52. The Final Answer
Maria
A few days later...
"I'm not sure I know who to invite." I stare down at my phone and its list of contacts. It seems so... small.
"Who do you want to be there?" Drake calls from the other room, eagerly trying on a tux at the local tailor's. Stan and Edward are still in the back, getting measured.
"I don't know, I don't exactly have many in the way of friends."
"Chelsea's your friend, isn't she? What about her and her little troupe of men and kids?"
"I don't even know if she'd want to come. Her life is busy and..."
"Maria." Drake pokes his head out of the changing room door. "Either you call her or I'm going to."
"God, you're impossible. Fine." I tap on Chelsea's name and start typing out a message to send. "This renewed sense of self-confidence is starting to get annoying."
"Oh, you love it." He disappears back into the changing room.
"You've been in there an awfully long time. Do you need help with the zipper or something?" I call out.
Though, it could be a little exciting to sneak in there and...
Stop it, Maria. You sound like some kind of pervert.
"Cumberbunds aren't exactly easy to put on. There!"
He finally steps out and I can't help the smile that blooms on my face. His suit is no different from Stan's and Edward's, yet there's something about seeing Drake in a suit that's... I can't find the words to it.
The hope dies in his eyes.
"You hate it."
"No, Drake, I love it! You just left me speechless is all." I stand from my seat and lead him over to the mirror. "See? You look absolutely dashing."
He turns this way and that, examining his reflection. That confidence roots itself in his expression once more.
"I guess I do look good. Speaking of which, have you hunted down a dress yet?"
"I have." I waggle my eyebrows at him. I'd been trying to keep it a secret, but I'm not going to lie to his face. "I found the perfect one, too."
"It better be. Or else you can kiss that ring of yours goodbye."
"Oh my God, you're terrible." I give him a playful shove and leave him to get undressed. I finish typing out my message to Chelsea and hit "Send."
Four things taken care of. Now I just need a venue, someone to do the cake, and...
My phone pings.
>>Of course we'll be there, dummy! What made you think I wouldn't want to come to your ceremony??
>>I don't know, Chelsea, you've got so much going on.
>>Not so much that I can't make time for you! Look, I can even hook you up with the places I used for my ceremony. What do you have left to do?
>>Other than the dress and suits? Pretty much everything else.
>>When you're done there, come over to my place and I'll give you everything I have.
>>Thanks, Chelsea.
"Well, don't you look all smiles." Drake returns with his suit reattached to the hanger.
"Chelsea responded. She said she'd help me with some things."
"See?" He leans in and kisses me on the cheek. "You don't always have to deal with everything alone, remember? Someone smart told me that."
"That someone doesn't know when to take her own advice." I hook an arm around his neck and pull him in for another kiss. "I'm proud of you, Drake."
A hot blush washes over his cheeks.
"You're supposed to be the blushing bride, remember?" He thumbs at my chin before carrying his suit to the front of the store.
How did I get so lucky?
After we’ve finished dealing with the suits, we take a trip over to Chelsea’s so that she can give me everything she has. From florists to decorators to a catering service. Everything presented to me on a silver platter.
“You’re too good to me, Chelsea.”
“It’s what you deserve.” She winks at the guys. “It’s what you all deserve.”
I tuck all of her papers into a folder and look them over in the car as Edward drives us back to his apartment.
“You know, after this union thing, it might be better to look for a new place. Where all of us can fit,” he suggests.
“Do you know how much an apartment that big might cost us?” Drake groans from the back seat.
“Who says it has to be an apartment? I was thinking an actual house at the edge of the city. A nice yard, a quiet street... It could be nice.”
“I didn’t fancy you for a white picket fence kinda guy,” Drake retorts. “But if you think we can make it work finance-wise, I won’t complain about it.” He rolls the window down and closes his eyes at the comforting breeze. “It would certainly help with my writing, that’s for sure.”
“And Alex could use the extra space once he starts growing,” I chime in. Once he starts school, he’s definitely going to get more rambunctious.
Once home, I flop onto the couch and shut my eyes. I still have a lot of work ahead of me. I feel exhausted.
Without warning, a pair of hands have slipped my shoes off and start rubbing my feet. Another is working on the knots in my shoulders. When I open my eyes, Drake is sitting on the floor next to me.
“You look like you could use a break. We could take care of dinner tonight.” He raises a hand to stop me from interrupting. “Now before you say anything, I’ve actually gotten better, so no taking the batteries out of the smoke detector this time.”
“He’s right, he has gotten better,” Edward chimes in. “He managed to boil an entire pot of spaghetti without burning it.”
“Oh, that is progress,” I snicker under my breath. Drake rolls his eyes.
“Alright, yack it up, you two. If you’re going to be like that, maybe I should just order pizza.”
“We had pizza yesterday,” Stanley reminds us.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, Drake. I take it back. I’m sure whatever you’re going to make tonight will be wonderful.” I don’t want to damage his pride now that his self-confidence has been built back up again. “What were you planning on making?”
“Seafood gumbo and cornbread.” He holds up a box of cornbread mix. “I don’t know how to make it from scratch, so...”
“Are you making it without okra?” I ask, wrinkling my nose.
“The cornbread?”
“No, the gumbo.”
“I can, I guess.” Drake tosses the box mix onto the counter and starts rifling through the freezer and cupboard for his ingredients.
“What’s that I hear? Someone doesn’t want to eat their vegetables?” Edward leans over my shoulder and kisses my cheek. “Alex would be disappointed.”
“Well, he’s not here and we’re not going to tell him. Okra’s slimy and gross anyway.” The thought of eating the stuff almost makes me gag.
“Maybe if you slather it in some cheese...”
“Oh, don’t you start.” I push his face away. I don’t need him judging me right now. “Did we ever decide what kind of cake we should get?”
“Chocolate!” Drake barks from the kitchen.
“I’m fine with white,” Stanley chimes in.
“And that’s why you’re the boring one,” Drake retorts.
“How about we let Maria decide?” Edward says sternly to prevent the situation from devolving into another argument.
“... what about a tiered cake? We can make each level be a different flavor. That way, everyone gets what they want.” It seems like the easiest solution. Plus I’m not really partial to cake, anyway.
“Has anyone ever told you you’d be a good legal mediator?” Edward digs his fingers deeper into my shoulders and I can feel the tension melting away.
“No, but if my clients would be anything like you three, no thanks.”
The room is filled with yells defending their characters and I can’t help but laugh.
As much as I thought this was going to be a lot of work at first, being with these guys has been the easiest experience of my life. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
THE END