Panic (The Flaw Series)
Page 3
“Oooh, so you’re about to get laid.” Jamie sits back in her chair and plunks her white sneakers up on the desk. “Is he an old friend or an old boyfriend?”
“He was my boyfriend back in high school.” I share. “We grew up together. But then when we got together, we kind of moved too fast and everything just fell apart. We were young and stupid. Our relationship kind of became one big mess.”
“Did you love him?”
I take a breath and hold it before answering her. “Yes, I did.” A hint of a smile slips out with the truth. Still do, never stopped.
“Aw! And now he’s back and you two are probably gonna fall in love all over again and you’re gonna get married and have his babies and shit. Just like in the movies. I’m so freaking jealous. Shit like that never happens to me.”
Love, marriage, babies? Hold on. Slow down. My good mood begins to dissolve. None of that is ever going to happen. It won’t. It can’t. I squeeze my lips together and gulp.
“Don’t be jealous, Jamie. Trust me, I’ve got nothing to be jealous over.”
There’s a knock on the door and Ellen, the woman who works the front desk, enters holding a large bouquet of red roses. “Look what came for you, Robin,” she sings, holding up the flowers.
“Oh, yeah, there’s nothing to be jealous of.” Jamie laughs, rolling her eyes. She takes the bouquet from Ellen, giving it big sniff and pulls out the little card. “Here open it.”
I snatch the card from her hand and shove it in my pocket. “I’ll open it later. I’m in the middle of scanning someone.”
“Oh. My. God.” Jamie stomps her foot with each word for effect. “Open the damn card, it’ll take two seconds.”
I reach in and take out the card.
Robin,
This time everything will be perfect.
Love, Kent
My eyes immediately fill with tears reading the promising words. Jamie and Ellen give romantic little sighs, assuming my emotion is one of joy from the sweet sentiment on the card. Only it’s not. This time everything won’t be perfect.
I can never give Kent perfect.
Kent
My laptop sits open and propped up on my lap as I scroll through all of the jobs in or surrounding Robin’s town of Cherry Wood. Scribbling down the ones I hope I’m qualified enough for on a little scrap of paper. I’m realizing there isn’t much out there for me, even with a degree, but I’ll take whatever I can get. I just want to be closer to Robin. I haven’t told my family yet that I plan on relocating, but I know they’ll understand.
Robin asked me to hold off a bit longer before telling my family that she was sick. She’s afraid it will dampen everyone’s spirits before the wedding. The wedding she is now thankfully attending as my date.
The phone vibrates across the table and I reach for it, expecting it to be Robin. I’m guessing by now she received the roses I sent her.
Ashley: I need you! It’s an emergency! Can u come to ur parent’s house right now?
I call her phone but she doesn’t answer. I scramble to send her a text while I search through the slop on my coffee table for my keys.
Kent: Is everything okay?
Ashley: Just get here quick!!
Kent: On my way.
I’m out the door, racing down the backstreets toward my parent’s house. Please, God, let everyone be okay. I park my beat-up Accord crooked in the street as I barrel my way across the yard towards the front door.
Ashley rushes out to greet me, wearing a sleek black jacket and a pair of sunglasses. “Thank God you’re here. I need you to come with me, Patrick got stuck doing something at school and I need help.” She grabs me by the elbow, leading me towards her car.
“Where are we going? Is everyone okay?” I ask, dragging behind her before getting shoved into the passenger seat of her brand new white Mercedes.
She waits until she’s buckled and pulling out of the driveway to answer me. “Today is the cake tasting and I need someone to help me decide.”
“Are you kidding me?” I snap, pissed and not hiding it. “You just had me rush over here for some damn cake emergency? I thought someone was hurt.”
Ashley swings her blonde hair over her shoulder, shrugging nonchalantly, ignoring my anger.
“Why me? Don’t you have a million other people you can ask?”
“Patrick’s stuck at school. Matthew is in school. Your parents are working. My mother is away. Tessa will be there but she doesn’t really like cake and she’s certainly not going to be eating any with her own wedding so close. So, that leaves you.” She gives me a quick pout and then redirects her attention to the road. “My almost brother-in-law. My sweet, amazing, kind-hearted brother-in-law.”
I have no choice. I’m being kidnapped, rushed off to a place where I will be force-fed cake. This is unreal. I don’t even get a chance to fix my half-assed parking job. Ashley presses a heavy foot onto the accelerator and barrels down the tree-lined street. Watch out people, we’ve got a cake emergency!
The cul-de-sac of upscale homes on the other side of town comes into sight and Ashley parks in front of Tessa’s parent’s house. Tessa, the maid of honor, is friends with the girl who’s making the cake for the wedding. According to Ashley’s incessant ramblings on the way over here, Cassie Demarco is one of the best there is when it comes to wedding cakes. She’s not only doing her cake but Tessa’s, as well.
Ashley doesn’t even get a chance to ring the doorbell before Tessa swings the door open. “Ah, Kent!” she exclaims. “I didn’t know you were coming. Look, I’m engaged.” She flashes a large diamond at me.
“I heard, congratulations.” I lean forward, ready to give her a hug, but she moves away causing me stumble like an ass. She’s already moved on, yammering away to Ashley. “Cassie is on her way. She’ll be here any minute.”
We’re ushered into the kitchen where Tessa immediately opens up her laptop, pulling up images of dresses, flowers, cakes, more dresses. Ashley whips out her phone and goes image for image with Tessa. The competitive nature I remember them having in high school resurfaces ever so slightly. Back then they were two rich bitches, now they’re just two rich … fiancés.
The doorbell chimes through the house and Tessa bounces away. Ashley motions for me to come stand next to her and points to an image on Tessa’s laptop. It’s a picture of a bouquet, some white flowery-looking thing wrapped up in a pink ribbony thing. “Look at that,” Ashley whispers, raising her eyebrows. “My wedding is going to be so much nicer.” Tessa’s heels come clicking down the hardwood floors of the hallway and Ashley uses both hands to push me away.
A tall dark-haired girl rolling a huge piece of luggage walks in behind Tessa. “This is my friend Cassie. Cassie, this is Ashley and Kent.”
“Kent? I thought the groom’s name was Patrick?” Cassie asks, setting down her bag and crouching down to unzip it.
“Patrick can’t make it, this is his brother Kent,” Ashley supplies.
“Kent? Kent?” Cassie questions out loud, rummaging through her bag. “Why does that sound so familiar?” She stands up from her crouched position and faces Tessa. “You went to the prom with Kent,” she says and laughs. “I remember the story you told me when we worked together at camp.”
Tessa’s complexion turns the color of a tomato. Mine, I’m sure, is a close shade of red itself. Tessa and I did go to the prom together and afterwards had a weird, strange, almost hookup of sorts. Not one of my fondest memories. Great, looks like Tessa shared that story with this girl that I now get to be with for the next hour or so. When it comes to kiss and tell, guys always get the bad rep, but more times than not, it’s the girls who give away all the detailed info.
“Cassie, I’m so glad you’re able to do my cake. I know you are so booked.”
“I am.” Cassie flashes a smile at us. “In fact, there’s a very important wedding cake that I’m going to be working on this July.”
“Is it someone famous?” Ashley questions excitedly.
Cassie raises her left hand and presents a diamond engagement ring.
“Oh, my God, Mark proposed?” Tessa is jumping wildly, grasping onto Cassie to pull her into a close embrace.
“Congratulations!” Ashley exclaims excitedly, jumping along with them, even though she just met this girl like two minutes ago. “Did you a book place yet? What about flowers?”
Fantastic. More wedding talk.
The cake tasting doesn’t even begin until thirty minutes later, due to the mandatory wedding chatter among the three of them. Their voices are high, eager, excited. They all wriggle in their seats, bouncing with anticipation, talking over each other, giving detail after boring detail. Boring to me, but certainly not to them; they are over the top giddy over things like napkin colors. I don’t get it.
I’ve resorted to playing Candy Crush on Ashley’s phone when the first little plate finally gets placed in front of me. A little pink frosted square. I taste it. Ah-mazing. I finish chewing. “This one,” I say to the eager eyes watching me. “This is definitely the one you should pick.”
I expect Ashley to be thrilled that I love the cake and was able to help her choose so easily. But of course, she’s not. “That’s the first piece of cake. You have nine more to try.” She purses her lips together and catching eyes with the other girls, shoots a look of exasperation towards me. They acknowledge her with understanding, rolling their eyes and shaking their heads. Liking the first piece of cake has apparently made me an imbecile to the three of them.
Plate two is delicious. So is every other piece I try. I know Ashley doesn’t want to hear that; she wants me to choose one. “The lemon is my favorite,” I say confidently after I finish the last piece and finish swallowing down a large glass of water.
“The lemon?” Ashley frowns. “Are you sure?’
I can tell just by looking at her sour puss she didn’t want me to choose lemon. I hate Patrick for not being here instead of me. He owes me big time. Ashley eyes the plate with the little pink crumbs and twists her hair nervously around her finger.
“I meant the raspberry one,” I say, picking up on the obvious.
Ashley relaxes her shoulders, releases the coiled hair, and smiles. “Yes, that’s the one I think, too.”
She allowed herself a small bite of each cake. I will myself to take deep calming breaths and count to ten. She knows what she wants and I didn’t really need to be here. Not to mention the raspberry was the first piece I tried.
Thank you, Jesus, the design of the cake had been established before the tasting or I’m positive I’d be here all night. Ashley tries to continue the inane chit chat with the girls, but I force her out the door. I think I’ve more than fulfilled my duty as good brother-in-law for the day.
In the car, I rub a hand over my aching cake-filled gut. My head is also throbbing from two hours of squealing wedding details. I examine Ashley’s dashboard, figuring out how to flick on the air conditioning.
“Thank you,” Ashley says, her voice getting a little shaky. “You coming with me meant a lot. It’s times like this when I realize how lucky I am not only to be marrying Patrick but also to be becoming part of your family.”
Ashley grew up an only child, always wishing for siblings. Her father left when she was a little girl. Her mother struggled with alcoholism, making life for Ashley unimaginable at times. She grew up surrounded by luxury and more money than she knew what to do with but I know she would’ve traded all of the material things in a heartbeat for an inkling of a normal family life.
“Ashley you became part of our family a long time ago.” It’s true. And pain-in-the-butt though she may be, I’ve come to the point where I can’t imagine life without her. She’s the pesky little sister I never knew I wanted.
Her hand leaves the steering wheel to dab at her eye. She takes a big sniffle in. “When you and Robin get married, I’ll make Patrick go taste cakes with her.”
“No, I’m sure that won’t be necessary. You know Robin.”
“That’s true.” That makes her smile. “I can just picture her being like, ‘Any cake is fine.’”
I nod my head with a chuckle. Robin is definitely a girl of much simpler tastes than Ashley. “Well, at least now I’ve done a tasting so I’ll be able to choose for us. And I’ll choose the lemon,” I say.
Ashley jams her foot down on the break. The car rolls over the bumpy gravel to the side of the road and we jerk forward as she shifts the car into park. “Lemon? I thought you changed your mind and said raspberry was the best?” She gawks at me, her mouth hanging wide open.
Holy shit, I can’t do this for two more weeks. I’ll blow my brains out if I have to deal with any more of this wedding crap. And I’m not even the groom. Thank God Robin is nothing like Ashley when it comes to this kind of stuff. “Ashley, I’m saying lemon because you wouldn’t want us to have the same cake as you and Patrick, would you?” I hear the irritation in my voice, but damn, enough is enough.
Ashley rests her head on top of her hands, leaning into the steering wheel and starts weeping. “It’s just Tessa’s cake is going to be Passion Fruit and that’s so adorable and everyone is going to love her cake and remember it and I just want mine to be memorable, too.” Tears are actually streaming down her face. “Patrick doesn’t deserve some second-rate cake.”
“Ashley.” I reach over and stroke the back of her head while her shoulders bob up and down in dramatic sobbing motions. “Are you serious with this right now? Is there something else bothering you?” This really can’t just be about cake. We’re on the side of the road and she’s falling apart over cake flavors.
“I keep waiting for Patrick to wake up and realize that I’m not good enough for him.” Black mascara is running in two watery streaks down her face.
Okay, we’ve reached full-blown crazy mode. I have no clue where this is all coming from. This must be a case of pre-wedding jitters. “Ashley, Patrick loves you. You know that. He has since he was ten. You’re always yapping about your great big love story, you know the guy worships you.”
Ashley straightens up, sitting back against the leather seat. “Kent, I’m going to tell you something that I never told you before and I know that then you’re going to understand why I’m not good enough for Patrick.” She closes her eyes and takes an overly dramatic breath deep in through her nose. “Do you remember when we were in high school and I started coming to your house?”
“Yes.” I nod. Ashley had started coming over as a ploy I concocted to make Robin jealous. Things were a little confusing at first. Ashley had misconstrued the nature of our relationship. She had a tendency of thinking she needed things she didn’t really want. It turned out my brother came to her rescue, being everything she needed and wanted.
“Do you remember the night that your parents went away and I surprised you picking you up from band practice? But then Robin, I don’t know, sliced her hand or something and you left to go help her.”
“Yes.” That was the night when I got Robin to finally open up about her feelings for me. The memory brings a huge grin to my lips.
“Well, you didn’t know it, but I was up in your room waiting in …” She covers her face for more melodramatic tears. I wait awkwardly for her to compose herself and finish. “I was in your room waiting, dressed up in a slutty Super Girl costume.” She takes a brief pause for some more crying. “And then you sent Patrick in to tell me you weren’t coming back and he walked in and saw me like that. Waiting for you. Dressed like a slut. Why?” she sobs. “Why is he marrying me?”
What? Just kill me now. This is not a normal conversation to be having with the girl who is about to marry your brother. The girl who feels like a sister to me. I play it off like it’s no big deal. “So, you wanted to have sex with me like six years ago, it’s not like you want to have sex with me now.”
Her nose curls up in disgust and she gasps. A look of absolute horror is thrown in my direction. “Ew, gross, I never wanted to have sex with you!”
“Because I would have had sex with you, anyway. I think. Maybe I wouldn’t have. I don’t know. I never really found you that attractive. I mean, I did things with guys I wasn’t that attracted to back then, but you were like really, just, not my type. I mean, really I don’t think I could have gone through with it even if you had walked back into the room that night.”
She reaches up and wipes the black smudges under her eyes with the back of her hand. Then she begins to laugh. Just like that.
“Oh, my God, what’s wrong with me? I’m being silly. I know Patrick loves me. I don’t even know why I just told you that story. It was like a million years ago. And I totally would never have gone through with it. I think I just needed to get it off my chest.” She sits back, lets out another laugh, puts the blinker on and pulls back onto the road. “I’m starving. Can we stop somewhere and get a burger?”
A burger? What the fuck? She nibbled little bites of cake to avoid calories, then cried over the cake, accused herself of being a slut, basically told me I’m hideous, and now she wants a burger. I think she may have lost of lost her mind.
Good luck, Patrick.
Chapter Four
Kent
I arrive at Robin’s with a duffel bag slung over my shoulder and a garment bag containing a suit. After several visits of making the long drive there and back in one day, I’ve finally been invited to spend the night. Robin opens her front door, gives me a smile, then eyes the garment bag curiously.
“Is this a suit?” she asks, amused. Her hair is pushed behind her ears and soft touches of makeup accent her pretty face. “Two questions. Why do you own a suit? And why did you bring it here?”
“I own a suit because I was informed I needed to wear one to the rehearsal dinner for my brother’s wedding. According to his bride-to-be, just a wearing a shirt and tie would be the equivalent of me showing up naked and setting the place on fire. She’s pretty much lost her mind lately,” I say, thankful to be far away from the insanity. “I brought the suit with me so we can go somewhere nice. I was thinking we could dress up and go out tonight.” I have a lot to make up for in that department. Special nights out are going to become a regular thing this time.