Wagering Home

by C. M. Boers

  “How you holding up?” she asked.

  “So. Many. People,” I whispered.

  She snickered behind her napkin. “Most of them are really nice.”

  “And Bianca?”

  “Eh.” She shrugged. “She’s not bad, just a little spoiled. Comes with the territory.”

  As the evening went on and the sun dipped behind the trees, twinkling lights strung above grew brighter, lighting up the back yard in the most romantic way.

  As soon as dessert had been finished, guests started trickling out, saying their goodbyes and thank yous to Jack, Bianca, and her fiancé—who I now knew as Kurt—then slipped out the gate until it was only Jack, Bianca, Kurt, me, and his parents. They gathered on the porch, and the idea of joining them made me feel like an intruder, so I made myself busy cleaning up the table instead. I kept my ears open, trying to hear what they might be saying, though their hushed tones made it impossible to hear anything. Their eyes kept flashing to me.

  Eventually, Jack’s mom came over, leaving the rest to talk.

  “You don’t have to do that, you know.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind.”

  She nodded, then collected a few plates and made a neat pile.

  “I think we were all a bit surprised Jack invited you today. He’s never brought anyone to meet us before.”

  “I heard that. He didn’t mention I’d be meeting all of you today.”

  She giggled. “Well, that does sound like my son. I guess this was a lot for all of us.”

  I smiled.

  “I realize Bianca wasn’t very welcoming earlier.” She leaned forward. “It wasn’t her finest moment. Something she probably feels very bad about. We would like to get to know you better, if that’s okay with you.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Great. I’ll set something up. It really was good to meet you, Melanie.” She lifted a stack of plates and brought them inside. Jack’s dad, Kurt, and Bianca followed her inside, but not before calling out goodbye to me.

  I waved and continued cleaning up the table.

  Jack came up behind me and put his arms around my waist. He buried his face in my hair. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I know.” I leaned into him. “Your mom said the same thing,” I teased.

  “Dance with me.”

  “What? There’s no music.”

  He let go of me with one hand and did something on his phone, then music surrounded us.

  I looked around, unable to hide my surprise. “Where is that coming from?”

  “Speakers.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  He spun me around and pulled me in. His chuckle vibrated against my chest. He twirled me around the back yard a few times under the beautiful night sky and twinkle lights.

  “I’m not sure your family liked me.”

  “Are you kidding? They didn’t even have a chance to get to know you, but they’re intrigued, that’s for sure. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten that big of a third degree, not even when I threw a baseball through the kitchen window when I was eleven.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. Trust me, they’re going to love you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Did you get a chance to see the inside yet?”

  I shook my head.

  “Come on. I’ll give you the tour.”

  * * *

  A week later, I stood in front of the mirror, looking over my dress. I couldn’t decide if it was the best one, but I stuck with it. I sighed and put in my silver heart earrings.

  When his mother had told me she would “set something up,” I hadn’t realized how soon that would be. I supposed it was probably a good thing to get to know them now—if they didn’t approve, things with Jack and I may not be able to get off the ground anyway.

  I heard Jack’s subtle knock as I slipped on my shoes.

  “How do I look?”

  “Well, hello to you too,” he said, leaning in to kiss my cheek.

  I stepped back, ignoring his hello, and held out my arms.

  “You look great.”

  “It’s not too revealing, or too . . . anything?”

  He stepped inside and grabbed both my hands. “You look amazing. Breathe.” He took a deep breath, wanting me to mimic.

  I let it out.

  “Just wait and see, my family is going to love you.”

  Mimosas and quiche were laid out on the table when we arrived. The waiter came over as soon as we were seated, eager to please.

  “What would you like to drink?” he asked both me and Jack.

  “Orange juice,” we said in unison.

  The whole table turned towards us, and I grinned sheepishly.

  “Right away.” With his unamused expression, he turned and left.

  “I’m so glad you could join us this morning, Melanie.”

  “Me too, thanks for the invitation.”

  Bianca eyed me. I sipped my water, hoping to avoid her curious eye. I couldn’t get a good read on her whether she was happy to see me or not.

  “What is it you do for a living, Melanie?” James asked.

  “Oh, um, I work in the office with Jack.”

  Bianca’s eyebrows had never been higher. Clearly, she didn’t approve of that.

  “Oh? Is that where you met?” Ruth asked.

  Jack shook his head. “We met at the coffeehouse, and then she tried to avoid me.” He chuckled.

  My mouth dropped, and my cheeks burned. His family would surely hate that.

  “What? I . . .”

  He slung his arm around me. “It’s funny,” he said, only to me, before addressing the rest of the table. “Then her friend came into town. Turns out, she was adamant about setting Melanie up with someone.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Much to my objection.”

  Jack laughed even harder. “I think Melanie about died when Grace returned with me and Alex.”

  “Grace didn’t notice at all, with how hung up on Alex she was.”

  “Alex Brantley?” Bianca asked.

  Jack nodded.

  “Well, I could see why. He’s quite the charmer.”

  “Anyway, we really hit it off that night. Of course, Monday afternoon at work, it was quite the surprise when I found her sitting at the reception desk, working.”

  “Wait, she worked for you before?” Kurt asked.

  Jack nodded, an ear-to-ear grin on his face. “For almost a month. Boy, was she mad. She thought I’d planned it, like I’d known the whole time.”

  “You and that stupid ‘no one knows who you are’ rule,” Bianca said with disdain.

  “Hey! It’s not stupid.”

  “It certainly is. You have money. Get over it.” Bianca rolled her eyes.

  “Don’t start, you two,” his mother interjected.

  “After that, it took some convincing, but she finally relented.” Jack kissed my hand.

  “Well, that’s quite a story,” his father said.

  His mother sipped her mimosa. “It certainly is.”

  “Where are you from, Melanie?” Kurt asked.

  “Texas.”

  “Oh yuck, I went there once, and the bugs . . . well, let’s just say I won’t be in a hurry to go back again.” Bianca cringed.

  I laughed. “I guess I was used to them.”

  “Have you had the chance to meet her parents yet?” his mother asked.

  “Nope. Maybe we can plan a trip to see them sometime soon.” Jack turned to me, a questioning look on his face.

  I gulped but quickly put a smile on my lips, nodding. This was moving fast. Too fast. Bringing home a man I’d been dating, to parents I didn’t remember, sounded like the worst idea ever. Of course, Jack didn’t know that, because I hadn’t been brave enough to tell him.

  Soon. I’d tell him soon. The right time hadn’t come yet. I’d know it when it came.

  “Do you have any hobbies, Melanie?” His father’s eyes caught mine.

  “Dad’s always interested in
hobbies, always wanting to know what’s out there,” Jack whispered in my ear.

  “Not really, but I did do some facelifts on my house. Painting and sanding, that type of thing.”

  “Wow, I’m impressed.” James nodded, his eyebrows raised.

  “Me too,” Jack agreed. “Dad used to make clocks in his spare time, but he hasn’t for a while. Woodworking used to be one of his hobbies.”

  “Yes, a good clock build really relaxed me. I really should start building again.”

  “Anything but clocks,” his mom said.

  Bianca and Jack started laughing.

  “Dad made a few too many clocks back in the day.” Bianca looked pointedly at her mom.

  “A few? Ugh, I can still hear them ticking and chiming. It was awful, all of them going off at once. I could hardly hear myself think.” Ruth shuddered.

  “Yes, well, if I recall, we made a bit of money on all those clocks. Didn’t we?”

  “We sure did.” She lovingly looked at her husband and kissed his cheek. “Are you in school, dear?” his mother asked, turning her attention back to me.

  “Uh, no. I’m considering it. I was supposed to go . . .” Suddenly, it was hard to breathe. I already was teetering on the edge of things I didn’t want to share. I cleared my throat. “In August, but I’m considering a change in major, so I waited.”

  “Smart choice,” James said. “No sense in wasting money on schooling you don’t need.”

  “Exactly.” I nodded, hoping they wouldn’t push for which majors.

  Just then, the waiter came by to check on the table, and I breathed a sigh of relief. He left the check with James and scurried off again in search of another table to help. Napkins landed on empty plates, and I knew things were wrapping up.

  “Jack, you must bring Melanie to the Halloween party. I do apologize for the late notice; I’d have made sure to send an invite if I’d have known.” Ruth smiled.

  “That’s a great idea, Mom,” Jack agreed, then looked at me, smiling. I tried to read what it meant, but I couldn’t.

  Bianca stood, followed quickly by Kurt, as if they were in sync, or rather, he just followed her lead. “We should be going. Lots to be done for the wedding still.”

  I watched her say goodbye to her parents, then she made her way to me, leaning down to hug me.

  “I’m so glad we got to have brunch. It was great getting to know you.”

  “You too,” I managed to spit out. She still made me crazy nervous, and I couldn’t figure out why.

  She kissed Jack’s cheek, Kurt gave a last nod, and they were gone.

  “We should be going as well,” Jack said.

  And I, like Kurt, followed his lead and said goodbye.

  Jack took my hand as we made our way to his car. My nerves were still buzzing. Everything seemed to have gone well. I really liked them, even Bianca, though I couldn’t tell if that was mutual.

  “I told you they would like you.”

  “And what makes you so sure they do?” I asked.

  “My mother would never have invited you to their Halloween soiree if she didn’t like you.”

  “Well, that’s just your mom.”

  “She is the one to crack. If she likes you, everyone else will too.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him. “Well, what am I supposed to wear to this shindig? Costumes optional?”

  “Oh no, you have to dress up. Everyone goes all-out. It’s a pretty big deal. It’s just one of the many parties my mom loves to throw, but this one, it’s her favorite.”

  Great. Last-minute costumes usually were the worst ones, the leftovers nobody wanted. The last thing I needed was to show up with a terrible costume.

  “I’ll take care of the costumes, okay?” He winked. “I have a guy.”

  I nodded, feeling relieved. And then a thought struck me. “Wait, you aren’t going to make me dress up as a clown or something embarrassing, are you?”

  “You think I would do that to you?” His grin made him look incredibly guilty.

  “I don’t know . . .” I eyed him.

  “I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

  * * *

  Two days later, when a stylist showed up at my door three hours before the party, I didn’t know what to expect. Jack was keeping our costumes under wraps until the very last minute. I let the woman get to work on me without a single objection.

  For two hours, the woman blow-dried and curled my hair, then painted one thing after another on my face. She put one last coat on my lips and stood back, inspecting her work, before nodding and turning me around to face the mirror.

  It was like she’d unlocked a beauty I didn’t know I held. My face was the epitome of perfection—not a single flaw showed through, including the nice pimple that decided to show up. She’d craftily hidden it behind a carefully calculated swoop of my hair.

  “Wow.”

  “I’ll say.”

  I whirled around to find Jack standing in the doorway behind me. He was dressed in what I could only describe as some type of Renaissance suit. He looked enchantingly handsome. In that moment, it seemed surreal he was my boyfriend.

  My mouth hung open for a full five seconds before I clamped it shut. I hoped Jack hadn’t noticed, but when my eyes found his, the amusement there told me he had.

  “You look stunning.”

  “I’m wearing a bathrobe. You . . .”

  He put his finger up to stop me. “I’m not looking at anything but your face anyway. Amelia, you’ve captured the look to a T. Thank you.”

  “Not a problem,” she said. “I’ll get out of your way.” She slipped out of the room, carrying her bag of all things pretty.

  “Seriously though, Mel, you look amazing.”

  “All at your hand, but thank you.”

  “No, even without this.” He gestured to my updo. “You always take my breath away.”

  My cheeks warmed, and the subtle sting of tears plagued my eyes. I pushed out a breath. I am not going to cry.

  “So, am I wearing this bathrobe to the party? I’ll look quite the spectacle, standing next to you in this.” I eyed the garment bag he held.

  “I don’t know.” He tossed the bag on my bed. “I kind of like it.” He pulled me into his arms and bent to kiss me.

  Normally, I would have lifted my head and welcomed his kiss with everything in me. But not right now. Not after primping for the last couple hours. We had a party to get to. A big one. One in which I had to look every bit as polished as I did right at this very moment.

  I pressed my hand to his lips and giggled. “Not right now, Mister. There’s nothing that’s going to mess all this up right now.” I circled my hand in front of my face.

  “Okay, okay.” He held his hands up in the air. “Slip into that and meet me downstairs.” He winked and shut the door.

  I was giddy as I headed over to open the puffy bag, anxious to see what he’d picked to match this primp session. When the zipper came down, the gown inside took my breath away. Every bit of Renaissance to match him in a perfectly crafted dark, royal blue Victorian dress that, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think it was from that time. He’d done a spectacular job. Way better than I could have ever dreamed our costumes to be.

  I couldn’t wait to put it on. Carefully, I stepped into it, making sure to get my feet all the way through the large amount of pillowy fabric. The wide, lacy sleeves slid up over my arms, like it was made just for me. I pulled the rest of it up around my shoulders and quickly realized I needed Jack to lace me up in the back. As I stepped out of my room and peered down at the man who made me happier than I could ever remember being, my heart skipped a beat. He looked more handsome than I’d ever seen him.

  “Can you . . .” As he spun around, his eyes widened and his mouth hung loosely open. I froze, looking at the adoration in his face. Nothing could ever make me feel prettier than that look right there. “I can’t lace up the back.”

  He mounted the stairs, his eyes never leaving
me. This time, I couldn’t push him away. This time, I wanted nothing more than for him to press his lips to mine. The eagerness that filled me was unlike any before. Longing for nothing more than the connection I felt when he held me, when he showed his love without a single word.

  He pulled away, breathless, spinning me around all in one swift move. He kissed my neck once and started lacing me up. I reached up and tapped my neck.

  “What?” His husky voice filled my ear.

  I tapped again in a different spot. His fingers continued working, but his mouth came closer. His breath tickled, and it sent a thrill throughout my whole body. He grazed his lips ever so lightly across my skin and pulled away.

  “All done,” he whispered. “We should go.”

  That was the last thing I wanted to do. But grudgingly, I followed him downstairs, my phone clutched in my hand. That’s when I realized I didn’t have a clutch to match this. Nothing I owned said Renaissance.

  “Jack?”

  “Hm?” he asked from the doorway.

  “Would you mind carrying my phone tonight? I don’t have anything that matches . . .”

  He held out his hand without saying a word. He gripped my hand, the phone in-between, and led me out of my house.

  The nervous jitters grew the closer we came, then the car swung into one of the ritziest neighborhoods I’d ever been in, and they surged higher. These houses were enormous, far larger than I would have guessed. My parents’ huge house could probably fit inside just one of them at least five times.

  “You grew up here?” I asked.

  “Yep.”

  “These houses . . . they’re incredible.”

  “Yeah, if you like houses bigger than you can ever clean in a week!”

  I giggled.

  “You think I’m kidding.”

  “Oh no, I know you’re serious.”

  He turned into a circular drive already filled with cars—more cars than I would have imagined would fit in front of one of these monstrosities. Then I looked up at Jack’s childhood home. Spiderwebs, gravestones, and fog gave way to the spookiest mansion on the block. I had to give his mom credit, I never would have pegged her for the spooky type.

  “Wow, she did a great job decorating!”

  Jack snorted. “She didn’t lift a finger doing any of this. Except, of course, if you count directing all the workers on what to do and where she wanted it.”