Chapter 16
sixteen
MARILEE
There’s nothing so funny—or so uncanny in its ability to distract me from my troubles—as seeing a gorgeous, legitimate princess shove her perfectly regal feet into hideous bowling shoes.
Chloe’s blonde curls fall in curtains around her as she leans forward to tie the shoes. The red and black monstrosities clash horribly with her creamy white slacks and blue wraparound blouse, but she doesn’t seem to care as she laughs while finishing up a story about the last event she coordinated through her business, Something Blue. “And then, the bride showed up with a replacement ring bearer—her pet piglet.”
“No!” April cackles from her spot on the bench beside Chloe. She pours herself a glass of Dr. Pepper from the pitcher Lucy set down moments ago. “That’s amazing.”
“I can top that easy,” says Elisse, who’s sitting behind the computer inputting all of our names into the bowling lane we’ve rented for a Thursday girls’ night out at the Bowl O’Rama one town over. Or rather, nicknames she’s given us: Preggers (Lucy), Princess (Chloe), Sissy (Kelsey), Bestseller (April, who blushes and rolls her eyes at Elisse’s belief in her author-ly future), Boss (herself), and Wifey (me… yay, thanks for the reminder, Elisse ).
Elisse pivots to face the rest of us, save her twin, who is still at the rack of balls trying to use her big brain to select the one that will help her win (whereas most of us chose what was lightest or prettiest). “For the wedding at the vineyard last weekend, the bride told all of her bridesmaids to dye their hair green to go with the Beetlejuice theme. Which, ew, why?” As of last summer, Elisse works part-time for Chloe, coordinating events at her family vineyard and part-time for her parents doing marketing for wine tastings and purchases. “She changed the theme at the last minute, but one poor bridesmaid did not get the memo.”
“Oh no!” We all laugh, and then Elisse launches into boss mode with a “Preggers, you’re up.”
Lucy stands and salutes, gathering a ball and tossing it granny style down the lane, where it gutters before even reaching the pins. She shrugs and sashays to the ball retrieval to wait. Several disco balls glitter overhead in the alley, which is hopping tonight, mostly with older ladies and church groups. Over the speakers, Kelly Clarkson’s singing about being stronger even though she’s gone through pain.
I’m not sure if that’s true of me, but I want it to be.
Suddenly, there’s a gentle hand on my upper arm. “Mare, you okay?” Kelsey’s soft voice—the total opposite of her twin sister’s—is low, but everyone seems to snap to attention around me.
Her brow furrowed, Lucy ignores the ball that spins up from the ball return and stalks over to sit on my other side. “I’ve been wondering the same thing. You’ve been so quiet.”
Everyone else leans in.
Can they sense the internal battle I’ve been having for the last five days, ever since Jordan kissed chocolate off of me? When my brain got so muddled that it couldn’t catch up to what was happening, and I felt both relief and disappointment when Ryder interrupted us? When he called me Mommy and made every dream of mine come true—just before reality crushed my spirit?
“I…”
Just then, a waitress delivers two pizzas, three baskets of fries, and some buffalo wings. We all turn to Lucy with amused looks because she was only supposed to order us a few baskets of pretzel bites.
“What?” She snatches a fry. “I’m hungry.”
It must beat being sick all the time. I bump her with my shoulder. “Glad to see you doing better.”
“Same, girl, same.” Lucy pulls a slice of pizza off the greasy aluminum platter and shoves it onto a paper plate, then glances around at all of us. “Well, come on. Don’t let me be the only one eating.”
That’s all it takes for us to grab our own plates and dish up. “Chloe, how’s wedding planning going?” The fries are a bit salty for my taste, but better if drowned in ketchup, so I dunk one and blow on it before bringing it to my mouth.
She fingers the tie of her shirt as she gently swirls a cup of ice water. “Flutterbum’s at it again.”
We all giggle behind our food because, thanks to Chloe, we are all quite familiar with the antics of Kentonia’s official wedding planner, Felicia Butterflum, who is a force to be reckoned with. The thing is, so is Chloe, and as she launches into story after story of Felicia’s attempts to overrun Chloe’s big day with ridiculous royal demands, I find myself thankful that Jordan and I didn’t have to go through all of that. The only regret I have is that all of our friends weren’t there…
Then I catch myself.
Because what…?
I blink at my half-eaten pizza, which turns to cardboard in my mouth. When did I start thinking of our wedding day as real ?
I push my plate aside and grip my stomach, which tightens.
“You look pale,” Lucy whispers in my ear. “Like you’re going to throw up. And believe me, I know what that feels like. You need help getting to the bathroom?”
“No. I’m okay. I think.”
Lucy rubs my back, concern etched on her features. “What’s going on, then? Is it work?”
“No, although…”
My friends are suddenly quiet again. Geez. I’m not used to being the center of attention. But each one of them—even the often-grumpy Elisse—is gazing at me with love in their eyes. Full acceptance. They want to know, truly know, what’s going on in my life. And too often, I keep things inside or only share what I’m thinking with one or two people. Usually Jordan.
Lately, though…
Chloe wipes her mouth with a napkin. “Although what?” she prompts with her gentle accent. Despite the rocking music blaring through the space, we feel cocooned in this moment. “Last we heard, you agreed to take over for Marla. When’s that go into effect?”
“Supposed to be the end of the month.” So, like, two weeks. “We’ve spent the last week training on the budgeting and billing systems, the backend stuff. It’s a lot more technical than I thought it’d be.”
“I remember how overwhelming that was when I ran the Robin for a few months last year when Winona was out of town.” Lucy pats my knee. “But you’ll figure it out.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“You don’t seem all that excited about it, though.” Kelsey shifts in the seat to face me better, smoothing her hand down the front of her denim bib pants she’s paired effortlessly with a cute white tee. “Are you worried about financing? Or having second thoughts?”
Leave it to insightful, observant Kelsey to give words to what I’ve been feeling ever since I told Marla I’d take over.
A group of older ladies with bright pink jackets shuffle into the lane behind me, talking loudly. The shared bench creaks as a few of them take their seats.
I raise my voice so my friends can hear me. “I mean, I got the loan secured, thanks to Jordan. So that’s not the issue.” I press my lips together. “Something’s been bothering me, but I’m not sure if it’s just fear that I won’t be able to do it, or something else.”
“Maybe,” Chloe says. “I was definitely fearful before I took over Something Blue, but there was also this excitement bubbling up inside of me at the thought. Do you feel any of that, or solely the fear?”
“Mostly the fear, honestly.” I shake my head. “But I don’t know why. It’s the most practical option. When the custody battle’s over, and Jordan and I get our marriage annulled, I’ll need something solid to fall back on.”
“You know, I haven’t seen any of your cakes on display lately at the bakery.” April refills her soda for the third time. Her hands shake a bit, and come to think of it, her eyes look slightly bloodshot, like she’s fighting to stay awake. Maybe another one of her self-imposed deadlines is looming. “Are you still taking orders?”
I sigh. “I haven’t had time.”
“But you love that. Maybe once you take over for Marla, you’ll be able to add more of that in?”
“I don’t know. As she’s telling me everything she does in a day, I can see why she doesn’t do much of the baking anymore. I think I’ll probably have to hire someone to do it once she’s gone and I’m the one running the business end of things. Her granddaughter, Lexi, is willing to work more, but her college schedule keeps her pretty busy.”
“Ugh, but Mare…” Lucy trails off, tugging on the end of her braid as she frowns. “Sweet macaroni. That’s like who you are. You’re a baker. A cake decorator.”
I lift my chin. “And now, almost, a business owner.”
“Of a business that’s not your own,” Elisse says.
She opens her mouth to say more, but at that moment, an employee with a mohawk saunters over, pointing at our lane. “Hey, if you guys aren’t gonna bowl, we’ve got a line out the door waiting for a turn. Mind hurrying it along?”
In a flash, Chloe’s bodyguard Tia emerges from the shadow and holds her hand to the guy’s chest, her menacing dark eyes hovering over him. “Move along.”
“Yeah, back off, dude.” Elisse bares her teeth at him. “We paid for two hours on this thing, and we’ll use it however we want.”
The college-aged guy holds up his hands and backs away like she and Tia are both feral animals, muttering a few expletives under his breath.
Shaking out her short bob, Elisse returns her attention to me and waves her hand. “As I was saying, don’t you want to make the bakery your own? Or better yet, go out on your own. I thought part of your agreement to marry Jordan in the first place was so he would invest in you.”
“It was, but?—”
“But what? So far it just seems to me like he’s getting all of the benefits out of this arrangement. Free babysitting, a housemaid, a personal chef.” She arches an eyebrow. “Unless there are other benefits we aren’t aware of?” At that, her lips quirk into an evil smirk.
I press a fist against my stomach again, which roils some more. Because all I can think about are his lips on my cheek. His tongue tracking down my neck. His warm breath gliding across my collarbone.
And how I wanted, how I ached for him to aim all of his attention at my mouth…
“Um.”
That one word has my friends in hysterics. Lucy shakes my hand and practically screams, “What? Tell us everything.”
I groan and bury my burning face in my hands. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Let’s start at the very beginning…” Chloe singsongs in a perfect Julie Andrews impression.
So I do. I let it all fall out—every word, every look, every shift in my feelings, my attraction, my fear.
My confusion over whether he actually sees me as more than a friend. (Every single one of my gal pals says, “Oh yes, absolutely, no freaking doubt.”)
Ryder calling me “Mommy.” (To which all of my friends say “Aw!!”)
My fear of scarring him for life. (They reminded me that he’s a kid, he’s resilient, and to just think of what will happen if I do give this a chance and we do end up together and he’s permanently my kid—something I cannot even allow myself to think about, because how can I ever come down from that hope?)
And, of course, they go absolutely bonkers—April even standing up and pumping her fists with a silly little dance—when I tell them about sleeping in the same bed, about the chocolate incident, and finally about how he invited me to preview the tent glamping site with him this weekend.
“You’re going, of course?” Elisse says matter-of-factly.
“Well…”
“You’re not going?” Lucy squeaks.
“I’m not not going…”
“Ah. You haven’t answered him yet.” That’s Chloe, always the wise one.
“That’s okay, Mare,” Kelsey says, giving me a one-armed hug. “This is all a big decision. You don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”
“Oh, I’m sure he didn’t mean we had to stay in the same tent or anything.”
“So, what’s the holdup then?” Elisse crosses her legs and leans in tighter, ignoring the glares Mohawk Man keeps shooting her way.
“I just…” I blow out a breath, trying to quiet the noise in my brain, to tune out the noise in the room, the noise of everyone’s expectations. “I just don’t want to make another mistake, like I did with Donny.”
Their eyes all shutter with sudden sympathy. “Aw, Mare.” Lucy grabs my knee, giving it an affectionate shake. “This is completely different. Jordan is different.”
“I know that. But I’m not different.”
“Except you are. You’re stronger with him by your side. An even better version of the incredible woman you already are. And that’s because he loves you the way you deserve to be loved.”
“I don’t understand why he would.” And that’s the truth of it. “He should be with someone like Amy Montrose. Someone who’s young and unencumbered. Someone who can give him…” I glance at Lucy, at her stomach. She licks her lips as her eyes fill with tears, and she grips my hand. “Who can give him what I can’t.”
The others squint at me, probably confused, but this isn’t the moment when I want to go into all that I’ve lost.
April shakes her head. “Thing is, Mare, the heart wants what it wants. And I think that Jordan’s telling you—that he’s been telling you for a while—that he doesn’t want Amy Montrose or any other woman you might deem perfect for him. He wants you. The question is simple: Do you want him?”
“Yes,” I finally allow myself to admit.
The rush of joy that follows is drowned by the fear. But if I’m really stronger with Jordan, if he builds me up instead of tearing me down, then I can face the fear, right? “At least, I think so. But I don’t know what to do about that.”
“My dear, what you need is a proper date.” Grinning, Chloe pulls a notebook and pen from her oversized Gucci purse. “And lucky for you, tomorrow is Valentine’s Day—and I just so happen to excel at planning.”
“We can all help,” Kelsey says. “If you want our help.”
“I do.” I straighten, breathing in the stale bowling alley air. “Thank you, friends, for helping me to be brave.”
“Thank you for letting us help you.” April smiles through her clear exhaustion. “It’s a privilege. You deserve happiness more than anyone else I know, Marilee.”
“She’s right.” Elisse rubs her hands together. “And we’re going to help plan the best Valentine’s Day you and that fake husband of yours have ever seen.”
“Maybe”—Chloe winks—“one so good that he won’t be your fake husband for long.”
The thought scares me to death, like the loop on a roller coaster I don’t see coming. But I’m as ready as I’m going to be, and maybe it’s time to just let go. To lift my arms into the air and enjoy the ride.
“Okay, then. Let’s do it.”
Come what may.