Chapter 3
Chapter Three
After a good cry, I pulled myself together, washed my face at the bathroom sink, and returned to finish making the meatballs. Once I had them simmering in the sauce, the trigger point vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
I thought about calling my mother, which made me realize I’d forgotten to send her the list of those who planned to attend my wedding reception. Returning to the computer, I pulled up the spreadsheet, then sent it as an attachment in an email, noting that everyone hadn’t replied yet.
She called ten minutes later. “Should I reach out to those who haven’t returned their RSVPs?” she asked.
“That would be helpful, although they have until Friday to respond. Regardless, you know some of them, and they’d probably appreciate a little nudge from you.”
“I’ll do that tomorrow, Jodie. I also intend to call your aunt. As far as your dad and I know, there’s no reason Marie can’t take a train from Baltimore to Philadelphia. I’m sure someone can pick her up from there.”
“You’re right, Mom. In fact, I’ll add transportation to my list of things we still need to assign.”
She paused a moment, probably verifying with Dad. “Don’t worry about your father and me. We’ll rent a car at the airport.”
“That works, too,” I said.
“We’re staying with you, right?”
“Yes, I’ll have the guest room ready for you and Dad. I’m excited that you’ll see the apartment Heather let me stay in while I emptied the consignment shop.”
“You showed us pictures, but it’ll be nice to see the actual place. Speaking of her, will she stay with the boyfriend?”
I took a breath. “We haven’t yet worked out those details.”
“The clock’s ticking, honey. I don’t want to pressure you, but she’s a bridesmaid, so you’ll want to make it nice for her.”
“I know, Mom, but it’s complicated because we have to also consider Wyatt and his grandmother.”
“Right, and Rita’s been a tremendous support to you. Well, it will all fall into place, so don’t worry. I’ll start working on the seating arrangements since you’ve already told me the tables seat eight.”
“Yes, and thank you, Mom. I’m so glad to have your help.”
I pressed the red button and let out a yelp of frustration. It would have been so much easier to get married without a wedding, yet it would have broken my parents’ hearts.
I’d been through experiences which were more difficult, I told myself, so I needed to get a grip. This soon would pass.
My earlier meltdown had totally dissipated by the time Brad gave a slight rap on the kitchen door and walked in. “It smells good in here,” he announced before reaching for my lips. Standing at the counter, I responded equally ardently and his kiss felt wonderful.
After our sweet embrace, I returned to reality by draining the spaghetti, then taking the garlic bread from the oven while he washed up. When he returned, I put the container of grated cheese on the table and told him, “Supper’s ready!”
“It looks delicious,” he said, taking the plate I handed him. We served ourselves before settling at the table.
“How was your day?” I asked while sprinkling parmesan on my food.
“Pretty good,” he replied as he swirled his meatballs in the sauce. He took a forkful, and his eyes lit up. “These are better than those at the Italian restaurant down the road. How’d you learn to cook like this?”
“Tony’s mother,” I said simply. “Her secret for making soft meatballs was to soak the bread in milk before mixing in the meat, then cook them in the pot of marinara sauce.”
He laughed. “Good to know.” After savoring a bite of garlic bread, he remarked, “My Mom’s specialty was meatloaf. I sure do wish she were here to help us celebrate our wedding.”
I couldn’t imagine having his mother and my mother vying for control, but I let that thought evaporate. Instead, I said, “I’m sure your parents will be with us in spirit.”
“I hope so. Did you talk to your mother today?”
“Yes, and she’s working on the seating arrangements for our reception. Don’t worry, though, because we can always make changes.”
“Are you getting nervous?”
“A little.” I twirled spaghetti on my fork, stalling. “Don’t let me get overwhelmed.”
He put his fork down and gazed at me. “What’s the matter?”
I kept my voice upbeat so as not to worry him. “Everything’s fine, although wedding preparations can be very frustrating.”
“I thought we wanted to keep things simple.”
I gave a rue chuckle. “You and I do, but tell that to Mom.”
Brad hadn’t yet met my parents since he had such a busy schedule with the startup of Quality Landscapes.
When he finally took time to relax, he came to Stone Harbor to be with me.
Then, it seemed silly to spend money for a trip to Satellite Beach since we’d see Mom and Dad in a few weeks.
Instead, I used FaceTime to introduce him, and we’d all chat on the phone.
I didn’t want him to have the wrong impression about my mother because I loved her dearly. I could say the same about my father. As an only child, though, they showered me with attention that I didn’t always want.
“In my opinion,” I jested, “weddings propel a mother’s love into overdrive. Mom will do her best to help us create a celebration we’ll always remember, but we can’t let her take over.”
He nodded. “That makes sense, but is it bothering you that she’ll assign the tables for our reception?”
“No, that’s a good job for her. I just meant that she doesn’t know everyone on our list, so she might misjudge where a person should sit.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it, honey.” He stood to return for seconds. “Would you like another helping?”
“No, thanks. What do you think about me writing a travel article focusing on Harrisburg?”
He served himself two meatballs and a slice of garlic bread, then glanced at me. “I’m sure you can find something interesting to write about the state capital, but I don’t think I can get away right now.”
“I know, so I plan to take the train myself. I can park at Paoli station, take the local to 30th Street, then Amtrak to Harrisburg.”
He gave me a supportive smile. “That’s a great idea! Would you make it a day trip?”
“Yes, on Thursday. I’ve checked the schedules, and I can be home by eight o’clock, if not before. I’ll plan my itinerary tonight since Angela and I have things to do tomorrow.”
I didn’t need his approval for my plans, nor would he be the type to question them. He would, however, cheer me on, and that reinforced my courage.
Brad knew, without my explanation, that I intended to take control over my fear of traveling alone. His eyes sparkled with delight as he said, “I’m proud of you, Jodie.” The sentiment behind those words reminded me how very special he is.
I supposed doubts about my upcoming second marriage would overwhelm me at times, but I couldn’t let them take hold. I’d loved Tony with all my heart, and it took five years of grieving before I could lift my head and begin to feel love again.
Brad opened my spirit to new possibilities, and I intended to embrace them unreservedly.