Chapter 9
Nine
Nico
The door of the sewing studio flies open like a thunderstorm has kicked up.
Mrs. Wright comes out, her heels clicking along the pavers.
I stand up from my comfy chair by the fire pit, unable to stay calm and wait indoors like I was told to. My future mother-in-law’s lips are pursed, and she somehow looks more on edge than normal.
“Mrs. Wright?” I say, cautiously.
She sees me and then fixes her face. Regaining some composure, she walks over to the koi pond and exhales, smoothing a hand over her hair.
“Where’s Becca? Is everything okay?”
She chuckles dryly. “You don’t have to pretend to be a good guy anymore, Nico. She told me everything.”
I wait for her to say more. After a long moment, she adds, “Very shrewd of you, Nico. I never would have guessed.”
Now I’m lost. “Care to elaborate?”
She looks up from the pond and meets my eyes. “I know she told you that the trust we set up for her would be available to her once she has a child.”
I know about the trust. But Becca’s dad and I had a talk about that years ago, and I assured him that I wasn’t in this family for the money.
“I hope you understand, Nico, that that money will support my daughter and any children she has. It’s not going to be for you.”
I’ve been insulted plenty in my life, but this cuts is deep.
She thinks I’m in this for Becca’s money?
Fuck that. I straighten up. “It’s not my money.
I didn’t earn it. I don’t want it. And as far as Becca and our baby are concerned, I’ll be the one taking care of them.
We don’t need your fucking family money if you can’t get it through your head that your only daughter demands so little of you.
And all she’s asking is that you ease up and let her have this one thing. It’s just a dress.”
Often, talking to this woman is like talking to a brick wall. Or as if she’s having an entirely separate conversation with someone else at the same time. “It was fun being the first mother of the bride while it lasted,” she sighs, making her way to the garden gate.
“You still are,” I remind her.
“Not anymore,” she says over her shoulder. “Your fiancée has just cancelled the wedding.”
I hear the door open again. Thinking it’s Becca, I spin around to find Quincy stepping outside. “You’d better come inside. Becca needs you.”
Becca, Quincy and I sit at Iris’s kitchen table laden with a cast iron skillet full of biscuits fresh out of the oven.
Becca has changed out of her dress and is back into her everyday clothes, and her eyes are puffy from crying.
“It’s all going to be okay, Becca,” I assure her, my arm around her.
Iris hands Becca a tissue, and she wipes her red nose. “My mom said I embarrassed her. It’s all about the math.”
I’m confused. “Math?”
Becca slumps against me. “I’m so tired,” she says.
Quincy speaks up. “Mrs. Wright says all her friends will do the math once the baby is born. And they’ll know the baby was conceived out of wedlock. Becca got so angry she called it off.”
Holy shit. “I can’t fucking believe anybody cares about that at a wedding in the year of our Lord 2026. Least of all anybody attending our wedding.”
Becca looks at me, her breath shaking as she speaks. “It’s been a while since you’ve taken a look at the guest list. The majority are not what I would call our people.”
Quincy mutters, “Not that it matters now.”
I look from Becca to Quincy and back at Becca. “Is the wedding really off?”
My heart plummets when I see the look on Becca’s face.
“We argued. She called my bluff, saying she still had time to get her deposit back for everything she and Daddy helped with for the wedding, and that she would do it. She would cancel all the vendors if Iris could not either resize the dress or replicate it to the exact detail in time for the wedding.”
Iris winces. “I feel awful, but it’s just not possible.”
Becca crosses her arms over her stomach. “I told her to go ahead and cancel everything and blame me. I told her I wasn’t going to get married on her terms, but she was welcome to come to our wedding when we’re good and ready to do it on our own.”
Quincy sits up straight. “I’m handling it.”
Becca looks at me. “Quincy can do it. Quincy, I trust with my life.”
Then, she casts a sorrowful gaze at Iris. “I hate that you did so much work for nothing.”
Iris smiles. “I’ve already been paid. Someone will buy that first dress. That’s a given. And believe me, working on the dress you loved, for the wedding you want, was a dream.”
This appears to make Becca feel a little bit better, but she shakes her head and says, “There are so many people I’ve let down. Not just you, Iris.”
Everyone around the table disagrees with that statement.
“You’re not letting anyone down,” Quincy says gently. “You just need to do what makes you happy. Your wedding day should be about you and Nico, not about anyone else’s vision.”
I rub her back. “I’m proud of you for sticking up for yourself.”
“Thank you.” Becca sniffles. Iris pushes a plate with a warm biscuit and jam over to her.
“First, eat,” Iris says. “While you’re doing that, I’m going to talk to Maddie next door and see what she can whip up for wedding music. Beyond that, I’ll bet I can find lots of people who can help Quincy pull this together for you whenever you’re ready. We’ll all figure this out together.”