Chapter 33 The Packing
THE PACKING
MAGGIE
“I can’t believe you’re really leaving,” Celeste said again.
She sat on the floor while Marla stood near the bed, helping me sort through what stayed and what I needed to pack.
Zeke told me to keep it light because the movers the Army used weren’t very reliable.
I wanted to put all of my favorite clothes in my suitcase to guarantee their arrival, but that proved difficult when I had so many hair care and makeup products.
I already had another full suitcase just for shoes.
A girl could never part with all her shoes.
“Maggie, the internet says that Asian countries have some of the best beauty stuff in the world,” Marla started, “so please explain to me why you need to take all that.”
“Because!” I wailed, stomping my foot. “I might need it!”
Celeste rolled her eyes. “You will not.”
Practical, level-headed Celeste made the call that I could only take one suitcase full of clothes.
She dutifully folded everything that remained and put it inside a box that Marla promised to keep in the closet for whenever we came back.
She was also the one who insisted I didn’t need to take all three of my hair dryers, five straighteners, and the four different sized curling wands. “You’ll make do!” she’d insisted.
I tried not to sulk. Sort of.
“Next time one of you gets married, can I please be a part of the big day?” Marla asked snidely. She flashed me a small smile that let me know she didn’t hold it against me.
“Don’t worry. For husbands two and three, you can stuff me into a dress of your choosing and conduct the festivities wherever you like,” I promised.
Marla and I both tried to ignore the way Celeste flinched. “Not all of us will get married,” she said quietly.
“Oh, just ignore me,” Marla finally offered. “I’m a bitter, old spinster.”
“You could be a crazy cat lady if you’d just buy some cats,” I offered sweetly.
“Except I don’t like cats!” Marla argued.
Our exchange brought enough of a smile to Celeste’s face that Marla and I both sighed in relief, keeping the subject on much safer topics as we worked through our designated sections.
“God, didn’t we just pack up everything at Diana’s?” I finally exclaimed. “How the hell did I accumulate so much stuff already?”
“Because you’re a hoarder,” Celeste commented while stuffing one of my many mannequin heads down into a box.
“Am not!”
Marla snorted. “Maggie, no woman has that many pairs of shoes unless she’s a hoarder. You’re lucky the store had two of the oversized suitcases.”
“I—”
“My wife, the hoarder,” came a voice from behind. “Can’t imagine that.”
For the second time today I had a man at my back, speaking low in my ear. Only this one sent tingles down my spine. Zeke placed a light kiss on my cheek as he rubbed my biceps in a gesture I found comforting rather than terrifying.
“Hey, Trouble,” he whispered. I turned to look at him over my shoulder, my breath catching again over just how gorgeous he was. Only…
“What happened to your eye?!” I yelped. “Marla, go get some ice!”
She rushed out of the room immediately.
Zeke brushed my hand away so that I couldn’t touch it. “Don’t worry about me. Who did this to your arm?” He gently tugged at my elbow so that the light better illuminated the bruise from where Spencer grabbed me.
I gulped. “Nobody.” I kept my voice as low as possible, praying that Celeste wouldn’t hear.
Zeke frowned. He pulled me into a tight embrace, his hold on my waist tight and grounding. “I won’t push in front of Celeste, but this isn’t over,” he warned in my ear.
A shiver ran down my spine, from the threat in his words or the sudden ache of arousal in my core at his savior complex, I had no idea.
“Here, Hayes, put this on.” Marla handed him a bag of ice with a thin cloth wrapped around it.
“What are you even doing here?” I asked. “I thought you needed to pack up all of your stuff.”
“I did,” he nodded.
“Everything?”
“Everything.”
“All of your stuff? Packed?” I questioned. I had three people working on mine and I was no where near ready.
Zeke laughed. “Yep. Guess I’m not a hoarder like my wife.”
I wondered if the others could notice the way he glowed when used the words “my wife.”
“So when are you getting Maggie a ring?” Celeste asked.
I tried to glare at her because I didn’t want Zeke to think of me as some magpie out to add to her collection. But I also kind of wanted to know myself.
“A ring?” he repeated.
“Well, yeah. A wedding ring is kind of a big deal.” She laughed, but I could see the growing panic in Zeke’s eyes.
“I didn’t want a ring,” I declared. “Look at all this stuff. I’d just lose it anyway!”
Celeste and Marla both laughed and went back to their prospective piles. I leaned in closer to Zeke, wrapping both my arms around his waist.
“Why are you really here?” I whispered. “Is everything okay?”
“Now it is.” Zeke kissed me on the forehead, and I all but melted into a puddle. Forehead kisses counted as foreplay in my eyes.
“When is your flight?” Marla inquired as she gathered up all of the notebooks, yearbooks, and loose leaf paper I shoved into the nightstand drawer.
“We’ll fly up to Atlanta at 0600,” Zeke replied, “then head out to Los Angeles. We’ll have about a four hour layover in L.A. before we fly out to Humphreys.”
Celeste shook her head wistfully. “I cannot believe you’re married, Maggie! And heading to live in another frickin country! That’s some powerful serendipity.”
“Sounds like y’all better get to bed soon,” Marla added.
Heat flamed my cheeks, and I pulled away from Zeke’s embrace. “Oh, um, we didn’t really think we’d get much sleep tonight. Once everything is packed, we’ll have to take all of this to the barracks so the movers can pick it up.
“Well we’ve got all the big stuff done,” my best friend pointed out. “Just load up the boxes you’re actually taking and your suitcases and head out.”
“I’m not gonna leave you here to pack up this mess!” I argued.
“Maggie, it’s your wedding night.” Celeste shot me a look that told me she wouldn’t budge on this, no matter what I said. “Take your stuff, get some rest, and enjoy your time together.”
When I looked to Marla for support, she nodded along with Celeste. “We’re gonna miss you, darlin’.” She held out her arms for a hug, first me, then Zeke. “Gonna miss you too, Hayes, truth be told. You ain’t half bad.”
Zeke chuckled, despite how stiff he remained from Marla’s hug. He seemed to be weird with anyone touching him other than me, I’d noticed. “It’s been an honor to meet you both. I’ll take care of her.”
Celeste pointed a finger at him, giving Zeke the Mom Glare normally reserved for Iris. “You better, or else!”
He nodded, giving me a look that said he knew the girls and I needed privacy before he grabbed one of the boxes to take downstairs.
“Don’t look back,” Marla insisted. “You focus on building the life you want, not on where you came from, you hear me? You got one of the good ones.” She pressed what I would consider to be a tearful kiss to my hair and swept from the room.
Marla rarely showed that kind of emotion, and a lump formed in my throat. I already missed her.
“You’re still my best friend,” Celeste vowed.
“And you’ll always be mine,” I agreed. She enveloped me in a hug that had me second-guessing my decision.
River’s Run was all I knew. How could I leave any of this behind?
Especially when Diana and Spencer’s taunts ran fresh through my mind.
I had nothing to offer Zeke other than a body to warm his beds.
I never even had a real job. Now I legally became his burden.
You’re not a burden, you’re a gift.
“Call me when you get there,” she added, breaking up my thoughts.
“Yes, Mom,” I teased her. Celeste flashed me a small smile.
Zeke came back in to grab another box, making Celeste and I jump, then laugh at ourselves.
“Trouble, grab that box there and I’ll get these. They aren’t that heavy.” Zeke stacked three boxes on top of one another and disappeared down the hallway, leaving one for me. What a showoff.
“Enjoy your new life, Mrs. Hayes!” My best friend tried to keep the heartbreak from her voice and failed miserably.
The past six years of our lives stretched between us.
One way or another, Celeste Hendricks had been present in every single one of those days, and I hated that I didn’t know when I’d see her again.
But Marla was right. It was high time I focused on the life I wanted, not the one I left behind.