Holiday Wedding (Holiday Romance-Spicy Version #2)

9

Thursday, December 12

12 days until the wedding

Gwen

Everything is the same as the last time I was in this room. There’s the couch where Caleb slept beneath my grandmother’s quilt. There’s the table where we put the puzzle together. The Christmas tree is in the corner by the fireplace. It’s not the one that Caleb, Jenny, and I decorated, but it might as well be.

This is where I fell in love with Caleb and him with me. Is this how I’ll always view things going forward? In relation to him? I hope so. I don’t mind seeing the world through a Caleb-shaped lens. He makes everything seem brighter, more beautiful.

“I can’t believe it’s been so long,” says Mom, reading my thoughts.

“I know, two years since I was here with Caleb, but it’s not like we could come back before, not with the renters.” The kitchen island has a light granite countertop covered in a menagerie of Christmas figurines. I pick up a jolly Santa, holding a bag of presents over his shoulder. I remember this one. It was there when Caleb and I danced on that long-ago Christmas Eve.

“They were such nice people. Those renters.” Mom blows a stray piece of hair, blonde like mine but shorter and curlier, out of her eyes. The grilled cheese sandwiches sizzle when she flips them over in the skillet.

Pip leans against my leg, gazing up at me with doggy adoration. Her pink tongue lolls. I scoop her up in my arms and hold her like a baby, petting and tickling her nearly furless belly.

“Thanks for bringing Pip. I know it was a pain.”

“It’s fine. You want her in the wedding. Honestly, she would have hated it if we left her behind. She gets so anxious.”

“How’d she do on the flight?” I ask. Pip turns her head to the side and licks my forearm, leaving a sticky, wet trail.

“Okay. The vet gave us a sleeping pill that we crushed up and put in her breakfast. She snoozed most of the trip.”

“That’s good.” I set Pip back on the ground, but she doesn’t move away, just stares up at me like she’s scared I’ll disappear if she blinks.

“Go put your star on the Christmas tree,” Mom says, adding bacon to the skillet. It sizzles immediately, curling along the edges.

She’s already placed the ladder next to the tree, so it only takes a minute to balance the battered gold star, the one we got when Teddy was a baby, on the topmost branch. When Dad was alive, he would put me on his shoulders to get the star up there. When Caleb was here with me, he had done the same thing. He’d hoisted me high on his shoulders and let me place the star. This way, with the ladder, is a lot less romantic, but it still gets the job done.

“It’s perfect. Good work, honey,” Mom says, gazing at the top of the tree with a sad, wistful smile. I know she’s thinking about Dad too. She sighs, flips the sandwiches one last time, and announces, “Lunch is almost ready.”

“Is it okay if we eat outside by the pool?”

“Of course. You could probably use the vitamin D.” Mom shifts into a warmer smile, one I’ve missed seeing since she moved away.

I stand on my toes and reach into the cupboard, pulling out plates and cups, which I take out to the umbrella-topped table. Pip follows at my heels. It’s a beautiful California day, the sky an azure blue. The weather channel in my hotel room this morning warned that a big snowstorm is building on the East Coast. Glancing around my mother’s backyard, it seems unfathomable, like something that might happen on another planet.

It’s bright outside, so I put on my new sunglasses, the ones Caleb gave me. I sit at the table and look at Pip by my feet. “Glasses, take picture,” I order. There’s a click noise from the tiny speaker in the earpiece, and a photo of my dog materializes in front of my eyes. “Camera, text this to Caleb.” A whoosh sound lets me know the image has been sent.

“How cool is that?” I tell Pip, who cocks her head, listening intently.

I check my phone, eager to see if Caleb’s responded yet. We’ve been texting constantly, sometimes just a funny meme or a simple heart emoji. No matter how big or small, each message brings a smile to my face. It’s good to know that even though we aren’t together, we’re still thinking about each other.

Give Pip a hug for me, Caleb texts back. I scroll through the rest of the messages. Alvina sent a photo of her eating lunch with her cousins by the marina. It doesn’t surprise me to see Wayne sitting next to her. I wonder if she told her family they’re dating? The thought that she confided to them before me shouldn’t make me jealous, but it does. I still haven’t talked to Alvina and Wayne about their relationship. The stubborn part of me is waiting for them to bring it up.

A minute later, Mom joins me with a plate of bacon grilled cheese sandwiches, my childhood favorite, in one hand and a pitcher of iced tea in the other.

“Thanks for cooking.” I help her set everything on the table.

“Are you sure you’re okay flying to New York tonight? I feel bad that you’ve been traveling so much for me.”

“I’ll be fine. I needed to check in on the house here, but the part of my trip I’m most excited about is your wedding. It’ll be beautiful.” Her eyes soften as she looks at me. “You’ll be beautiful, Gwen. A perfect bride.”

I flush, warmed by her compliment. Why, no matter how old I am, do I still crave her approval? Will that desire ever go away?

“I’m glad you could sneak over here for a few hours.” Mom spreads a napkin over her lap. “We’ll see each other at the wedding, but it’ll be so busy. It’s nice to have this alone time together. How’s your conference going?”

“Good.” Mimicking her, I take my napkin and smooth it over my legs. “I made a new friend, Helen Chu, who will be there. We met on the plane ride over. She recently joined a practice here in L.A. so she can be close to her family. She starts next month.”

“Oh, really?” Mom cuts her sandwich in two and picks up one half.

“She rented an apartment in Santa Monica, by the beach.”

Pip leans against my leg. I pass a piece of bacon down to her, and she gobbles it up greedily.

“A new friend? How wonderful, honey.” Mom pats my hand, beaming at me the way she did when I came home in sixth grade and told her I had met a girl named Jenny.

“It’s no big deal,” I say casually, while inside I bask in the glow of her attention. My happiness dims when I remember Skylar and Hannah. I didn’t make friends with them, that’s for sure.

“I might take Helen out for a drink some night while we’re in town. We could go to the club where Teddy’s bartending. He said they transform the place for Christmas, make everything holiday-themed.”

“That’s a great idea. She’ll appreciate you showing her around.” Mom takes a spoonful of sugar from the bowl on the table and swirls it into her tea with a long spoon, its metal clinking rhythmically against the side of the glass.

“How’s the wedding planning coming along?” she asks.

“Good, so far. Thank goodness for Marjorie. She’s been an enormous help, although everyone’s pitched in.” I bring out my phone and pull up my Notes app, where I keep my wedding to-do list. I read off it. “The venue is ready. Catering is confirmed. So are the photographer and DJ.”

I look over at Mom. “You’ll join Marjorie to choose the floral arrangements tomorrow when you get to New York. The florist said don’t order them too far in advance since the selection is always changing and we want the freshest ones.”

She nods with understanding. “I’ll go to the flower market straight from the airport.”

“Perfect. That place is huge, so Jenny and Dean can help, too. Caleb needs to pick out boutonnieres.” I make a note on my phone, a reminder to text my floral inspiration photos to Caleb’s mom later today.

“Oh!” I exclaim. “Don’t let me forget about the cufflinks.” In secret, I had asked Mom to give me my dad’s old cufflinks, the silver ones he wore on their wedding day. I’m planning on surprising Caleb with them the night before our wedding. Hopefully, when I see Caleb wearing them it’ll be a reminder that, although he’s gone, Dad’s still here with me in spirit.

“I’ve got them all packed up for you. In their original box and everything. It’s wonderful, how you want to honor your father.” Mom delicately nibbles on her sandwich. After she swallows, she clasps her hands together and says, “I’m thrilled you and Caleb are getting married. Seth was right. You two are a perfect match.”

Relief flows through me at her words. When Mom first heard about Caleb, she objected, but over the past couple of years she’s adjusted to the idea of us being together.

Mom continues, “Some days, I look at you and all I see is a little girl on roller skates with her pigtails flying. I’m excited for this wedding, but it makes me feel like I’m handing you over to Caleb and I’ll never get you back.” There’s moisture in her eyes when she’s done talking, and in mine too.

“Oh, Mom.” Sadness, grief, regret fill the space between us. “I felt the same way when you married Seth. I thought I would lose you, too.”

Mom’s mouth opens into an O of surprise. “Really? You never told me.”

She’s right. In the past, there have been things I didn’t tell her because I worried it would make her sad or afraid. I used to be a person who was more concerned about other people’s feelings than my own, but now I’m more confident, able to speak my mind. Being with Caleb helped with that.

“That’s exactly how I felt, but here we are. I haven’t lost you, and you haven’t lost me.”

She uses a napkin to dab at her watery eyes. “That’s true. Here we are.” She quietly blows her nose.

“Can you talk to Teddy when you see him? I don’t like those friends he’s living with.” Mom drops her voice into a scandalized whisper. “I think some of them might do drugs.” She raises her eyebrows dramatically for emphasis.

I resist an urge to snort. I’ve seen Teddy’s housemates, and I’m pretty sure they’re all doing drugs. Mostly, I try not to think about if Teddy’s doing them, too.

“Why don’t you ask him?”

She waves a hand at me. “You know how he is. Teddy never tells me anything. I need you to talk to him.”

I feel sick at her words. I knew this was coming. She always puts me in the middle between her and my younger brother. I draw in a deep breath, heart pounding with apprehension, and say, “You know what, Mom? Let’s not talk about Teddy. I understand it wasn’t your intention, and that you were in a bad place both financially and emotionally when Dad died, but I felt responsible for Teddy—”

Mom breaks in. “We didn’t have money for a babysitter. There was no life insurance and so many medical bills. I—”

“I get it, and I appreciate all the sacrifices you made for us, but if you want to know something from Teddy, ask him yourself.”

Dead silence, broken only by the chirping of the birds and the buzz of a honeybee over by the flowerpot. Mom openly gapes at me, her mouth forming words, but no sound comes out.

A long awkward pause before she says, “Fine, Gwendolen. I’ll talk to him.”