Toronto Collection Volume 2 (Toronto Series #6-9)

by Heather Wardell

  He kissed my shoulder. "You're awesome. Come find me in the casino sometime today and I'll show you why it's great."

  He went off to shower and I took my birth-control pill then opened the curtains to let in the beautiful view of the wide-open ocean. I returned to bed and lay watching the water and rethinking our conversation. Something still nagged at me about what he'd said.

  It wasn't until I heard the shower turn off that I realized what was bothering me.

  He'd said his mom couldn't pay for a hundred people. No doubt she couldn't, or at least we couldn't expect her to. Paying for two friends and my mom, and for me for that matter, was more than generous enough. No problem there.

  But the way he'd said it made it sound like he and I had discussed having a larger wedding on the cruise and then decided against it to save his mother the costs. In reality, though, he'd simply told me I could bring Wendy and Mark and my mom but nobody else. I'd known she was paying for their flights and the cruise itself, but not for anything we did onboard. And there'd certainly been no discussion of that.

  Did he think there had been, like he thought he'd discussed his gambling plans? Were we on the same page for anything?

  Chapter Eight

  "You okay, Melissa?"

  I looked over at Wendy and nodded. "Why?"

  She shrugged. "You seem sort of... dim today."

  I folded my arms and gave her a mock glare. "Did you just call me stupid?"

  We laughed, then finished our coffee and headed out of the dining room, but I knew she hadn't meant it that way and I also knew she was right. I felt pale and sluggish, like my batteries were running low.

  On the way to the spa I said, "I'll try to be less dim. I guess I still feel funny after yesterday."

  "Gee, I can't imagine why."

  I rolled my eyes, and she chuckled and said, "I know, what a mess." After a pause, she added, "I have to admit, though, it's nice to see Nicholas again."

  Nicholas had loved the horror movie club, just as Mark and Wendy and I did, but he'd left about a month after we broke up because he'd felt uncomfortable seeing me there. I'd offered to quit instead, since he'd been there first so it seemed only fair, but he'd known I enjoyed it so had insisted he be the one to leave. He'd always been such a sweetheart, and it didn't seem like that had changed. Of course, I'd needed him to be stronger and more decisive, and from how Nicole pushed him around with that scarf he hadn't changed on that front either. Still... the feel and scent of his jacket around my shoulders... "Yeah," I said softly. "It's nice."

  I noticed the almost dreamy sound of my voice, and Wendy must have too because she turned her head sharply and looked at me with her eyebrows raised, but before she could say anything I was holding the spa door open for her. "In you go, madam."

  She grinned and gave me a little curtsey as she passed by.

  The spa was white with accents of pale green, bright and airy, and its nail care section took up a small room at one corner of the ship and was arranged so every client could look out a window at the ocean. Four pedicure chairs lined one wall, and three sat against the other because an enormous rack of nail polishes took up too much space for a fourth chair, and all but two chairs were occupied by other girls of about our age, including...

  I saw what was going to happen and wished I could avoid it, but sure enough the receptionist directed me to the chair next to Nicole.

  Her whole body stiffened as I sat beside her, but since I couldn't see a way around it I turned to her and said, "Good morning."

  Her chin went up and she said, "Same to you," in a tone that lived in the same neighborhood as friendly but had nothing in common with it. Yesterday she'd been a little condescending to me, but not like this. I'd wondered what she knew about me and had thought it wasn't much. Today, her whole attitude toward me had changed. What had Nicholas told her about me and our relationship? Nothing she'd liked hearing, apparently.

  Thank God for Wendy. She took her seat across from me, smiled brightly, and said, "Hey, Nicole. Wow, that's a gorgeous nail polish."

  Nicole glanced at the deep magenta bottle on the arm of her chair. "Thanks, I like it. I saw this on my way out yesterday and couldn't stop thinking about it so today I'm getting all my nails redone."

  Wendy blinked, and I saw her almost say, "Already?" but decide not to. "They'll look great," she said instead. "Think there's enough for me too?"

  Nicole picked up the bottle and peered at it. "It's brand new, so I think so," she said teasingly. Clearly her dislike of me didn't extend to Wendy. "But I get to go first just in case."

  Wendy chuckled. "Deal."

  The girl beside Wendy, who was sporting a strapless dress and a sunburn so red and glowing I imagined I could feel the heat from across the room, said to her, "I'm Jules. Nice to meet you."

  "Sorry," Nicole said. "I forgot I'm the only one who knows everyone. So yeah. That poor lobster is Jules." She pointed at her, although 'lobster' made it clear who she meant, then went on pointing at each of the others in turn. "Courtney and Steph and Brandy. I met all of them in here last night. All four of them are getting married on the cruise. Not all four to each other, obviously."

  We laughed, then she went on. "And Wendy is here because Mel is marrying my boyfriend's brother at the end of the cruise."

  There was a slight but unmistakable emphasis on 'my boyfriend', and my curiosity as to what Nicholas had told her grew.

  After we'd all smiled and said hi to each other, Jules said, "When's your wedding exactly, Mel?"

  "March sixteenth, the last full day of the cruise."

  She gave me a sad smile, her red face hardly able to stretch enough to form it. "You're my last hope."

  "I am?" I felt Steph, beside me, tense in her chair, but before I could wonder why an army of technicians in white uniforms with green trim descended on us and the pedicures got under way.

  For a few minutes we were all too busy exchanging greetings with our technicians and choosing nail polish to chat, but when we settled down again Jules picked up the conversation where we'd let it fall.

  "My wedding is tomorrow. Tomorrow!" She gestured at her vibrant red self. "Look at me! I fell asleep in the sun while my fiancé was getting his mother settled into her room. I could only have been out there an hour but I guess it's just hotter here. I've never been so burnt."

  "I'm sorry," I said, meaning it. Her wedding pictures wouldn't be anything like she'd hoped, no doubt.

  "Are you?"

  I blinked. "Of course."

  "Jules, you can't ask her," Steph said. "It's not fair."

  She glared at Steph, a truly alarming look when coupled with the devil-red skin. "It's not fair to have to get married like this either. I'm asking." Turning back to me, she said, "Would you switch wedding dates with me? You can do yours tomorrow and I'll take your date. That's plenty of time for my skin to recover."

  I looked across at Wendy, not sure what to say. I could switch, although of course I'd have to ask Owen if he was all right with it, but the mere idea of getting married tomorrow filled me with shock and confusion. I had March sixteenth in my head, had had it there for nearly a month now, and March fourth just felt unbearably soon. But if Wendy thought I should...

  My dear friend, who knew I'd liked the idea of my wedding being the final event of the cruise, widened her eyes at me and gave me the faintest head shake imaginable.

  I studied my bare fingernails for a moment as if I was considering it, then raised my head. "Sorry, Jules, I don't think I can. I haven't even met with the wedding coordinator yet and--"

  "Speak of the devil and he appears."

  I looked up, surprised to hear my mom, to see her and Linda with a tall blond guy.

  He stepped forward, smiling at me. "I'm the devil, apparently, although I didn't think I was all that bad. I'm Derek, your coordinator."

  I'd have bought him as an instructor at the on-board fitness center, but he seemed an unlikely choice as a wedding coordinator. Too frat-boy. Bu
t he was cute and he had a great happy smile, so I smiled back and said, "Nice to meet you. I'm Melissa."

  He reached for my hand then froze. "Your nails aren't wet, are they? I caught hell last week for shaking hands at the wrong time."

  I laughed. "They haven't been polished in months." Since New Year's Eve, in fact. I didn't usually bother with them.

  We shook hands and he said, "Well, good. But maybe this is a good time to decide how you want your manicure for the wedding."

  "French," my mom said at the precise moment that Linda said, "Red."

  Wendy gave me an "I'm so glad it's you and not me" smile and said, "Try 'em both out. One on each hand."

  I rolled my eyes. "You're an idiot."

  To my surprise I was the only one who thought so, and before I knew it I had another technician beside me. She painted my right-hand nails a rich glimmering red that was brighter than I'd ever have chosen but had received Linda's approval then gave my left hand a French manicure while my toes got the pale shimmery silver-blue I'd picked with the first technician.

  "Once you're all done and dried," Linda said, "come find us in the chapel. We'd better go through some of the wedding stuff to make sure everything's going to be perfect. And you can show us your nails."

  "Okay. Should I get Owen to come with me?"

  She laughed. "If you can get him out of the casino to talk wedding flowers, you're a stronger woman than I could ever hope to be. But try if you want."

  Everything I'd read during the whirlwind month of planning our wedding had said that guys weren't ever as interested in wedding details as their brides-to-be. Owen had proven to be no exception. "I think I won't try." I smiled. "No point beating my head against the casino wall."

  "Good girl." She winked at me. "This way you get to have it be all about what you want."

  As they departed I heard my mom say, "Now look, Linda, I still think roses would be--"

  "Roses!" Linda said, as if Mom had suggested draping me in seaweed. "If we're going to be that boring and traditional, why don't we just slap a huge butt bow on her and call it a day?"

  We all burst out laughing, even Nicole. When we calmed a bit I said, "Oh, yeah. This'll be all about what I want."

  "You want a butt bow, don't you?"

  I mock-glared at Wendy. "Watch it, or I'll change your dress myself. Six butt bows. Big ones. Made out of dishcloths."

  She waved me off. "Amateur. I'm not scared until it's seven or more made out of toilet paper."

  We laughed, and I felt again the triumph I'd felt when I'd insisted I have Wendy as a bridesmaid. Since Owen hadn't brought any friends on the cruise, partly to protect his mother's wallet and partly because they couldn't get time off work, and he hadn't wanted his brothers as groomsmen, he'd said we just wouldn't have a wedding party. I had been outraged and for once had told him so, and though I didn't think he'd understood why having Wendy stand up with me mattered he had backed down surprisingly quickly.

  Maybe I could do the same with the mothers and Derek. Maybe I could have the wedding be about what we wanted.

  If I could somehow find out what Owen actually wanted at his wedding, of course. If I could get him out of the casino long enough to ask.

  *****

  Once my nails were dry and voted on by the staff and patrons in the nail care area of the spa (final tally: five for French, five for red), I reluctantly said goodbye to Wendy and made my way to the chapel to see what had been planned for my wedding.

  I paused before pushing open the heavy oak door. The chapel had seemed pretty, from the bit I'd been able to see when I peered through the window before my tour with Austin, but it meant nothing to me. My cousin had met the man of her dreams at a beach in Toronto so they'd been married there, and I'd loved that since I had always thought weddings were best when they happened at a place with some significance to the couple. I had no connection to this chapel at all, and I didn't think Owen cared about it either.

  But if we wanted to be at significant places onboard for our wedding, we'd have the groom at the poker table and the bride outside the casino waiting for him to remember her, and that didn't seem quite right either.

  I sighed and went into the chapel.

  It was quiet inside, and peaceful, with the bright sunlight of outside transformed by the huge stained-glass skylight into beautiful vibrant patterns on the burgundy-and-gold carpet and the oak backs of the chairs.

  "Hello, Mel," Linda said, waving to me from a small folding table at the front near the altar. "It's gorgeous in here, isn't it?"

  I nodded and came to join her and Mom and Derek. "It's lovely." Feeling like I needed to say more, I added, "I can't wait to get married here."

  She pushed out a chair with her foot. "You'll be even more excited once we show you what we've done."

  To my surprise, she was right. After we'd booked the wedding I'd filled out a survey of what I wanted, and the three of them had stuck mostly to that while adding details and nuances. As we sat at the table in the hushed atmosphere and worked through their ideas for the music and flowers and decorations it became steadily more real to me: in less than two weeks I'd be standing at the altar looking into Owen's eyes and saying, "I do."

  Next to that, who cared that we weren't spending a lot of time together on the cruise? We'd be together for the rest of our lives afterward, and that was all that mattered.

  This realization made it tougher for me to join our mothers in their passionate debate of our last topic of discussion.

  "Candied almonds?" Mom said when Linda insisted we needed them. "Oh, no. I think not." She turned to me. "Right? What do you think?"

  I hadn't given even a moment's thought to candied almonds, as shocking as that now seemed. "I don't know what they're for. Are they on the dinner tables or something?" A thought struck me and I giggled. "It's not like throwing rice at the bride and groom, is it?"

  Derek laughed but neither mother did.

  "Be serious." Mom didn't quite shake her finger at me but her tone suggested she was considering it. "You give them out as favors." She grunted a chuckle. "Not that people appreciate them. They taste like they've been in a closet for years."

  Linda ignored this and gave me a misty smile. "When I married Owen's dad, my mother handed out bags of them to the guests. I've always wanted to do the same thing when Owen got married."

  I smiled back, touched that after three marriages and divorces she still cared about the traditions of matrimony. "That's sweet."

  "Well, they are candied," Derek said, winking at me.

  I rolled my eyes but smiled at him. I'd misjudged him, back in the spa; he might look like a frat boy but he'd been completely focused the entire time we'd been in the chapel on making sure my wedding went off without a hitch, and his devotion impressed me. He'd mentioned he'd only been a wedding coordinator a month, but I could tell he'd be a great one.

  "So they can be pale blue, right?" Linda poked Derek's arm. "Write that down. Pale blue."

  Mom frowned. "But Wendy's wearing light pink."

  "I know." Linda gestured at the little piece of Wendy's dress fabric attached to the folder for my wedding. "But there's no way we'd get the almonds to match perfectly, and besides the ones at my first wedding were blue. I'd love to see that happen here too."

  Derek flipped through a binder then nodded. "We can get pale blue." He showed me a picture and she leaned in to see it as he said, "Do you like them?"

  "Yup," Linda said. "Perfect."

  I nodded. They were blue all right. And candied.

  "They'll come on board when we restock at Fort Lauderdale next week. No problem at all." He scribbled something in my file folder. "I'll take care of it."

  "Great." Linda looked at me then down at my hands. "And those red nails look great on you. Although the French isn't bad either."

  "I prefer the French," Mom said, surprising nobody, "but if you like the red better, Melissa, then that's all that matters."

  Both styles were nice,
although obviously not together, but I didn't know which I'd choose. Picking red would make Linda happy, but my frequently-French-manicured mother would love to see me with the same nails on my wedding day. I'd have to see what Owen thought.

  Mom went on. "I've got a massage appointment soon, but I think we're done here, aren't we? Anything else?"

  I skimmed my eyes over the preparations checklist Derek had given me, which had almost everything checked off. The few things that weren't would be last-minute tasks, and we'd even discussed them to be sure they were well in hand. "No, I think this is great."

  Mom and Linda pushed their chairs back, and Derek said, "Melissa, could you hold on a minute? I've got a few things to ask you."

  Mom pulled her chair back to the table, but Derek smiled and shook his head. "I just need your daughter for this one, Deborah. Okay?"

  "Ah." Linda stood and gave me a wink so big her whole face crunched into itself. "Sex stuff. Am I right?"

  I blushed, though I didn't know what Derek wanted of me, and she laughed. "Come on, Deb, let's go stare at the young guys by the pool and leave these two alone." She shook her finger in Derek's face. "No fooling around, though. Got it? Paws off my daughter-in-law-to-be."

  "My paws wouldn't dream of such a thing."

  She hip-checked his shoulder. "Not really your paws I'm worried about, actually. A little further south, if you get my drift."

  He laughed, and I blushed further.

  Finally, thankfully, they were gone.

  "Sorry," I said. "She's... um..."

  "Crazy?" He smiled at me. "Sex-obsessed? An almond-giving freak?"

  I laughed. "All of the above. So, what did you want to know?" I hoped it wasn't really about sex. I didn't want to sit in a chapel and discuss my sex life with my surprisingly cute wedding coordinator.

  He tapped the file folder. "Just one thing. Are you okay with all this?"

  I blinked, confused. "Yeah. Why?"

  He shrugged. "Your mom isn't that pushy but Linda is..." He shrugged again. "A force of nature. I wanted to make sure you were getting what you wanted from this wedding."