A Perfect Wedding

by Zoe Dawson

  I blushed and shoved some more M&Ms in my mouth, clinging to the thought of when I could be with him again.

  “I’m going to play the interfering friend and give you some advice. Just get through the rest of the semester, leave the wedding preparations to me and Verity. All I need are the particulars for the flowers, wedding favors, and other details. I’ll go over the list with you quickly before we leave tomorrow. Brax has the cake and the reception sewed up. Then you’re free to sort out the personal stuff.”

  “You’re just worried I’ll turn into Bridezilla if you don’t help me out. Raging through Suttontowne and leveling it into a wasteland.”

  “If Booker is anything like Boone and Brax, and I know he is, he’s loyal to the end. He’ll work out his own crap. I’m sure of it, Aubree. At the very least, it’s because he loves you that you guys found each other in the first place. So buck up.”

  She hooked her arm around my neck, picked up a few M&Ms and shoved them into my mouth. “We’ll eat ourselves sick on M&Ms and drink.” I laughed around the mouthful and her blue eyes twinkled. “Oh, and by the way, I spiked your lemonade. We’ll have our own drinking game.”

  I hooked my arm around her neck and did my own shoving of M&Ms. “Thank you for coming, River Pearl,” I said quietly.

  River grinned back at me with chocolatey teeth that made me laugh. “You’re welcome, Breebree.”

  #

  Booker

  “Isn’t that too high?” I said, backing up and looking at the rose. Braxton was working on another iteration of our wedding cake. I was currently looking over his shoulder. “Is something burning?” I asked as I sniffed the air.

  Braxton sighed and whirled on me, shoving me out of the way and heading toward the oven. He gave me a calculated look and pulled out more sponge cake. “It’s just the extra batter on the pan getting toasty.” He leveled a look that would have killed me dead in my sneakers if looks could kill. “Don’t you have something better to do than come into my kitchen and drive me batty with your comments?”

  “No, I don’t. I miss—”

  “If you so much as utter her name again with the word miss, I. Am. Going. To. Deck. You. It’s only been a week.”

  “Geez, you’re touchy.”

  “Booker, why don’t you go see Ma? Catch up with her and Win. She can tell you all about her visit to New Orleans. Right?”

  “You’re trying to get rid of me.”

  “What was your first clue?”

  “All right,” I said, snatching up a generous amount of buttercream frosting and licking it off my finger. “Needs more butter,” I said, smirking. Brax threw the spatula at me, but I ducked. “Ha! Missed.”

  “I’m warning you, huckleberry!”

  “That rose is too high,” I said quickly, then danced out of the kitchen and shut the door before he started throwing sharp objects like knives and cleavers.

  Something heavy banged against the door as I heard a steam of Cajun French with my name mixed in.

  “Aunt Heloise would wash your mouth out with soap,” I yelled through the door.

  “Booker!”

  I chuckled. As much fun as this was, I agreed with Brax. I needed something to do so I would stop thinking about how much I missed Aubree. We’d talked on the phone a couple of times, but they were brief conversations, and didn’t fill the empty hole in my gut.

  Once in my GT, I drove over to my ma’s house. Getting out of the car, I walked up her flagstone path, picking a bunch of hydrangeas. As I entered the house, I could hear the buzz of a saw coming from the back while I wove through a maze of boxes and old Confederate stuff scattered everywhere around the kitchen and living room. I saw some old journals on the counter. I recognized them as the ones River Pearl had read that revealed what had happened with our ancestors.

  “Ma?” There was no answer. I grabbed a vase for the flowers, and added water. After putting the bouquet on her island, I picked up one of the journals and immediately liked Duel’s sweeping handwriting. I set it back down and thought maybe I should read them. I headed for the back, the screen door slapping as I passed through.

  I approached her storage shed/antique display area and saw Win Sutton, shirtless and in a pair of worn jeans, running a band saw, a tool belt around his lean waist. I’d never seen him so casual. Win was usually a snappy dresser.

  My ma was sitting not far from him, her eyes broadcasting her very…intimate thoughts. Not exactly what I wanted to know about my ma, but I was glad she was happy. The saw shut off and Win grinned at her. She ran her bare toe up his calf. “You know you’re distracting me, sugar. I would get this done a lot faster without you over in the corner giving me the sultry eye.”

  “I can’t help it. You are the one over there looking all carpenter sexy.” She waggled her brows, tilting her head, giving him the once over. “Win, why don’t we—”

  I cleared my throat and my ma’s head whipped around and she straightened, and I swear her face turned beet red. Win chuckled, but cut it off when she gave him a quelling look. Yeah, my ma had one helluva quelling look.

  “Booker, so good to see you,” Win said, reaching for a rag and wiping his neck and chest.

  “We were just making some display cases.”

  “Ohhh, so that’s what you were doing,” I said, giving him a wink and hugging her, giving her a kiss on her flushed cheek. I shook his hand. “Looks more like making time to me.”

  She shoved me lightly. “Oh, Booker…hush. Now, what brings you here? Not that I’m complaining. I love to see my boy.”

  I gave her my best hangdog look. “Brax won’t play with me. He kicked me out of his kitchen and took all his toys back.”

  She laughed. “Oh, my. That big ol’ meanie. Well, he will have to go to bed without his supper tonight.”

  I laughed and said, “What’s all this?”

  “Oh, your momma has a notion to display some of that ol’ Confederate stuff she has in the attic. She’s also going to take your advice and open up her own antique shop. So, the display cases.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Sugar, would you mind getting me some of your delicious lemonade? I’ve built up quite a thirst here.”

  She smiled and cupped his face, running her thumb over his cheekbone. He stared down at her, and I couldn’t be happier that my ma was so…content and happy. I’d never let her see how I was also squirming with…embarrassment? She sashayed out of the shed and I shook my head.

  As soon as she was out of hearing distance, Win approached me and indicated the chair. I sat down, but instead of taking the other chair near the work bench, he paced. “Everything okay, Win?”

  He threw a look over his shoulder and reached into his pocket. “I wanted to talk to each of you boys separately.” He cleared his throat. “It works out that you came home for your wedding early. I don’t want to steal your thunder, and I’ll wait a respectful time, but I want to ask your blessing to marry your momma.”

  I stood and offered him my hand. We shook and embraced, slapping each other on the back. “You have it.” I respected him. Thought he was an upstanding guy for the way he stuck up for us, and for River Pearl and Braxton. My ma loved him. It was plain to see. He made her happy. What else mattered?

  “You have the ring in your pocket, don’t you?”

  “I carry it around with me everywhere, terrified I’ll lose it or she’ll find it.”

  “Can I see it?”

  He looked over his shoulder, but my ma was still busy. She must have gotten caught up in her old Confederate stuff.

  He pulled out the box and I whistled. “That is a doozy.”

  “I want to talk to your brothers and then I’ll—”

  “What are you two whispering about…Win…” she said when she saw the ring box and the diamond nestled inside. He groaned. I smiled.

  She had her arms loaded with those old journals. She set them down on a small table. Her expression was so vulnerable, so surprised. She looked to the rin
g, then to his face. “Yes,” she said and threw herself into his arms.

  He buried his face in her neck and held her tight. “Just like you, Evie, to not even give me a chance to ask,” he groused.

  She pulled away long enough to give him a sound kiss. “Ask if you want to, but the answer is going to be the same.”

  “I wanted to talk to all your sons before…”

  “Oh, that is so sweet.”

  He shifted, then shook his head, grinning. “Will you marry me, Evangeline?”

  “Yes, I will, Winchester.”

  He chuckled and slipped the ring on her finger.

  I hugged my ma and said, “Congratulations.” Looking at Win, I grinned. “Welcome to the family, Daddy.”

  A subtle look came over his face, and even though I was half joking, I could see he was affected by my acceptance. “Don’t worry. Brax and Boone won’t have any objections.”

  Win went back to his sawing and building. My ma pulled me aside and handed me Duel’s journals. “Here, Booker, take these. Maybe you can…I don’t know…write a memoir or something to commemorate your ancestor. It certainly is an interesting story, you have to admit.”

  “Hmmm, I do need something to do. I’ve been thinking about my next book, but hadn’t made a decision yet.” I tucked them under my arm and kissed her on the cheek. “Brax will be so disappointed when he finds out I have finally found something to do.”

  She chuckled, and I left as I heard the saw abruptly cut off.

  Chapter Five

  Booker

  I rambled around a bit the next day. Aubree was able to call me while she was heading out to class, though our conversation was once again brief.

  She reminded me about Dr. Rust’s celebration, and I promised her I had the perfect gift for him. It had occurred to me only an hour before, but I’d already done some research and ordered it for him, putting a rush on it for Saturday delivery. I explained to the saleslady how important it was to get here on time, and she assured me it would be delivered. The other gift was purely for him.

  Afterwards, I picked up those old journals and started reading, got totally into them, and an idea was born. I should have been finishing the half-done book in my series. But before I knew it, I had an outline, and I was feverishly working on something that was making my nerves jump with excitement.

  For the next week I wrote nonstop, and by the time I got to the following weekend, I had completed a substantial but rough draft. I went through it one more time, took a centering breath, and sent it off to Lottie, jinglingly aware of being nervous for the first time in my writing life. I wanted her to love it. I did, was sure this was a good idea, but Lottie would tell me what she thought. She was always honest.

  On the day of Dr. Rust’s celebration, I pulled out my suit, knotted up my tie, and even shaved. Aubree would want me to look good. I drove over to the town hall where the party was being held, and saw Brax’s truck was already there. People were converging on the hall, and when I walked in it was getting pretty loud.

  Dr. Rust was sitting at one of the head tables talking to Rory Finnegan. He and Savannah Hawkins were currently the talk of the town. Savannah’s momma was mad as an ol’ wet hen that her daughter had defied her. I couldn’t help smiling, remembering when Brax had come to Boone and me about Rory’s mortgage, and why I’d been more than happy to contribute a third of the cost.

  First, it would get that old, pushy, naggy lady’s goat. She had been particularly nasty to my ma back when she was struggling as all get-out. Vengeance was certainly sweet, even if it was anonymous. Secondly, Rory had served our country, and was a great asset to my brother, Brax, as his bartender. He would be successful at his tattoo business. I could tell about people, and I was more than happy to contribute to that as well. The guy deserved a break.

  I felt a kindred spirit with Rory, who’d snatched Savannah out of the upper crust of society, and proud of her for making the right choice.

  Us bad boys had to stick together.

  I went to settle at one of the seats, but Dr. Rust motioned me over. He smiled as I approached, and Rory turned to see who Dr. Rust was looking at. He smiled and shook the hand I offered. I greeted Savannah with a quick hug.

  After small talk, Rory and Savannah left and sat down at a table over.

  “Have a seat,” Dr. Rust said. “Aubree emailed me that you would be attending in her stead. Thank you for that.”

  “Yes, sir. It was an honor to be asked. Aubree thinks very highly of you.”

  “How are that shoulder of yours and your head doing?”

  He was referring to my gunshot wound from last summer, and the concussion thanks to Daniel Langston.

  “I’m doing great. I had this great doctor.”

  He snorted. “Whose advice you ignored, but I understand. Young love and all.” He waved his hand. “Aubree tells me you’re getting married real soon.”

  “Two more weeks. It’s coming up fast.”

  “You are a lucky man. You do realize that, I’m sure.”

  “Sir?”

  “Marrying that gal. She’s a keeper. I had an email from Dr. Palmer. She tells me that she offered Aubree the opportunity to speak at the AMA student’s symposium.” He took a sip of sweet tea and sat back, getting comfortable. “Short notice and all, but the scheduled speaker had to cancel. Anyway, she turned Dr. Palmer down. Would have been a nice bit of gold on her application, but it’s clear Aubree has her priorities straight.”

  “She what?”

  “Turned it down cold. It’s only two days after your wedding.” He sat forward, his weathered blue eyes intense. “Do you know the statistics for the likelihood of finding someone to take over a country practice?”

  “No, sir.”

  “They aren’t good. The fact that Aubree is planning to practice here is very good for Suttontowne. I would hate to leave them high and dry when I retire. It’s a tough life, son. I’m on call seven days a week, rarely take any type of vacation, and have to drive frequently to Lafayette for my rounds at the hospital, but I haven’t ever regretted choosing to serve.”

  Things had settled down and the food was being dished out. I could smell Braxton’s jambalaya. Aubree was going to be sorry she missed it, but it was also Dr. Rust’s favorite dish.

  “What do you do for a livin’ son?”

  “I’m a writer,” I said absently, his words, the meaning of what Aubree had given up for me all whirling around in my head.

  The doctor’s brows rose. “One of them internet successes?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ve done very well on the internet.” I nodded. “How long have you been practicing?”

  “Going on thirty-three years, and I don’t talk too much about retiring, but the time will come. Tulane is very good about keeping a balance between city and country medicine. I like that, and it’s why I’m happy to have students out here who want to shadow me. Aubree is a great addition to that school.

  “You can make up your own mind about this, but I like the way she thinks of the patient as a whole person. Need that kind of thinking when you practice alone. I think she would have been a healer no matter where or when she was born. Being a woman is also to her advantage. I’ve never been too much of a touchy-feely doctor, but I think her patients will do well with her nurturing.

  “When I think of Aubree, I think of a healer, because that’s what she is. Now, you support her, you hear? She has a calling and a gift. Make sure she has a solid foundation so she can excel, stand by her. That’s where the success comes in marriage. And, quite simply, Suttontowne needs her.”

  He smiled. “Ah, there she is. A sight for sore eyes.”

  I whipped around and my heart turned over. Aubree was making her way through the crowd. She smiled briefly for Dr. Rust, then her eyes were only for me. Her smile was only for me. I got up as she approached and she wrapped her arms around my neck and I breathed in her unique scent, holding onto her like she was my lifeline.

  “Hello, my sweet B
ooker.”

  “Babe, I thought—”

  “I have been working with Dr. Palmer on o-chem and feeling much better about it, so I decided to blow off my study session and my sorority function. This was more important,” she leaned in close, her mouth against my ear and whispered, “I wanted to see you, be with you. I can’t go another night without having you close to me.”

  “You’re staying the night?”

  “Yes, and some of tomorrow. I don’t have to be back to New Orleans until late afternoon.”

  “Sweet,” I breathed.

  Just then Dr. Rust was called to the front of the room. I signaled one of Brax’s waiters for a meal for Aubree while they presented Dr. Rust with his plaque, an engraved stethoscope, and a monogrammed lab coat. He would also have someone to cover him on the presenter’s dime while he took a much-deserved vacation. Everyone cheered and gave him a standing ovation. Then the party broke up. Dr. Rust headed back to the table, and I looked at my watch.

  “Sir, would you accompany us back to your office? Aubree and I have something for you.”

  “Oh, you shouldn’t have done it, but I thank you.”

  We walked hand in hand, since I couldn’t seem to let go of her. I couldn’t wait to get her back home. When we turned onto the block leading to Dr. Rust’s practice, I saw the delivery truck.

  It stopped in front of the office and the driver got out.

  “Hey, is the doc around?”

  “He is now. What can I do for you, son?”

  The driver looked down at his paperwork. “I have a delivery for a Dr. Rust.”

  “That’s me. But, I wasn’t expecting my medical supplies for at least another week.”

  “These aren’t medical supplies. This here,” he opened up the back, “is an x-ray machine. Where do you want it?”

  Dr. Rust looked at us and then Aubree looked at me.

  I shrugged. “You told me get him something nice.”