“I…” When Martina didn’t continue, Peyton looked up.
“What?”
“Well, I came here to ask you something. Now I’m not sure if it’s a good idea.”
Martina wasn’t sure what Peyton saw on her face, but whatever it was had her shaking her head.
“MJ, I think you’ve met your quota for surprises this month. I’m not sure if I can take another from you … or from anyone else for that matter.” She chuckled but stopped when Martina didn’t say anything.
“Okay. So this must be serious.” Martina remained quiet. She didn’t want to put Peyton into a deeper funk, but she also didn’t think she could marry Paul without having her there. Sure she could ask one of her other cousins, but PJ was her best friend.
Peyton stood and walked around to the front of the desk and leaned against it.
“Like you said earlier, you know you can talk to me about anything.”
Martina hesitated, but then held out her hand, wiggling her fingers. “Paul asked me to marry him … and I said yes.”
Peyton’s eyes went wide, and her mouth formed a perfect circle. “Get the heck out of here! Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I know. I can hardly believe it myself.”
“First a baby and now marriage? And you said, yes? Miracles never cease! I’m so happy for you. Paul is such a nice guy.” Peyton opened her arms, and they hugged. “I guess we have a wedding to plan.”
“Well, here’s the thing.”
“Oh boy. Why do I have a feeling I’m not going to approve of whatever you’re about to say?”
“You don’t have to approve. You just have to be at Paul’s house next Saturday morning, prepared to sign on a dotted line.”
Peyton narrowed her eyes, her hands on her hips. “What are you talking about?”
“We’re getting married by a judge at Paul’s house and have decided that we only want two witnesses. You and Davion.”
“What? Grandma is going to have a fit! Are you sure you don’t want to have a wedding? You know how disappointed she was when Jada eloped.”
“That’s because all Jada talked about since she was five was getting married and having a ridiculously big wedding. They don’t expect that from me.”
Peyton twisted her lips as if thinking. “Okay good point, but—”
“No buts. CJ and Luke are getting married in a couple of months. So there will be a wedding for everyone to attend.”
“Yeah, but everyone probably won’t be able to go to Jamaica for her wedding.”
Peyton walked back around her desk and grabbed a calendar.
“True.” Martina shrugged. “But that’s not my problem.”
“Maybe not, but don’t you want at least some of the family to attend? This is an exciting time for you and Paul. Even if you don’t want to do a large wedding, why not have a reception? We can invite the family, and we can even keep it casual. What do you think? Give the family a chance to celebrate with you guys.”
“I don’t know.” Martina rubbed the back of her neck, already feeling anxious that the plans for a reception could get out of hand. She lived a simple, comfortable life on her own terms and even the slightest changes could wig her out. “Peyton, this might not be a good idea. I have finals coming up and—”
“The girls and I will plan the reception. You won’t have to do anything.”
“Yeah, famous last words.”
“Trust me. You can get married by a judge the way you want, and we’ll take care of the arrangements for the reception.”
Martina left Peyton’s office still having doubts about a reception. She trusted her cousin’s judgment and knew this plan would please her mother and grandmother. She just hoped the arrangements didn’t get out of hand.
*
Martina sighed as she put an extra strip of packing tape on an empty box and tossed the box to the side. Two days before she planned to marry Paul, and she and her cousins were packing up her house.
What was I thinking?
Paul had insisted on getting movers to pack up her things, but she nixed the idea. She already felt as if she was losing control of her whole life. No way was she letting strangers pack her belongings, tossing items all over the place.
She glanced up when Christina started unloading a cabinet and putting the items in three different boxes.
“CJ, why are you separating the glasses from the cups? Everything in that cabinet goes in the same box.”
“MJ, your packing system is dumb, and I’m getting a little sick of you yelling at me about everything! If you keep this up, you’re going to be doing the rest of this yourself.”
“She’s right, MJ,” Peyton said, pulling pots from a lower cabinet and setting them on the counter. “What’s your problem?”
Frustration roared inside of Martina. “You guys are my problem! Why’d you volunteer to help, if you weren’t going to pack things the way I want?” Anxiousness and irritability were her constant companions for the last few days, as the moving day and wedding got closer.
“We volunteered so you wouldn’t do all of this yourself. You should’ve let Paul hire the movers like he suggested.”
“You shouldn’t be saying anything to me right now.” Martina pointed at Peyton. “It’s because of you I’m all stressed out!”
“What?”
“I let you talk me into having a reception, but I can’t believe you convinced me to have a big wedding too! I should have just stuck with my original plan.” But no, she had let Peyton talk her into moving the wedding date back a week, inviting her mother, their grandparents, the girls, and their spouses to the ceremony. Not to mention, Paul’s parents and his sisters. Martina appreciated the extra week, but what started as five people had quickly turned into twenty-five guest at the wedding.
“Martina, it’s not like you’ve had to do much,” Peyton said. “We’ve taken care of everything. You’re having a small intimate wedding with only a few of us and then everyone else will attend the reception Saturday night. All you have to do is show up.”
Martina grabbed a plate, wrapped it in packing paper, and placed it inside one of the boxes that she had just built. She did the same with the next plate, still ignoring Peyton’s comment. Martina didn’t want a wedding per se, although she liked the idea of her mother and grandparents attending the ceremony. As for a reception, all of the Jenkins clan would attend, making her the center of attention, which she wasn’t looking forward to. She talked a big game but didn’t like being on display.
“Okay, MJ, I just got off the phone with the dress shop,” Jada said from the living room. “We need to get there by two for one last fitting. I’m pretty sure the dress is fine, but we need to be positive that it fits. Hurry and finish whatever you’re doing. I need to make a stop before we head that way. Oh and…”
Martina tuned out. There were too many changes going on in her life at the same time.
What was I thinking agreeing to all of this?
Toni strolled into the kitchen carrying a picture box, followed by little Craig, who dragged one of his toys into the living room.
“Did you say you wanted the first guest bedroom to stay as is for staging when the realtor shows the house or was it the second bedroom?”
Martina gripped the next plate with both hands and gritted her teeth, trying to maintain what little control she had left.
“TJ, how many times do I have to tell you? The first one stays as is and everything goes except the bed in the second bedroom. Dang! What is it with all of you?”
Toni dropped the box, and her hands flew to her hips. “I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to chill with all of the yelling.”
“I’m not yelling!” Martina screamed, slamming the plate on the floor, pieces of ceramic flying everywhere. “Just stop it, dammit! I can’t handle any more questions!”
Little Craig started crying, running from the living room to Toni. Everyone spoke at once, and Martina felt like throwing something els
e.
She closed her eyes tight and gripped the sides of her head, willing herself not to scream again or burst into tears. Her heart pounded wildly, and her hands shook uncontrollably as frustration mixed with a bit of anger battled within her.
I should never have agreed to this. Any of this.
A baby. Moving. Marriage. Martina grasped her head tighter trying to get a grip on her nerves and slow her racing heart, but she was losing the battle. She knew too much stress wasn’t good for the baby, but she couldn’t seem to get herself together.
“I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I just can’t do this!” she chanted.
Martina didn’t know how long she repeated those words before realizing the room had gone quiet.
She slowly opened her eyes and lowered her arms, her breathing still not back to normal.
“You can’t do what, Martina?”
Her head jerked up to find Paul standing near the front door and her heart crashed against her chest. Tears pricked the back of her eyes as she met his gaze. She had no idea how much he had witnessed or what else he had heard, but it was clear he’d heard enough.
“Would you ladies excuse us?” he said, as he moved closer to the kitchen area without taking his gaze from her.
“She’s pregnant, hormonal and a little crazy. Good luck,” Toni said, squeezing Paul’s arm as she passed him with little Craig on her hip. “We’ll come back in about an hour.”
CJ rubbed Martina’s back as she, Peyton and Jada headed for the front door, closing it behind them.
Martina was unable to move. Paul’s stare had her rooted in place. This was his fault. How had she let him talk her into this … this craziness?
Without saying a word, he removed the broom from the small pantry closet. He grabbed her hand, giving it a slight tug and guided her around the breakfast bar and out of the kitchen. He didn’t speak until he released her hand.
“What’s going on?” He started sweeping up the pieces of the broken plate.
Martina felt like such an idiot for slamming the dish to the floor while everyone was so close by. She hadn’t been thinking. As a matter of fact, it seemed she hadn’t thought for herself in a while.
“Martina,” Paul prompted as he kept sweeping. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”
“Why didn’t you tell me the state had passed the bill regarding the unions?”
For the past few weeks, with final exams, wedding planning, working and a host of other responsibilities, she’d been distracted. It wasn’t until earlier that day while watching the news did she find out the bill had passed.
“It was a done deal. There was nothing else to discuss.”
“You could have done more to stop it, Paul! I’m starting to think the discussion we had at the cafe was just to pacify me!” she yelled.
“Martina, I was genuinely interested in what you had to say, but you need to understand, I am one man. There were so many more variables involved in that bill,” he said calmly, making her angrier. His calmness was one trait she liked about him, but right now, she found it irritating.
“Whatever! Now the government can do whatever the heck they want - or not - when it comes to pay raises, employee evaluations…” She waved her arms around frustrated that she couldn’t get her thoughts together and pissed that Paul was now looking at her as if she had lost her mind.
Martina diverted her gaze and paced around the living room, knowing that talking to him about the unions was useless.
“I know what you’re trying to do Martina. You’re trying to start a fight, but I’m not going there with you. Talk to me and tell me what’s on your mind. You didn’t answer my question earlier. What can’t you do anymore?”
Martina stopped moving and turned to him. Her words stalled in her mouth knowing that what she had on her mind would hurt him. Agony crawled through her body. God knows she didn’t want to hurt him. He was the only man she had ever allowed herself to love, and she couldn’t see herself with anyone else. Yet…
“Everything is happening too fast,” she blurted out.
He set the broom aside and approached her. When he reached for her, she unconsciously took a step back. Shock registered on his face.
“I need … I need to think, and I can’t do that when you’re close to me … or touching me.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets but didn’t speak. She hated when he got like this, all quiet and composed. As if dealing with all of these changes, at the same time, were like the most natural thing in the world.
“Paul, I’m stressed, overwhelmed and out of control.” She glanced down at her ballerina slippers before returning her attention to him. “I don’t know if I can do this.” She fought back the tears that were threatening to fall.
“Do what?” he finally spoke. “Baby, what can’t you do?”
“Any of this!” she screamed, her patience shot. “A baby, moving, marriage… I don’t think I can go through with moving in with you and … I don’t know if I can marry you.”
Emotions flashed across Paul’s face and his jaws clenched. He removed his hands from his pocket and ran one over his mouth and down his chin before letting it fall to his side. He maintained his coolness, but there was a definite hardening of his eyes.
“You’re the one who picked the wedding date, Martina, and you said you were sure. You said you were ready. And you said you loved me and wanted us to spend the rest of our lives together.”
A few tears slipped through, and Martina quickly swiped them away. “I do love you,” she choked out. “I love you so much, but I’m scared to death. I don’t know if I can go through with this marriage idea.”
She had always been in control of her life, doing what she wanted to and when she wanted to. Lately, all of her control and independence was slipping away, leaving her vulnerable. Vulnerable to heartbreak. She couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t lose what little control she had over her life. Yes, she had to think about the baby, but she knew whether they were married or not, Paul would be there for their child.
He shook his head and sighed. She followed his moves as he closed his eyes and ran his hand over his head and down the back of his neck. She had no idea what he was thinking, or where they went from there.
“I love you so much.” His words were thick with emotion, and Martina felt as if her heart had split in two. “You and our baby mean the world to me, but I can’t force you to be my wife. I know you love me too, and I understand that you’re scared. All I can do is tell you that if you give me a chance, give us a chance, I promise you won’t regret it. So think about that.”
He turned and walked away, but stopped when he got to the door, his hand on the doorknob.
“I’ll be at your grandparents’ house, prepared to marry you in two days as planned. You’re either going to be there … or you’re not. It’s your choice.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“You look like hell,” Davion said when he strolled into Steven Jenkins’ study, where Paul was camped out.
“I feel like hell.”
Paul moved slowly around the room that had been transformed to resemble a small chapel. A floral wedding arch, positioned near an oversized window, stood before twenty-five to thirty cushioned folding chairs that were set up like pews. Bouquets of white, long stem roses in clear vases were mounted on ornamental pedestals, strategically placed around the room. Martina insisted she wanted the wedding small, simple, and intimate. The space was perfect.
Paul stopped at the window that overlooked a massive side yard, gazing out at the snow that fell the night before. He hadn’t slept in two days, and it was his fault. Maybe he could have handled Martina’s meltdown differently. He should have stayed there and talked the problem out with her, somehow convince her that they were both ready to move forward together.
“She’s still not here, just in case you were wondering.” Davion stood next to him as they gazed out the window.
Paul said nothing. He and Martina were to be m
arried in two hours and all he could do was wait. He arrived early because he was going crazy at home. He hadn’t talked to her since he had left her house, knowing the next move had to be hers.
Paul braced his hands on the window casing and leaned in, exhaustion getting the best of him. He had hoped Martina would be at her grandparents’ house waiting for him, but no such luck. The woman was so damn unpredictable until he honestly didn’t know if she would show. She didn’t think she was ready for marriage. Still he hoped. He hoped she remembered how good they were together. He hoped she would recall the numerous plans they made for the future. More than anything, he hoped she remembered how much he loved her and their unborn child.
“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you. Myra said that she, your parents, and Janice are on their way.”
Paul and his mother had finally made peace. He was glad that she had reached out to him before he had a chance to tell her about the baby and his plans to marry Martina. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have known if her sudden change of heart in supporting his plans had to do with the fact that she’d have another grandchild to dote on.
“I had no idea the Jenkins family was rolling in dough like this,” Davion said, breaking into Paul’s thoughts. “Did you know they have a ballroom in this joint? That’s where the reception will be tonight … assuming there’s a wedding.”
Paul turned to Davion. His first thought was to wrap his hands around his cousin’s neck and squeeze, but he was sure that wouldn’t make him feel better. And taking his frustrations out on him wouldn’t accomplish anything.
All Paul wanted right now was for his baby to walk through those doors, and into his arms.
A knock sounded on the door, and his heart leaped until the door swung open. Craig, Luke, and Zack walked in. The expressions on their faces weren’t encouraging, and Paul assumed they didn’t have any news on whether Martina had arrived.
Feeling like a deflated balloon, he dropped down in one of the guest chairs.
“I was going to ask how you’re holding up, but I guess that’s a stupid question.” Craig squeezed Paul’s shoulder and sat next to him. Zack and Luke turned chairs around until they were all in somewhat of a circle.
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