Silver walked to one of the chairs and collapsed. She put her face in her hands and groaned. “I hate him. You remember what he did to me, right?”
“Yes, but it was a long time ago. You need to let it go.”
“I can’t. He’s always around. In my personal space. Why can’t he get married and leave me alone?”
“Why can’t you get married and forget all about him?”
Silver glared at her. “First sarcasm and now logic? Why are you being so mean?”
“I’m trying to help. You need to let him go. Otherwise you’ll be trapped forever. That’s not healthy.”
“I can’t let go. I hate him. I’ll never forgive him.” She rose. “Come have drinks with me.”
“It’s barely after three in the afternoon. On a Monday.”
Silver rolled her eyes. “This is an emergency. I need my friend.”
Words that could not be ignored, Pallas thought. She grabbed her bag. “You owe me for this.”
“I know. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”
Pallas was more concerned about how Silver still had so much energy for Drew. The opposite of love wasn’t hate, but apathy. Despite the years and miles, it seemed to her neither Silver nor Drew had found a way to move on.
“Maybe you should sleep with him again, just to get him out of your system.”
“I’d rather slit his throat.”
Pallas winced. “This is where I remind you he’s my favorite cousin. No throat slitting.”
“Can I rip out his heart and hand it to him on a platter?”
There was a visual, Pallas thought, shuddering. “Um, no. Just hate him. I think that’s safest for everyone.”
“I never get to have any fun.”
* * *
MARLA, PALLAS’S FAVORITE CATERER, flipped to the next page on her tablet. “I enjoy the chance to be creative,” she said happily. “Vegetarian can be difficult. It’s so easy to go predictable and many guests immediately turn up their noses. I wanted a nice mix of traditional foods with vegetarian options that would make everyone happy.”
Pallas studied the pictures. They all looked delicious and her stomach was already rumbling. Tim, Nova’s father, was a vegetarian, but neither Nova nor Joel were. That gave Marla a chance to dazzle in two arenas.
“Nova also told me that she and Joel really like the idea of a lot of finger foods,” Marla continued. “In keeping with the quirkiness of their wedding. Did she tell you they’re going to have game stations set up at the venue? I’d be worried my guests would find playing more interesting than the wedding itself.”
“I guess they’re willing to take that chance.”
She handed the tablet back to Marla and pulled out her notes. “Silver said you had an idea for a signature cocktail?”
“She and I have been working together. We were supposed to get together yesterday to finalize everything, but she wasn’t feeling well.”
No doubt that was because of her hangover, Pallas thought sympathetically. Their afternoon of cocktails had turned into a well into the night event with their friends joining them. Pallas had known to go easy, but Silver had been all in with the liquor. Anything to forget Drew.
“You have to try Popsicle cocktails. You mix the drink and then freeze it,” Marla said.
“I thought liquor didn’t freeze.”
“It doesn’t, but if there are enough other ingredients, it gets close enough. I have several I want to try. They will be fun and different. Silver and I are going to coordinate so that everything I’m fixing goes with her signature drink.”
Marla showed her a picture of a margarita pop.
“Is that dipped in salt?” Pallas asked.
“Uh-huh. We can even use flavored salts, if we want.”
The outside temperatures would be warm—an icy drink would be fun. “I can’t wait to hear what Nova has to say about them. I think she’s going to love them.”
“I hope so. Now to food.” Marla propped up her tablet and began to scroll through the menu photos. “Nova said her dad is a huge fan of mac and cheese so I thought we’d do a truffle mac and cheese pop. I can make stuffed Brussel sprouts and avocado boats. One of the items I’d like to offer are mini sliders. They’re about a quarter of the size of a regular slider, so truly a mouthful and that’s all. We can do several kinds of hamburgers, as well as chicken burgers. We can play with the ingredients.”
“I love the idea, but how do you get all the toppings on a tiny piece of meat?”
“You put the flavors into the meat itself or in the sauce.”
There were also dips in shot glasses with either triangles of pita or raw vegetables, kabob options and plenty of tiny desserts.
“When do you talk to Nova?”
“Tomorrow. I’m really excited.”
Nick walked into Pallas’s office. Their eyes met in a quick moment of secret I’m happy to see you communication.
“Hi, Marla,” Nick said. “Pallas.”
She smiled and Marla waved.
“We’re talking food,” the pretty caterer said.
Nick peered at the tablet. “If there’s mac and cheese, you know it’s going to be good.”
“Men.” Marla’s tone was affectionate. “I wonder if I can do a drink pop with Jack Daniel’s. I’ll have to try.” She collected her things. “I’m off to refine before my call.”
With that, she rose and left. Nick waited until she was gone to pull Pallas to her feet.
“Hey, you,” he murmured.
“Hey, yourself.”
He kissed her as she wrapped her arms around him. As heat warmed her, she felt herself surrendering to the moment. If she locked her office door, they could—
Her cell buzzed. She glanced at the screen, then stepped back when she saw the caller ID.
After pushing the button for the speakerphone, she said, “Hi, Nova. I just saw Marla. You’re going to love everything she’s come up with. We’re all so excited about how the wedding is coming together.”
There was a moment of silence followed by a choking sob. Pallas gripped the phone more tightly as her stomach knotted and her skin went cold.
“Nova?”
“W-we can’t do this. It’s my dad.”
Dread joined Pallas’s other emotions. “Is he okay?”
“N-no. He’s taken a turn. It’s bad.”
Nick put his arm around her, but didn’t speak.
“Oh, no. How can we help?” Pallas asked, thinking about the warm, loving father whose last wish had been to see his daughter get married.
“You can’t. No one can. He’s dying. They don’t expect him to last the week. The wedding is off.”
Pallas felt her eyes fill with tears. “Nova, I’m so sorry. Do you need anything? Do you want us to bring the wedding to you?”
She had no idea how that would happen, but there were plenty of smart, determined people involved. They could find a way.
“It’s too late. For everything. Look, I’ll be in touch, but I have to go now. I need to spend every second with him.”
“Of course. Give him our best.”
“Thank you.”
Nova hung up.
Pallas set her phone on the desk. “I barely know the man. It shouldn’t matter, but it does.”
Nick pulled her close and held her. He didn’t speak but feeling the warmth of his embrace turned out to be just what she needed.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
NICK HELD THE chain saw in his hands. The weight was familiar as was the sense of waiting for the wood to tell him what it wanted. He stood in back of the studio with a five-foot-high log secured in heavy metal clamps. After circling the log a couple of times, he started the chainsaw, then turned it off. He had no idea wh
at to do next.
He wondered why that was. Usually when he approached a piece like this, he only had to take a few minutes before he knew exactly what he was going to do. It was a symbiotic relationship as if the more he cut into the wood, the more it spoke to him. But not this time.
He didn’t know what was wrong. Maybe because he’d been working with other materials since moving to Happily Inc? Maybe because he was so pissed he couldn’t see straight? Neither was conducive to a good outcome, especially when he wasn’t sure exactly what he was pissed at. Tim dying? The unfairness of life? Regardless, he had to get his head on straight. Practice was required for the work he did and being angry risked hurting the material or himself.
He set the chainsaw on the ground, then pulled off his safety goggles. He dropped his gloves on the ground and stared at the wood.
It was so damned wrong, he thought grimly. All of it. Tim dying, the wedding being canceled. Pallas had been devastated. He would guess the other vendors involved were equally upset. Not only had they all wanted to pull together to create a one-of-a-kind experience for the bride and groom, they’d had something to prove to themselves. The project had brought them together, challenged them. Now it was over.
He saw movement out of the corner of his eye—Ronan stepping outside. His brother eyed him cautiously.
“You okay?”
He and Ronan hadn’t had much contact in the past few weeks. From his perspective, his brother was withdrawing from both him and Mathias, but maybe he was wrong about that. It was possible that he was as much to blame.
“It won’t talk to me,” he said, motioning to the log.
“It will or it won’t.”
A statement more realistic than unhelpful. Because the medium had to have a voice. People assumed an artist simply sat down and created, but it wasn’t like that. Everything they touched had come from the earth in one form or another. Matter could be changed but it was never destroyed.
He briefly wondered if people who worked with plastic or other man-made material ever heard the whispers, then shook off the question. The answer would in no way help him and he was getting tired of not knowing.
“What’s going on?” Ronan asked. “Except for restoring those panels, you haven’t worked with wood since you got here.”
“I needed to think.”
“About?”
Nick was surprised Ronan was reaching out. “A wedding got canceled.”
“So?”
Irritation flared. Nick tamped it down, telling himself Ronan didn’t know the details.
“That papier-mâché I’ve been working with—it was for that wedding.”
“The one based on the game?”
“That’s it. Nova and Joel needed the wedding put together quickly because her father has cancer. He wanted to walk his daughter down the aisle before he died. We just heard that he’s gotten sicker and he’s not going to live long enough.”
Nick circled the wood, noting the placement of a couple of knots and a raw slice where a branch had been cut off.
“It’s not only the wedding,” he continued. “It’s what it all meant to us. We were pulling together, making something bigger than ourselves. It was important to Pallas.”
Which made it important to him. Not that he had to say that—Ronan wasn’t stupid.
“You’re seeing her?”
Nick nodded.
“Is it serious?”
“I’m going to Dubai. It’s for now.” And it was great. She made him laugh. She was easy to be with, and they never ran out of things to say. The sex was amazing, but he’d reached an age where he wanted more than just to get laid. He wanted...
“It’s just a wedding,” Ronan told him. “I’m sorry about the old man, but shit happens.”
“You ever think of getting a job with a greeting card company?” Nick snapped. “Would it kill you to give a damn about someone other than yourself?”
“What do you mean?”
“Somebody’s father is dying.”
“Somebody’s father is always dying. If you’re talking about me getting involved, that’s not going to happen.”
“I can see that.”
Nick knew the frustration building inside of him had very little to do with Ronan, but his brother had just become an easy target for what he was feeling. Despite how things were between them, he knew it was safe to let loose at Ronan. Maybe not the least bit fair, but safe.
“Why don’t you care anymore?” Nick asked, approaching his brother. “Too scared?”
Ronan—his height and about twenty pounds of muscle heavier—bristled. “Back off, bro.”
“Afraid someone might get inside and make you feel something. Then what? You’d have to get your head out of your ass and stop your pity party? If you didn’t have to sweat how bad you had it, you wouldn’t know what to do to fill your day.”
His brother glared at him. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Then explain it to me.”
“You’re not worth the time or the trouble.”
Nick had meant to make Ronan throw the first punch, but the complete dismissal had him swinging hard and fast. Ronan was caught off guard and took a fist to the jaw. He reacted with a quick uppercut that Nick sidestepped. As they circled each other, Nick had the thought that not only were they too old for this crap, they both really needed to work on their communication skills.
Mathias burst through the back door of the studio and stepped between them.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded.
Nick and Ronan glared at each other.
“I see. You’ll fight about it but you won’t talk about it. That’s intelligent.” Mathias pushed them farther apart. “You two done out here or do I have to hose you off like a couple of dogs?”
“I’m done,” Ronan growled.
“That’s right...walk away,” Nick taunted.
Mathias glared at them both. “Stop it. We’re family, no matter what.”
“We’re less than we were,” Ronan told him, then walked into the studio.
Nick wanted to throw something. Or hit something, although he’d tried the latter and it hadn’t helped as much as he’d hoped.
“Your brother is a jackass,” Nick said.
“He’s your brother, too.”
“I know and he pisses me off.”
“Ronan’s good at that.” Mathias shook his head. “Is that what started it?”
“Mostly.” Nick was too embarrassed to admit he’d been looking for a fight. “How long is he going to hang on to what Dad told him? Nothing is different for us. He’s still who he always was.”
Mathias stared at him. “Nick, it’s a big deal. To you, Ronan is exactly the same. That’s probably true for Aidan and Del, too, but not to us. We thought we were twins. We thought we had a bond. Now it’s gone.”
“Bullshit. You have what you always had. Whatever connection you share is one you created. The only thing that changed is information.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“It should be. We’re all brothers and family. You can pretend it’s different, but if that becomes true, then Dad wins. And none of us want that.”
* * *
PALLAS FIGURED SHE would never be able to afford a trip to Africa, so this was the next best thing—lunch on the savanna. Well, really it was lunch on the animal preserve by the Happily Inc dump, but no one had to know that.
She and Carol sat on a blanket in the shade of a tree. Several gazelles grazed nearby. In the distance stood the small herd of zebras and Millie was in sight.
“This setting adds a level of glamor to my turkey sandwich,” Pallas said.
Carol passed her a small bag of chips. “I know, right? It’s hard
to believe this all exists. Whatever I have going on in my life, I can always come here, sit and just be in the moment.”
“I’m glad the zebras have recovered,” Pallas said.
“They were totally fine the next day. To be honest, I think they enjoyed their adventure.” Carol’s smile faded. “How are you doing? Everyone seems to be sad about the alien wedding being canceled. Even though I wasn’t a part of things, I have the sense that I’ve missed something big.”
“I’m okay. Of course I feel awful for Nova—she’s dealing with losing her father—but I do feel bad for the rest of us. I guess we had something to prove and now we can’t.”
“Are you stuck with a lot of bills?”
“No. Because of the tight time frame, Nova paid for everything in advance. There are some things that can be returned, but everything custom is basically already bought. I’m going to wait awhile and see if she wants any of it.”
The irony was whether the wedding went on or not, Pallas was covered, financially. She couldn’t wish away the increase in her bank account, but she would much rather have put on the wedding.
“It was fun to stretch and try something different. To figure out a way to make the impossible happen.” She took a bite of her sandwich. “Now it’s all very sucky.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. Now enough about all that. How are you?”
Carol raised a shoulder. “I’m good. Still worried about Millie.”
Pallas glanced at the giraffe. She nibbled leaves off a tree. Her gait was both elegant and awkward.
“She’s eating. Isn’t that good?”
“It is, but it’s not enough. I’m concerned with how she’s adjusting. I think she’s lonely. She was by herself before she came here and now she’s still by herself.”
“Is there a Mr. Giraffe in Millie’s future?”
“I don’t think so. Male giraffes are solitary. The females generally live in a loose herd. I want to see if I can find a couple of female giraffes so Millie can have some friends.” Her mouth twisted. “Money is going to be a challenge. Giraffes aren’t cheap. Plus there’s the care and feeding. Not to mention transport.”
Pallas put down her sandwich. “Oh, wow. I never thought of that. Of course, you have to get them here, and how on earth do you do that?”
You Say It First--A Small-Town Wedding Romance Page 18
