by Gigi Blume
But then I realized, through the copious amounts of cracks (seriously, how did he deal with that phone?) that the texts were from some guy named T Dawg. I scrolled, just to be sure, and that’s when I found the long string of texts from this T Dawg guy about my brother. More specifically, my brother’s wedding to Beth and the vendor pass he acquired for Wyatt for his exposé story.
My heart dropped to my navel with a definitive thump. The top-secret news story Wyatt was looking forward to. It was about my brother. And not in a good way. What sort of gossip did he think he would uncover? Since Will met Beth, he became even more boring than he was before. All sappy lovey dovey let’s stay in and cuddle tonight kind of boring. Nobody was cheating. Beth wasn’t prego. Not a gold digger in sight. There was literally no dirt a slimy gossip writer could dig up on my brother and his bride. Slimy being the operative word here. I felt slimy. Or rather...slimed on. Wyatt was just another guy using me to get to my brother. And I fell fast and hard. Stupid me.
I felt numb all over. I didn’t even notice I was crying until my eyes puffed up so much I couldn’t see straight. Wyatt was just a blurry form to me as he came into the living room. All I could make out through my foggy vision was this blob of a man bouncing in all jolly and clueless then freezing at the doorway.
Jig’s up, blockhead. I can see right through that adorably klutzy facade.
“Georgia...are you okay?” asked the traitor. “What happened?”
“What happened?” I spat. “I fell for your...your...deception. That’s what happened.” I wagged the phone around. “Who’s T Dawg?”
Understanding dawned on his face—at least what I could see of his face through the rainstorm in my eyes. I wiped them with the heel of my thumb so I could see better. See the disappointment in Wyatt’s silly and annoyingly handsome face.
He took a step toward me. “I can explain—”
“Don’t come any closer.”
He paused, looked at the tray, twisted left and right, then resolved to set the tray on the floor for lack of a nearby table. I just stood there waiting to see what kind of two-faced, phony, rascally explanation he would come up with. He raked his hands through is stupidly beautiful hair.
“I was going to tell you.”
“Oh? When, pray tell? Or were you too busy lying to me? Telling me you luuurve me.”
“I do love you.”
“Stop. Just stop.” I tossed him the phone. It slipped through his fingers and landed at his feet. He didn’t make a move to pick it up. “Just tell me something that isn’t a lie.”
He exhaled a heavy sigh and squeezed his temple. “Alright. T Dawg is one of my old roommates who moved to L.A. and now works at some catering place.”
“The wedding caterer?”
“Yeah. The thing is, I still owe him some rent money and when he caught wind of this wedding, he thought we could both cash in.”
“That’s an asinine idea,” I snapped.
“I see that now. But I promise you—I’m not going to go through with it.”
I huffed. “Of course not. You won’t get anywhere near my house.”
“Georgia, please...”
“You know what?” I hissed. “As angry as I am with you, and believe me I’m raging mad, I blame myself. I let you in. Exposed my heart. And that just makes me really freaking sad.”
I couldn’t speak any more. The tears were burning my throat. Wyatt just stared at me. A deer in the headlights.
“Goodbye, Wyatt.” I turned on my heel, puffed up my chest, and strode across the living room out the front door. It was one of those these boots are made for walkin’ moments. I was empowered.
I will survive, suckah!
Until the arctic blast attacked me and I noted the flaw in my dramatic exodus. I left my coat inside. Also, I had no idea how to drive that RV so I scurried back into the warm house. Wyatt was still standing there with the tray at his feet except now Reeses was digging into the cookies.
I raised my chin, trying to play it cool. “I have decided to leave first thing in the morning.”
I began toward Vicky’s room, forced to pass Wyatt on the way. He stopped me with a light touch on my arm.
“Can we discuss this in the morning?” he begged.
I shrugged him off. “We’ll see.”
I gave Reeses one hearty scratch and went to bed. Not that I slept at all. Around four thirty in the morning, sooo over the tossing and turning, I gathered my things (which consisted of my coat and the empanadas Anita packed for me) and paced the living room. Maybe I’d call an Uber? I had no plan. I only knew I had to be gone before Wyatt woke up.
“You still up?”
I turned to see Steven shuffling over, scratching his bed head and yawning as he spoke. His eyes weren’t completely open, either.
“Actually,” I admitted, my throat thick with tears, “I need to go. Do you think I could use the phone to call a taxi?”
He blinked at me, clearing the sleep from his eyes, then furrowed his brows when he saw the state I was in.
“Are you okay?” He looked around. “Where’s Wyatt?”
I shook my head, willing the tears away. “I just need to go home.”
The head shaking didn’t work. Thunderstorms flooded from my tear ducts.
“Okay, okay.” Steven sprang into crisis responder mode. Husbands with babies were good at that sort of thing. “Where’s home? How can I help?”
Awww. What a guy.
“I have a plane to catch,” I sobbed. “Santa Fe airport.”
He held up a finger. “Let me just get my keys.”
And just like that, this nice man who hardly knew me took me to the airport. No questions asked. Surely he didn’t want to hear how much of a scoundrel his brother-in-law was. It wasn’t my place to expect him to. Here we were on Christmas Day, the sun just a flicker on the horizon. He could have been cozy and warm, waiting to capture his daughter’s reaction on camera when she found her presents. But something in his weary expression showed a genuine concern.
“Are you going to be okay? I could park and walk you in.”
We were idling at the drop off curb. The airport was so tiny and empty I imagined he could leave the car there and nobody would complain. But I didn’t want to keep him from his family.
“No, I’m good.” I attempted a smile. “Thanks for the ride.”
I reached for the door handle to get out of the car.
“Listen,” he said, gently bidding me to wait. “I don’t know what happened between you and my brother-in-law—and it’s none of my business. I’m sure you have a valid reason for leaving. But just so you know...Wyatt’s a straight up guy. He might be a wayward clown. A little lost sometimes. Actually he’s kind of a yo-yo.”
“I’m...not sure where you’re going with this.”
“The point is, whatever dorky thing he might have done, that man is in love with you. It’s all over his face. I’ve never seen him like that.”
He shrugged, having fulfilled his obligatory brother-in-law endorsement.
I gave him a half-smile. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” he replied. “Have a safe flight.”
Minutes later I was inside the terminal wondering what I’d do to pass the few extra hours besides feel sorry for myself. Jaxson wasn’t due to arrive for a while and even though I was hurt and mad, a small part of me was hoping for a grand gesture from Wyatt. One of those airport scenes in every rom-com where the guy crashes through security to stop the girl from boarding a plane. But Wyatt was probably still sleeping.
Turned out, I didn’t have to wait at all. It was the Australian accent that caught my attention. I spotted Jaxson Knightly chatting it up with one of the aforementioned security guards. Probably the only security guard in this cute little airport. They’d gotten coffee from somewhere. I clutched my little bag of empanadas. Would it be worth it to trade one for a cup of joe? Nah.
“How are you here so early?” I asked Jaxson after we said
our hellos.
The security guard had to get back to work and tipped his baseball cap to me. Jaxson clapped him on the shoulder. “See ya around, mate.”
That Jaxson. Made friends everywhere he went. He smiled at me. “You want to know why I arrived so early. Well, the truth is, I’ve never flown such a distance in one go. So I erred on the side of caution.”
“You are not making me feel overly confident to get in a plane with you.”
He laughed, a deep rumble comforting my scuffed up heart. “It’s perfectly safe. Ready to go?”
“Yeah.”
If he was wondering where my traveling companion was, he didn’t show it. He escorted me to his plane, all fueled up and waiting for us. We slipped on our headsets and once we got the A-OK from the control tower and ran all the checks, we were on our way. My stomach flipped at first, but I soon got used to the sensation of flying in a tiny aircraft. Jaxson maneuvered like a pro—he even looked the part of a G.A. pilot with his leather jacket and aviators.
“Thank you for coming all this way to get me,” I said into the headset. It really was too kind of him to leave his wife on Christmas morning. They were still technically newlyweds. “My brother said Emma might come with to keep you company.”
“She wanted to come,” he replied. “But she’s in no condition to fly.”
“Oh no. Is something wrong?”
A huge grin split his face. “Everything’s perfect.”
Oh. OH! He meant...wow. Emma Woods expecting. My thoughts turned to Wyatt, how Emma was his celebrity crush. How I secretly wished he were here. Then I kicked that thought to the curb. No. I slapped it across the face, beat it to a pulp, and then kicked it to the curb. Take that, sentimental feelings.
“Congratulations,” I said. “That’s great news.”
“Thanks. We’re still keeping it close to our chest, though.”
We buzzed along through the sky with the sun at our backs. The sights down below were stunning. The rocky terrain of the desert coming to life in hues of pink and purple. It was almost cathartic.
I wondered what Wyatt was doing just then. Would he just be waking up? How long before he noticed I was gone? Would he go outside to see the sunrise on his beautiful pine nut orchard?
Annoyed with my pestering thoughts, I shoved my hands in my coat pockets. One of them had something pokey inside. My hand dug it out and I was sad all over again. The miniature Charlie Brown Christmas tree. I thought I’d left it behind. Wyatt must have tucked it in my pocket after our fight.
I ran a finger over the tiny plastic pine needles and the little scrap of blue felt serving as Linus’ blanket. My heart ripped open anew with the memories contained in that silly tree. How Wyatt kissed me and told me he loved me. It didn’t seem like he was lying at the time. Steven’s parting words still echoed around in my brain. That man is in love with you.
Tears burnt the edges of my eyes. Maybe there was some truth to that. Wyatt’s kisses were certainly convincing enough. It didn’t matter, though. It was over. And now I would never watch Peanuts the same way again.
22
Georgia
I hugged my brother long and hard. A death grip, really. Which only set off alarm bells in his overactive imagination.
“What’s going on, George? Is it the guy? What did he do to you?”
“Sheesh! Can’t a girl hug her brother on his wedding day? These are tears of joy.”
He wasn’t buying it. He gave me a long hard look.
“It’s fine, really,” I said. “He decided to stay with his family for Christmas, that’s all.”
“And you miss him?”
I spat though my lips. “Ha! Of course not. I don’t even know the guy.” I forced a fake, maniacal laugh. He arched a brow. There was a reason he was the actor in the family and not me.
“Then why is your face all blotchy?”
“Gee, thanks.”
He scowled. “We could teach him a lesson. I know a guy.”
“Whaaat? No. Besides, you don’t know a guy. Big fat liar.”
“Seth. He’d do it.” He paced, rubbing his chin. Was he a crime boss all of a sudden? I go away for a few months!
“Seth? The guy who played Large Larry in that one movie? He’s a big teddy bear.”
“It’s called acting. If he’s convincing enough, Ice Boy will wet his pants and run for the hills. Seth is definitely our guy.”
Will took to calling Wyatt Ice Boy after the rental car incident. I didn’t bother correcting him.
“Um...aaaanyway. No need to send your actor friends on my behalf. There’s nothing going on. You just concentrate on getting married.” I rocked my fists in the air. “Yay!”
I checked in on Beth next because —obvs—she wasn’t allowed in the same room as Will. Bad luck and all that. Her bestie Jane was with her. They were getting the spa treatment and couldn’t move from their lounging chairs without dripping whatever goop was on their faces.
“Come join us,” chirped Beth. “We reserved a place for you.”
“No thanks.” I thumbed over my shoulder. “Gotta go wrap all my Amazon deliveries. Boy, did they pile up.”
Jane took a hold of my hand and craned her eyes to see me. “Please stay. It won’t be the same without you.”
That was the thing about Jane. Too sweet for words and who could resist?
“Okay.”
The truth was, I probably needed it after the workout my puffy eyes had gone through. Beth called in the professional beautician they’d contracted for the day. Will’s idea, not hers. Then the lady spread a green paste all over my face and left me there to sprout. It was equal parts creepy crawly and soothing.
Beth and Jane asked me all sorts of questions. Mostly about Wyatt. No doubt she’d been talking to Will.
“We were worried about you when you left that message you’d been robbed,” she said.
I apologized for causing them alarm.
Then she said, “We almost postponed the wedding.”
That would have been like a sad sit com. Little Georgia Ruins Things take two. Cue the laugh track.
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t. The show must go on.”
Beth and Jane laughed at my lame attempt at a joke. They were both theatre people so they appreciated showbiz humor. Actually, lots of Beth’s theatre friends were coming to the wedding. Her old roommate, Lydia, who I’d heard so much about. I was looking forward to meeting her. There were also some other girls from when Beth and Will performed Pirates of Penzance together. Then of course there was Stella. She claimed she was responsible for the wedding with her mad matchmaking skills. Nobody argued with her because she was knighted by the Queen and all.
When I was done growing a small garden on my face I took to my room to have some alone time. Big mistake. All I did was pine over Wyatt. No pun intended. I lost track of time after my shower—just sitting on my bed wrapped in a towel. Staring at the Charlie Brown tree.
Stella came in looking all regal and proper. All she needed was a fascinator to complete the ensemble. She sat next to me on the bed and talked about everything except my wacky road trip. That was a relief.
Then she did what Stella does best—dole out cryptic words of wisdom.
“Do you know what I find fascinating?” she said.
“The tiny legs on Yorkies?”
“How Beth was ready to see the worst in your brother based on half-truths. Imagine if she never listened to his side of the story. If she would have continued to misjudge him we wouldn’t be celebrating a wedding here today. Imagine that.”
“Yeah. Imagine that.”
She voiced a sigh like a deflated siren. “I think about these things from time to time. Don’t you?”
“No. Not really.”
She held out her hand for the tree I was twiddling. “May I?”
“Sure.” I handed it over.
“Ah. I really like this movie.” She examined it closely, turning it over in her hand. “Those children judged t
hat poor little tree. But in the end all it needed was some love from a boy and his dog.”
She gave it back and I marveled at it like she’d performed some kind of magic. But it was just the same old bric-a-brac.
“Well poppet, I best be going before I miss the whole wedding. And you might want to put on some clothes so you can perform your bridesmaid duties. Your future sister-in-law is waiting for you.”
Then she took off, leaving me with that little nugget. A boy and his dog indeed.
It doesn’t get much better than a sunset wedding. Especially on Christmas. The guest list was relatively small so there was plenty of room for the ceremony on the terrace overlooking the lawns of Pemberley. I’d always enjoyed the view from this part of the house where I could look down on the neighborhood like a queen on a hill. On a clear day you could see the Hollywood sign.
A dozen or so Christmas trees served as decorations along the rows of chairs and a canopy of white lights was strung above our heads. It was like a fairy tale.
We lined up to go out by the glass doors. Beth held on to her father’s arm while Jane fluffed the wedding dress. Lady, our Cocker Spaniel, was the ring bearer. Just fake rings, though. My brother was in place where the groom is supposed to go. A little fidgety. Stern face. There was his best friend, Bing, at his side, anxiously waiting for the women to emerge—particularly Jane. We were all wondering when that wedding would occur. Bing proposed to Jane a year ago.
The quartet of musicians began playing Oh What A Circus from Evita. (Don’t ask.) Then the wedding coordinator ushered us out. I never knew where to cast my eyes while walking down the aisle. Same thing happened when I was a bridesmaid for my friend Lisa. At least the bride could look at the groom. I didn’t have that. I couldn’t very well look at the minister. Awkward. If I looked left and right, smiling at the wedding guests, I’d be tempted to do the windshield wiper princess wave. Wipe, wipe, wipe...show off the dirt.
Beth’s little sister Mary went before me. She was too busy concentrating on her feet. Step, touch. Step, touch. Yeeeah. I wasn’t going to do that. No way. I decided I’d act all casual.
