Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
After breakfast, I threw the washed clothes into the dryer, then started a list of groceries I’d need for the next week.
I didn’t know if Brad would want to eat breakfast or supper at my apartment, if we’d go out most nights, or if I’d want just a salad for my lunches.
After all, I had to make sure my wedding gown would still fit, so I needed to watch my calories.
I didn’t want another dilemma and, as usual, I had to weigh my options. Calming my qualms with a logical decision, I thought I should stock up. My parents would arrive in a week, and Rita might also join us prior to the wedding, so any food I bought surely wouldn’t go to waste.
When the dryer ended its cycle, I grabbed my list and purse to head out the door.
My phone rang just as I slid into the driver’s seat.
Seeing the caller ID, I greeted Brad’s sister, Angela, with a hearty hello.
I hadn’t informed her of my decision to come home early, though I suspected her brother had.
“Do you want company?” she asked.
“I would love some later. I’m on my way to the grocery store and can buy the fixings for lunch if you’d like to join me here.”
“I’m in the mood for ham and Swiss on rye.” She giggled about her audacity before asking, “Am I too bold?”
“Not at all,” I said, glancing at my watch, “and I’ll be ready for you, even by noon.”
“That sounds great, though it might be closer to 12:30 for me since I still need to muck stalls.”
“Better you than me,” I teased. “Come over whenever you’re ready. I need to pick your brain about a few things.”
“Is everything okay?”
I laughed. “I just need to vent with another woman because I’m not sure Brad would get it. At least, I don’t think he would.”
“Are you venting about my brother?”
“No,” I said with a chuckle. “I’m worried about everything, yet nothing, and just need a listening ear.”
“I’m your gal, and I’ll be there for lunch. I’ll have seeded rye, please.”
I laughed. “You’ve got it.” At least, she would if the grocery store had it in stock.
We disconnected and I belted in for my ride to the grocers, which wouldn’t take more than five minutes to get there.
During that time, I thought about how much I appreciated Angela.
Brad’s sister and I shared a special bond, and I would have liked her even if she weren’t related to my fiancé.
We connected, and that meant a lot to me.
At the store, I found everything on my list, and even bought more than I planned.
I didn’t worry because my refrigerator and freezer had plenty of room, and my parents had hearty appetites.
Brad did, as well. Despite those assurances, I had a feeling I’d need to shop again for all of the visitors. A wedding was never simple.
Before Angela arrived, I made and plated our sandwiches, though I didn’t add the condiments since I thought she’d want to choose her own.
I placed jars of pickles, mayonnaise, and mustard on the counter, as well as an unopened bag of potato chips.
If she insisted on the latter, I’d have to succumb to those, too.
I put away all of the groceries, then folded or hung clothes from the dryer. Though necessary tasks, I chose to do those before checking email or writing my blog for the magazine. I wasn’t in the mood to think coherently.
Happy to see Angela pull into the parking spot behind my apartment, I opened the kitchen door to greet her. “Perfect timing! I’ve been looking forward to our get-together all morning.”
She glanced at the counter and grinned. “Look at you! Your plating rivals any fancy restaurant, and I’m so looking forward to lunch. Am I supposed to open the bag of chips?”
I laughed. “I’m dying for at least a handful, but I thought I should wait and let you decide. What do you think?”
She reached for the bag and tugged to open it. “I’ve always found that we’ll naturally know our limit, but if we deny ourselves, we’ll go crazy and overeat.”
“Me, too,” I agreed, reaching into the bag for a handful.
“Of course,” she noted, “sometimes comfort food takes on a life of its own.” We both laughed. She put a serving of chips on each plate before asking, “Mustard or mayo? Am I supposed to choose?”
“I couldn’t remember which you preferred. Pick whatever you want.”
In the end, she removed the top of her sandwich to squirt a dollop of mustard, while I did the same to spread a little mayo on mine, then we took our plates to the table. I offered iced tea, but she chose water and, finally, we were ready to eat.
“I was so happy to hear that Brad spent the weekend at the shore with you,” she said. “This new business has taken so much of his time, and I worry that he’ll burn out.”
I knew that possibility existed as a result of his PTSD, yet he also liked working outdoors. “I think he’s learning to handle the stress, and the weekends at the shore have been good. I hope Rita will continue letting me rent the upstairs apartment, but Alicia is staying there for now.”
“That’s Heather’s daughter?”
“Yes, and she’s apparently jealous that her mother is dating Wyatt. It’s like this weird triangle right now.”
“And you’re in the middle?”
I frowned, shaking my head. “I don’t think so because I let Alicia use the apartment I paid to rent, not that it’s an exorbitant sum, just so Wyatt could stay with Heather. Of course, Rita would like time with her grandson, too, so it’s all so darn complicated.”
“It’s a good thing you came home.”
I sighed loudly. “I don’t feel like I’m home.
Do you see the problem? I hate it here!” I gasped, hardly believing I’d verbalized my true feelings.
I looked away, not wanting her eyes on me.
This property had been her grandfather’s, and she grew up next door.
I didn’t mean to bash her family heritage.
“That’s what you can’t tell Brad?”
I nodded, wiping a tear from my eye, then masking emotion with a nervous titter.
“I’m crazy, right? Brad totally renovated your parents’ home, and it’s gorgeous, but I feel stifled there.
Cleaning out the consignment shop overwhelmed me, and my travel job smothers me.
I dread having my parents here telling me what I should do and when I should do it, and who knows what else can go wrong in the next two weeks! ”
She smiled gently. “You’re a mess.”
“Yes, I am,” I admitted. “If I tell Brad how I feel, he’ll run for the hills, and I wouldn’t blame him.” I looked into her eyes. “Please don’t share my horrid secret with him.”
Angela’s expression told me she understood my angst. “You have my word. Let’s deconstruct all of that, and see if we can figure out a course of action.” She took a bite of her sandwich as if to let me know I wasn’t a lost cause.
I felt like one, but hoped she could help me.