good to us. I would love to sit with her.”
“I think I have you guys seated together.”
“Good!”
Dad grunted. “As long as I don't have to be next to my brother.”
“In that case, I'll put you next to Uncle Donovan.”
He chuckled. “Are you trying to cause a fight on the most important day of your life?”
“I think you two could set aside your differences for a couple of hours.”
“They might just cause a food fight,” Mom teased. “They did that our cousin's wedding several years ago.”
“What's the beef with Uncle Donovan?” I asked. “Refresh my memory. I still have jet lag from being in opposite time zones.”
“Donovan has always borrowed large sums of money from me,” Dad explained. “Without any real intention of paying them back.”
“Oh, I think I remember that from a few years ago,” I recalled faintly. “You two were pretty heated around Christmas about it.”
“It's always been a hot topic for the family,” Mom added.
“Well, if he would just pay me back,” Dad groaned. “Then, there wouldn't be a huge problem.”
“He did make a payment before Thanksgiving.”
“It hardly made a dent.”
“And he did his best to help with the setup.”
“Until he got drunk and destroyed most of the setup.”
I shook my head. “I guess we can expect the same with Jen's wedding.”
“And for that reason, there isn't an open bar,” Jen responded matter-of-factly. “Everybody has to pay for their drinks. It's only fair.”
“That won't stop Donovan,” Dad joked. “Or me, for that matter.”
“Dad, you better behave.”
“I'll do my best.”
Mom giggled. “Your father is a wild card, sweetie. You should know that by now.”
“Just tell him not to embarrass me.”
“But that's my job!” Dad retorted. “That's what I do best!”
He stood up and started dancing, dramatically shaking his hips. I sat back and laughed as Jen pinched the bridge of her nose. The two of them were red in the face and I couldn't help how much harder I laughed as a result.
I shook my head. “This is going to be the best wedding ever.”
“You're only saying that because Dad is going to embarrass the both of us.”
“Oh, I'm never embarrassed.”
She snorted. “I beg to differ.”
“Well, I differ to beg.”
She laughed and grabbed her water bottle from the table. “I'll need more than water to get me through the next three weeks.”
“Should I go get the wine?”
“Wine does sound delicious after that wonderful dinner,” Mom vocalized. “I'll go get a bottle. Would you like red or white, dear?”
The question was directed at my father who still hadn't stopped dancing. He raised his hands up and shrugged. “Whatever you want, darling.”
Jen rolled her eyes. “Please, don't dance like that at my wedding reception.”
“Why not? These were the hottest moves in my day!”
Mom giggled as she retreated to the kitchen.
Jen retained her mournful expression as I chuckled harder.
“I guess you'll just have to accept this one, eh?” I teased.
“There's only so much accepting I can do before I lose my mind.”
“Hey, you've got me.”
She smiled warmly. “And I can't tell you how much I appreciate it.”
“Of course, sis. I'll always have your back.”
“And I will, too!” Dad chimed in as he took Jen's hands. “Come on, Jenny. Let's practice for our first dance together.”
“ Dad ,” she groaned. “You know I need a glass of wine first.”
He chuckled. “Alright, then. I'll quit. For now.”
We each laughed as Mom returned with a bottle of white wine and a bucket of ice. She set the bucket in the center of the table and the buried the wine into it.
“Let it chill for a minute,” she alerted everyone. “Don't be too eager, now.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Jen and I replied simultaneously.
She gave us each a grin. “You two are such good children. I'm proud of you today. You should know that.”
“Mom, don't get too sentimental yet. Save some for the wedding speech,” I joked.
“I just wanted you to know,” she expressed warmly. “I'm very proud.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Jen said. “That means a lot.”
“It does,” I agreed.
“So, Levon, do you have a date for the wedding?”
I tried not to look sour but I must have failed because my mother burst into a fit of giggles.
She wiped the corners of her eyes as she said, “Well, I guess that's a no!”
I shook my head. “No, I don't, Mom.”
“I figured you would meet a pretty French girl overseas.”
“I just don't have time to date.”
I feel like a broken record , I reflected while trying to smile. I don't have the time . . . or the willpower. There just isn't anybody like my high school sweetheart . . .