“What I want is to get married to you. In June. So, how about this? What if we got married at your parents’ place?”
“I’d love to, but I couldn’t do that to them,” I said. “Mom and Dad’s motel might be small, but it’s super busy in June. I’d never want to put that kind of pressure on them.”
“Then I have another idea…which you probably won’t like.”
“At this point, I’ll take whatever ideas you have.”
“We’ll see about that,” he said.
“It can’t be that bad,” I said. “Come on—this is about us! This is about finally becoming man and wife! If you have something in mind, I need to hear it, because I’m that desperate. So, tell me—what’s the idea?”
“I think you need to down your martini right now, Lisa,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“Just down it. And don’t worry—I’ll do the same with my scotch, because I already know that both of us are going to need it.”
“Are you being serious?”
“I am.”
“Well, then,” I said, not knowing what he was up to, “bottoms up!”
I swallowed my drink just as he tossed back his, and then I put my glass on the side table and planted the palms of my hands firmly against his chest.
“What’s your plan, man?” I asked.
“First, I need to know if you really do want to get married this year.”
Is he serious? Does he really have no idea how long I’ve waited for this?
“I do want to get married this year—as in June. As in STAT!”
“You’re sure about that?”
“Tank, more than anything, I want to become your June bride. And this year, I will become that June bride—no matter what it takes.”
“Then you might have to become my June bride in Prairie Home, Nebraska,” he said. “Or Nobraska, as you like to say.”
I nearly choked. “Sorry-what-was-that-come-again?”
“You heard me.”
“Prairie Home?” I said. “Otherwise known as the land in which your mother hates me?”
“She doesn’t hate you.”
“The hell she doesn’t.”
“She doesn’t. It’s just that she doesn’t understand why you write about zombies, that’s all. She’s super religious—you know that. It’s confusing to her. She’d rather you wrote about kittens.”
“Like that’s going to happen.”
“Here’s the thing,” he said, taking hold of my hands and kissing the backs of them. “We could get married on my parents’ property, which is spectacular. You know they own several hundred acres. Sure, a lot of it is farmland, but around the house? I know you’ve only seen it in winter, but the land is amazing. If I told Mom and Dad that we wanted to get married there in June, there’s plenty of time for us to build a big gazebo near the pond in the backyard, which just happens to be filled with swans.”
“There are swans on the property?” I asked.
“Dozens of them. They come back every year to nest. If nothing else, they and the pond would make a romantic backdrop.”
I had to admit they would, and so I did. “OK, so the swans and the pond are a plus,” I said. “As is the gazebo. Go on.”
“Now that we know that Manhattan is out of the question, we have plenty of time to plan for a wedding in Prairie Home. My parents would welcome it. Plus, we have to consider that Mom is terrified of flying. We were planning to bus each of them in if we got married here. But if we got married there, we wouldn’t have to do that, which would make things easier on them.”
As he spoke, already I was having second thoughts. A pretty gazebo and some sleek swans could never mask the fact that his mother loathed me. I was about to speak when he looked me in the eyes.
“I need my parents to hear me say my vows to you, Lisa. It’s important to me. You are the love of my life. I want my parents, my friends, and my entire family to hear what I have to say when I marry you. I want them to understand why I want to spend the rest of my life with you—and also to have a family with you. If you want to get married this June—which I also want—then this is the best way to make that happen.”
I put my hand on his shoulder and kissed him when he said that, but my racing thoughts cut through me like knives.
His mother despises me, I thought. When we were there two Christmases ago, she made it clear to me in all sorts of clever and subtle ways that I wasn’t good enough for her son. Several times, she tried to embarrass me in front of him. So, what is she going to do to me if we do get married there? Humiliate me even more? That woman is as formidable as Blackwell, for God’s sake—and maybe even worse, because she covers her corrosiveness with a mannered smile while Blackwell never conceals who she is. Tank’s mother is cruel and deceptive. But Blackwell? Blackwell would tell you to your face to take her or leave her.
“Prairie Home,” I said, wishing I hadn’t finished my martini so quickly. I looked at the empty glass sitting on the side table as if it had betrayed me. “Who would have thought…?”
“Look,” Tank said. “I know you, and I also know that if you’re feeling any kind of reticence, it’s not about Prairie Home—it’s about my mother. I get it. When we spent Christmas there, she was terrible to you.”
“She was,” I said. “I don’t mean to sound disrespectful, Tank, but she was kind of a bitch to me. You know it. Hell, you witnessed it. She doesn’t believe I’m good enough for you—and we both know it. And since she hasn’t seen me since that Christmas, can either of us expect that she’s suddenly changed her mind about me now? Of course she hasn’t. And why would she? We haven’t been back since, and she probably thinks I’m the one who’s keeping you from her and your father now. I know you love her. Of course you do—she’s your mother. But for me, she’s always going to be the good Christian who looks down on me as the woman who writes about the undead—and not kittens—and thus should have nothing to do with her son.”
“Here’s what matters,” he said. “I dig what you write. I couldn’t give a shit what my mother thinks about your work. And just because we haven’t been back to see my parents doesn’t mean I don’t talk to them every week. Or that they don’t know how much I’m in love with you. I think I’ve pretty much drilled that into their heads at this point.”
“You have?”
“Of course I have.”
“I had no idea.”
“You know I call them every Sunday. They’re getting older—I need to check in on them. So, when opportunity strikes, I tell them.”
“What’s their response?”
“Dad’s happy for me. Mom’s going to take some time.”
“Isn’t your judgment good enough for her?”
“Her argument is that she only had a week to get to know you.”
“And to judge me. I was perfectly nice to her. My parents raised me to be polite, Tank. So, why the mistreatment?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because she always thought I’d eventually move back home and marry this girl I used to date from Prairie Home.”
And when he said that, I just looked at him.
“OK—so that just came out of nowhere.”
“That’s because I have no interest in the girl she wanted me to marry. And besides, that woman is already married to a great guy I used to be on the football team with in high school. They now have two children of their own.”
“You dated her in high school?”
“Yeah. You know—as in seventeen years ago. When I was a sophomore.”
“And yet your mother still holds a torch for each of you? Why? Especially after all this time?”
“Probably because Linda is a member of my mother’s quilting club and they see each other every Thursday night.”
“Quilting club?” I said. “Quilting club? Now I feel as if I’m going to hurl.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t quilt! And because your mother is going to expect me to be able to. She’s g
oing to expect me to stitch together this huge fucking quilt for you in order to keep you warm during the winter—just like Linda would have done if she were still single and available.”
“OK, so you need to calm down—”
“Tank, regardless what your mother thinks of me, all I can do is love you with all my heart, but that’s clearly not enough when it comes to her. I mean, come on—my talents are weirdly specific. They’re reserved for murdering people in print and then bringing them back to life again so they can go on to murder other people. Rinse and repeat. I’m far from being the kind of domestic goddess your mother wants for you.”
“Lisa, it’s going to be all right.”
“But how do you know that?”
“Because I’ve already called my mother out on her behavior.”
And where did that even come from?
“You have?”
“Of course I have.”
“When?”
“About a week after we left Prairie Home.”
“And you’re telling me this now?”
“You know me—I like to handle things like this on my own. And when it comes to how my family treats you, I consider it a private matter that I will handle on my own. My mother got an earful from me after we last saw her.”
“I had no idea…”
“Well, she did.”
“And how did that go over?”
“My mother wants a relationship with me. And because she does, she heard me when I told her that if she doesn’t treat you with respect, she’ll be seeing a whole lot less of me. You and I skipped seeing my parents this Christmas for that reason alone. I have a feeling she gets it now. I have a feeling that when you see her again, you’re going to be meeting a whole different person.”
“You came on that strong?”
“I did.”
“And here I thought that nothing had been said…”
“I’ll always take care of you, Lisa. I hope you know that. I need you to believe me when I say that my mother won’t be an issue.”
“But how can you promise me that, Tank? You’re not her.”
“You’re right,” he said. “I’m not—but we’ll be arriving together, and she’ll know that she’ll have to be on her best behavior with me there.”
I hadn’t considered that.
“So, we do this?” he asked. “We get married in Prairie Home?”
Where is another martini when I need one? Oh, look—nowhere.
“We do,” I said. “Because I see no other choice. Tomorrow we’ll call your parents and see how they feel about it.”
“They’ll be thrilled,” he said.
Will they? I wondered. Because I’m not so sure about that, Tank. In fact, you might need to gird your loins when we make that call.
“I have one provision,” I said.
“What’s that?”
“We call by speakerphone.”
“Why by speakerphone?”
“Because your mother is formidable. We both know it. We also know that if it were just the two of you on the line, she might resist this. But if she knows that both of us are on the line when you call? That’s going to be a hell of a lot harder for her to achieve.”
“And this is why I love you,” he stated.
I gave him a kiss.
“In fact, how about if we go upstairs and I show you just how much I love you?” he suggested.
“Really?”
“Really.”
Without a word and in one fell swoop, Tank swept me into his arms. He stood and kissed me on the neck, and I held on tightly as he took the stairs to our bedroom on the second floor, where he made love to me for one blissful hour.
CHAPTER THREE
When I awoke the next morning, the memory of what I’d agreed to the night before was the first thing that slammed into my consciousness. And when it did, it was like taking a solid punch to the gut.
With no options to marry here in Manhattan, I’d agreed to marry Tank on his parents’ working cow-and-chicken farm in Prairie Home, Nobraska—and how would that smell in the heat of June?
Worse, later today we—together—planned to call Tank’s mother, Ethel, to see if she’d even agree to host the event. And God only knew how that would go over, especially since she’d always wanted her only son to marry somebody by the name of Linda—who was already married with two children.
As I lay there in bed with Tank lightly snoring beside me, I looked up at the ceiling and knew that somehow I had to win Ethel over during that call. If I could do that, perhaps none of this would be as bad as I imagined.
And so, without waking Tank, I quietly slipped out of bed, put on a pretty red-silk robe that I knew was his favorite, and after dipping into the bathroom to run a comb through my hair and toss cold water onto my face, I snuck downstairs to make my man the breakfast he deserved.
But not before I called Jennifer.
“You agreed to do what?” she asked when I spilled the news to her.
“You heard me,” I whispered in the living room, which was as far away from our bedroom as I could get so Tank wouldn’t hear me. “And frankly, what choice did I have? Come hell or high water, I will become a June bride, Jennifer. Tank’s June bride. So, guess what? This June, I’m officially becoming his wife.”
“But what about his mother?” she asked. “You told me she treated you like shit when you first met her. Does she even know about this yet?”
“No. We plan on breaking the news to her later this morning.”
“Oy,” she said.
“Tell me about it. I’ve got to win her over, Jennifer. I’ve got to make her like me. Any advice?”
“I don’t know—maybe just be yourself?”
“Didn’t work the first time, so why would it work now?”
“Noted.” A beat passed. “She’s religious, isn’t she?”
“Totally. Her rosary beads are always at the hot and ready.”
“How about if you tell her you’re writing a novel about the second coming?”
“Hilarious. Come on—I need something concrete.”
“Lisa, I’m afraid I’ve got nothing.”
“But you won over Blackwell, for God’s sake! Of course you have something.”
“Eventually I won her over, but it was a struggle to get there, as you know. And from what you’ve told me, Tank’s mother sounds worse.”
“She is worse. Blackwell just judges what you’re wearing. But Ethel McCollister? She stares deep into your soul and judges you.”
“You know,” she said, “I bet you can buy a proper soul on Amazon if you searched for it. They sell everything there.”
“This isn’t supposed to be funny.”
“I’m just trying to lighten the mood and make you laugh, because it sounds as if you need one. But I’ll be honest with you, Lisa—I can’t believe you’re going to allow Tank’s mother, of all people, to host your wedding after the way she treated you when you first met.”
“What choice do I have?”
She sighed. “Pretty much none if you want this done by June. Because I agree with you—hosting your wedding would be way too much for your parents to handle. They’re barely holding it together as it is.”
“Exactly. So…it’s happening. In a few hours, we’re going to talk to Ethel via speakerphone.”
“You’re doing this by speakerphone?”
“Yes—and for a reason.”
“What reason?”
“Because I’m not stupid. That judgmental bitch is going to know that I’m on the line when Tank calls. Whatever she has to say about this, she’s going to know that I’m listening to all of it. So, get ready to get your ass down to Prairie Home, Nobraska, in June, because this shit is happening—even if it is on a farm!”
“Look, Lisa, we grew up in Maine and have been to plenty of farms—we both know they can be beautiful.”
“Tank said the land is particularly pretty there in the summer. He also said he’d have a gazebo built
for us near a pond that’s filled with swans.”
“Swans?”
“Yes,” I said. “And apparently a shitload of them.”
“Actually, that does sound pretty,” she said. “So, let me give you something to think about before I go. With the right staging and the right location—and especially if you manage to get Tank’s mother in line—Prairie Home might offer you something pretty sweet, don’t you think? I mean, if everything comes together in your favor, think of it—you’ll be surrounded by friends, a lovely location, a gazebo, and swans in a pond. The more I think of it, this could be fabulous. And the good news is that if you settle this with Tank’s parents today, then we have more than enough time to plan for something epic. Because Lord knows you’ve wanted that epic wedding ever since we were children.”
“I do want it,” I said, “if only because I don’t plan on getting married again. Tank is the one for me, Jennifer. He and I are going to raise a family and grow old together. I know that in my gut.”
“You have my full support when it comes to this, so if you need anything from me, just ask.”
“I need you and Blackwell to help me find a dress.”
“Done. Now, I wish I could continue talking, lovey, but Aiden just spit up on my shoulder and in my hair.”
“You’ve been talking to me this entire time while you’ve been holding him?”
“I’ve been nursing him,” she said. “And by the way, let me just welcome you to what motherhood looks like, because as much as I love my boy, when he barfs on me…it isn’t pretty.”
“Thanks for listening to me, Jennifer.”
“Anytime. Keep me in the loop. And good luck with Ethel. Call me later in the day if you need to. But right now? Right now, Aiden just hurled yet again, and I need to go.”
Before I could say anything more, the line went dead.
CHAPTER FOUR
After Tank awoke and we had breakfast, we went upstairs to his office to call his mother.
“Are you OK?” he asked, squeezing my hand. “It’s just a phone call…”
It was more than that, but when I said I was fine, Tank pressed the button that put us on speakerphone, and then the sound of loud dialing rang out into the room as Tank punched a series of numbers. When the line was answered and Ethel’s voice echoed into the room, my stomach tightened.
Unleash Me: Wedding (The Unleash Me Series) Page 2
