Chapter 30 Jake
What the fuck was that?
Jake groaned into his pillow, the light in the bedroom too bright through those damn gauzy curtains. It was mid-afternoon, and he was desperately trying to sleep the day away, having been awake all night. His plan was to sleep the next few days away until the Big Day was over.
There it was again. Knocking. On the front door. Shit.
Jake dragged himself out of bed, pulled on some shorts, ran a hand through his matted hair, and stumbled into the darkened living room. It was cooler in here, too. Maybe he should nap in here, where the window coverings were heavier.
He pulled open the front door. A middle-aged woman, wearing overalls emblazoned with hippy floral embroidery, and a beaming smile, stood on the step.
“Hello! You’d be Mr. Johnson, I’m guessing?”
“Uh, yeah.” Jake just about stopped himself from yawning. “And you are?”
“Briony Ratchet, of Briony’s Blooms. Is Olivia home?”
Jesus. Does this woman not watch the news?
Even though he longed for anonymity, it always amazed Jake when people didn’t know the story of his missing fiancée.
Everybody in the world should know.
“No. She’s not — not home. Can I help?” he added reluctantly.
“Absolutely!” She beamed again. “I have Olivia’s bridal flowers for tomorrow. She arranged delivery for today, ooh, way back in April?”
Fuck, the flowers. Jake hadn’t even thought about the flowers.
“—explained she’d need space in her refrigerator. Has she prepared it?”
“Uh, sure. There’s plenty of space.” Their extravagant, stainless-steel, double-door fridge, another thing Liv had insisted on, was virtually empty. It had been for weeks.
“Great! I’ll bring them in. If you can leave the front door open and direct me to your refrigerator.” The woman thudded down the porch steps to her small white van, with a floral motif that matched her overalls on the side.
What was he going to do with all the wedding flowers?
Watch them die slowly in his fridge. Then compost them.
Liv had started a little compost heap at the side of their yard, to which he’d managed to add the occasional orange peel since she’d been gone. It would be poetic to see all the bridal flowers rotting on there. A metaphor for his life.
Briony trotted into the house, carrying a magnificent circular bouquet of white roses and peonies, with silvery green foliage.
He could just imagine Liv carrying it as she walked down the aisle toward him.
The woman slid a box onto a shallow shelf in the fridge.
“There are six buttonholes and three bridesmaid posies in here,” she explained, as she turned to leave.
“I’ll just be back with the twenty pew-end arrangements. ”
What in God’s name was a pew end?
Jake slumped onto the couch, leaving Briony to it.
She returned with two more flat boxes, which she had to rearrange some fridge shelves to accommodate. She seemed unimpressed with Jake’s lack of interest, or assistance.
“These go on the end of the chairs on each side of the aisle, ten rows each side,” she told him, even though he hadn’t asked. “They’re all on ribbons, so they’ll be easy to fix.”
“Great,” Jake replied, looking at his phone, pretending to read. “Is that it?”
“That’s it. Congratulations. I hope you have a wonderful day.” The grin she’d greeted with him had long disappeared. “Say good luck to Olivia.” Her face said: She’ll need it.
Jake guided her out of the house. “Thanks. Take it easy.” Before she could say anything, he closed the door behind her, a quiet slam.
Man.
He lay back on the couch in the cool, low light, picking up his phone again. He’d had several missed calls from Liv’s mom over the past week, plus one voicemail and two texts, one from a couple of days ago.
Hi Jake, it’s Tilly—
As if she didn’t know her name would come up.
I called a few times and left you a voice message to see if you’re doing OK.
It’s been very hard with the wedding date this weekend and I’m sure you’re going through hell right now.
I’d love to see you. Maybe we can support each other through these tough few days.
Charlotte said a friend of hers ran into you and you seemed very down.
Please call me back, I’m worried about you. Hugs, Tilly xoxo
He hadn’t replied.
What could he say to her?
Hi, Tilly, yes, I know, I was supposed to be marrying your daughter in a glorious celebration of love and commitment tomorrow, but instead she’s disappeared off the face of the fucking earth and we’re all devastated, and the internet thinks I murdered her and somehow disposed of her body, so now I’m a social pariah slash local joke, and I have thirty exquisite floral arrangements sitting in my fridge, and a wedding gown that will never be worn hanging up in my beautifully curated bedroom, in which I can no longer afford to live on my single income.
But I can never get a higher-paid job because aforementioned social pariah, and I can’t go back to my old job that doesn’t pay enough unless I sell our home, which is the one place that makes me feel close to Liv, like she’s still here, because I’m surrounded by her scents, and her fabrics, and her creative inspiration, except it also makes me miss her so much I want to stab myself in the chest. And I have absolutely no fucking clue how I can exist in a world that doesn’t have her in it. You want to talk about that?
Jake threw his phone down on the rustic coffee table and let out a wordless yell into the vaulted ceiling.
It didn’t help.
He buried his face into a silver velvet pillow, pulling the soft gray blanket over him, despite the warmth of the day.
Maybe the couch would swallow him up. Maybe he could be absorbed into the very fabric of the house itself.
Then he could haunt the next owners for all eternity, the house becoming renowned as the place where Jilted Jake, heartbroken groom, roamed the open living area every night, wailing into the ceiling.
Jesus.
His phone tinkled on the coffee table, taunting him with its unreasonably jaunty melody.
He sat upright and turned the phone over.
Burt Grainger.
Shit. Tilly was bringing out the big guns.
Jake blew out a long stream of breath. He’d have to talk to them sooner or later. Maybe now was as good a time as any to face the discordant music.
He hit ‘Accept call’.
“Hey, Burt,” he sighed.
“Jake. Thank goodness. We’ve been trying to reach you. Tilly’s called you numerous times.”
Three, but who was counting?
“Sorry, Burt. I know she’s worried about me. I’m having a hard time right now, as I’m sure you all are. It’s not easy to talk at the moment.”
“We understand, son, but it’s not just that. It’s all these wedding arrangements. We’ve been inundated the past couple days with deliveries and set up — I mean, jeez, you didn’t cancel anything, Jake.”
No, I told you that.
“—got 100 white chairs in rows on the lawn, a pergola overlooking the creek, and a stage with a sound system on the side of the goddam terrace, for Chrissake. And the delivery guys have been insistent that because it’s all paid for, they have to deliver, and they won’t pick it up again until Sunday afternoon, as scheduled.
” Burt heaved an audible sigh. “I asked them not to set up, but they said it’s up to either Olivia Grainger or Jake Johnson to tell them that, and if we didn’t let them in the side gate, they’d dump the whole lot on our front lawn.
And you know how well that would go down with the HOA. It’s a lot, Jake. Too much.”
Shit.
“—very upsetting for Tilly. Every hour, one more thing arriving that reminds her of the wedding that won’t be happening tomorrow. Son, I know you’re hurting, but you gotta make some calls . . .” Burt trailed off.
Jake leaned back against the pillow, fingers pinching his nose as he fought the nausea flooding his throat.
“Burt, I’m sorry it’s upsetting for you and Tilly, I really am.
I gotta admit I didn’t think it all through when I took over payments for the wedding .
. . how it would affect you guys, when the date finally came.
I just didn’t want to cancel, you know? I thought that even if there was the tiniest chance of Liv coming back, I wanted to have it all in place for her.
” He blinked rapidly, a tear sliding down the side of his head.
“I couldn’t bring myself to undo everything she’d put so much thought and energy into. I just couldn’t do it, Burt.”
“I get that, Jake. More than you know.” Jake knew it took Burt a lot to admit that.
“There was a huge part of me that didn’t want to cancel my little girl’s big day either.
But our yard has been goddamn transformed into a wedding venue, and it’s breaking Tilly’s heart.
I’ve got all the curtains closed. And I can only imagine what’s going to happen tomorrow, when the caterers show up with all the food and drink.
I mean, at the very least, you gotta call them, right?
It’d be such a massive waste. I’m sure they’re already working on the food. The cake will already be made.”
Fuck. The food.
Jake pulled his thighs to his chest, resting his head on his knees. This was a nightmare.
Why hadn’t he just canceled everything, like they’d asked?
It would have saved him a fortune, too. The rest of the payments had come off his credit card over the past couple of weeks, and he was now out nearly fifty thousand bucks. Pretty much all of his and Liv’s savings.
“I’ll call the caterers, Burt. I will. And I’ll make sure the band and photographer don’t show up tomorrow. I’m pretty sure you guys have already told all the guests and the officiant not to come. Can you live with the rest of the stuff, the chairs and the stage, until it gets picked up Sunday?”
Burt sucked his teeth. “Not really, Jake. Tilly is climbing the walls. I’m gonna have to take her away tonight for a few days, maybe until Monday.
I’ll book us a hotel upstate, there’s a spa place she likes.
Just be here Sunday to supervise the pick-up, okay?
Make sure it’s all gone. You still have Liv’s key to our place? ”
Jake nodded, although Burt couldn’t see him.
“Absolutely. The whole place will be de-weddinged by the time you’re back Monday, I swear.
” His chest was tight. “I’m sorry, Burt.
I really didn’t mean to cause you guys extra pain, Burt.
Please give Tilly my apologies. I was only . . . trying to hold on to hope.”
“I know, son.” Burt’s voice had softened. “We’re all still hoping — we’ll always hope. Just because tomorrow isn’t happening, it doesn’t mean any of us have given up. We’ll never stop looking for Liv.”
Jake hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear that. He felt a little bit less alone. “Thanks, Burt. You have a good trip.”
Jake pressed “End call” and slumped into the couch cushions again, his thoughts racing.
He’d call the caterers in the morning. All the food was paid for, so it may as well get prepared, and he was sure he could get it donated to the soup kitchen that his non-profit had ties to.
Plus, he could probably get a refund on the unopened crates of drinks.
The main thing was Burt was right. Canceling the wedding wasn’t the same as losing all hope Liv would be found.
And while Jake might want to die right now, he had to live.
For Liv.