Thirty-Three Going On Girlfriend (The Spinster Series Book 2)

by Becky Monson

  I’m not cheating on Jared. What I’m doing is biding my time until I see him, whenever that is. It’s helpful that Paul just happened to be around to help me through this rough day that I’m having. It’s a welcome distraction, even though I was initially disappointed that is was him that came through my bakery door and not Jared.

  The conversation stays light and easy-going with Paul. We discuss the bakery and business, and he tells me what he does for a living (graphic design, which explains the way he handled the label on the cookie with such regard—graphic designers appreciate graphic design).

  Debbie and Patti pipe in every now and then with questioning that sounds more like detective work (“And how do you know our Julia?”) rather than polite conversation. Luckily, Paul doesn’t notice.

  I show him my technique for frosting. There is actual real buttercream frosting on this cake. None of that fondant nastiness. I can do fondant, but I don’t like it.

  “So, why buttercream frosting?” Paul asks as he tries to scoop a finger-full off the side of the mixing bowl. I’m able to snatch the bowl away before he’s successful. He’s got a lot of nerve trying to stick his finger into my mixing bowl. We barely know each other.

  “Because it’s amazeballs,” I say, not meaning to say it. It just comes out.

  “Um, who says ‘amazeballs’ in their thirties?” he asks, still trying to reach for the bowl to sample some of the frosting.

  “I believe you don’t have to worry about it until you’re in your forties,” I say, grabbing a clean spoon from the adjacent counter. I spoon out a good amount and give it to him.

  “Thank you.” He takes the spoon out of my hand. “You must have gotten that article from Brown as well.”

  “Yes, I did,” I say, picking up a spatula. I spoon out a large amount of the buttercream and dollop it on top of the cake. “I should have figured she would send it to everyone.”

  “I think she’s single-handedly trying to eradicate the word,” he says between licks of the frosting.

  “Well, amazeballs wasn’t actually a part of my vocabulary until she sent me the article, so the joke is on her.”

  He snickers at that and then tries to swipe another spoon full of frosting, but I’m able to ward him off.

  Before I know it, Patti and Debbie have left for the day and it’s time to go home and get ready for the rehearsal dinner. Time flies when you have someone to distract you from your real life, I guess.

  “Well, thanks for the cake-making lesson,” Paul says as we walk out the front door of the bakery. “I don’t know if I’ll ever look at a cake in the same way again.”

  “How did you look at a cake before?” I ask with a smirk.

  “With awe and admiration, of course. Now I know it’s just a baked slab of pastry stuck together with filling and frosting slopped all over it.” He smirks.

  “That is not how I just made that cake,” I deadpan.

  He nudges me with his shoulder to demonstrate that he’s joking around as I lock the deadbolt that keeps my bakery somewhat safe. As if that really keeps it safe. I mean anyone could throw a brick through the glass and break right in, but for some reason that deadbolt makes me feel like the bakery is protected. I’ve even gone all OCD and had to check it five times before I knew it was locked for certain. Luckily that doesn’t happen all that often to me. It’s super annoying when it does.

  “So are you still with that guy?” he asks as I turn toward him.

  “Huh?” I ask, taken aback by the question.

  “That guy, at the wedding. The PDA one?”

  “Oh yes, that guy. Um, yeah, I’m still seeing him. I think,” I say, staring down at the concrete sidewalk, trying to keep my face from blushing after the PDA comment. It doesn’t work.

  “You think?” he asks, obviously hearing me even though I thought I had said it under my breath.

  I shake my head. “It’s complicated.”

  Ugh, did I really just say that? I hate it when people say that. I feel like I’ve just publicly changed my Facebook relationship status.

  “Complicated,” he states. “What’s so complicated?”

  “Well, it’s just that,” I look down at the sidewalk again, feeling awkward. “You know what? I don’t feel like talking about it,” I say and then give him a closed-mouth smile.

  “Gotcha.” He nods once. “Well let me know if your status ever changes to no longer being in that complicated relationship.” He smiles. Not smirks. Just a nice, genuine, teeth-filled grin, and nice teeth, to boot.

  “Um,” I say, not sure what to say to that. This is the second time that Paul has pseudo-hit on me. Since Jared is my one and only boyfriend and has been for the past ten months, I’m not sure how to respond.

  “See you around, Julia,” Paul says without giving me a chance to even retort.

  With a small wave, he walks away. I stand there, slack-jawed, with what I’m sure is a shocked expression on my face. I’ve had two encounters with Paul and both times it’s ended with me caught completely off guard and speechless.

  It’s been a while since I felt off my guard and speechless. In fact, it was about a year ago, in an office building not far from here.

  Spectraltech. Jared. That feels like ages ago.

  CHAPTER 22

  I’ve never been able to figure out why we have to have a rehearsal dinner. I’m totally okay with rehearsing the wedding, and then just going home and going to bed. But no, tonight there will be a rehearsal for the actual wedding, then a dinner, and then instead of going home to my bed, I have to go to a hotel suite with Anna, my mom, and the rest of the bridesmaids, so we can braid each other’s hair and have pillow fights. I’ve never had to spend the night with the bride and a bunch of giddy bridesmaids before, so I have no idea what will happen. I truly hope it’s just sleep because that is what I need.

  “Julia!” Anna yells from behind me. “You’re going way too fast. Cut the music!” she yells to my mom, who’s playing a classical piece from a portable stereo. “Julia.” I turn to see her walking toward me. “You’re not staying with the rhythm of the music. Let me show you one more time.”

  She’s in full controlling mode. I can see the madness behind her eyes. She’s stressed and tired. She should be happy and enjoying this moment in her life, but instead she seems on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I kind of know how she feels.

  I can hear the tired frustration in her voice. This is the second time she’s stopped everything to show me how to walk down the aisle. I can’t help it. She picked the hardest song to walk to. Or perhaps I was not meant for matrimony. I probably would care more if I actually cared, but I don’t, not today, at least. Jared is supposed to come to the rehearsal dinner, and I have no idea if he will be there. All I know is that the longer I go without hearing from him, the angrier I get at the whole situation. The fact that he can just shut me out, and easily do so since he’s a zillion miles away, is just one more reason why I see that long-distance relationships have no hope. My stomach is tied in knots, so obviously I have much more important things to think about than whether I can walk down the aisle in a perfect march.

  It also doesn’t help that I’m walking toward Jooonathon with his perfectly coiffed hair and tailored business suit. He looks smug standing up at the front next to his groomsmen, waiting for all of us to walk down the aisle. He’s done nothing for this wedding, and now he gets to stand up at the front while the rest of us have to do the walking. How fitting.

  I try my very best the next time, only because I don’t want to do it again, and because tomorrow I’ll be doing this in front of bunches of people. And if I go too fast or fall flat on my face (which is highly likely in the shoes I’m wearing—Tori Burch, my butt), that will only add to the shame of my being the eldest of the Ray Dorning family and still not married.

  Marriage. Love. I spit on all of it.

  I make it down the aisle, this time without being stopped by Anna. Either I did it correctly, or it was not terrible en
ough to be stopped. I’m okay with either reason.

  I stand up at the front and watch as the other bridesmaids come down the aisle, one by one. Jonathon’s parents are seated in the front row, both carrying smug looks. What is with this family? It’s as if they all think they are the best family ever. Does Anna really want to marry into a family like this?

  Finally, it’s Anna’s turn to rehearse walking down the aisle. My dad escorts her to the back of the chapel and they start walking perfectly to the music.

  I hope this doesn’t take too long. It’s not a full rehearsal, of course. No vows. Those will be saved until tomorrow.

  Now that I’ve got a perfect view of Anna’s face as she walks down the aisle, she looks pretty pale. Is she having second thoughts? Will I have to do a pep talk like I did with Brown? I’m not sure I could be so peppy with Anna. I think I’d end up convincing her to run away.

  “Stop!” Anna yells from halfway down the aisle. Her voice is loud, but wobbly. “Just stop,” she says more quietly as she unhooks her arm from my dad’s and sits down in the pew that they were just about to pass. My mother cuts the music.

  “Anna?” Jonathon says as he walks quickly over to her, with me following him. “Anna, are you okay?”

  “Yes,” she says quietly. “Yes, I’m just light-headed all of a sudden.”

  “Everyone stand back,” my dad says because a bunch of us are surrounding her at this point. “I think she needs some air.”

  “I’m fine,” Anna says, her voice a little less wobbly. “Just give me a second, okay?”

  Everyone gives her space except for Jonathon, who’s sitting next to her, holding her hand and whispering something in her ear. His other hand is caressing the back of her hair. I’m standing in the aisle, just next to the pew, but far enough away as not to crowd her.

  I knew it. She took on too much. How can he just sit there and try to calm her down when he’s the cause of all of it? I have half a mind to say something. But just as I go to open my mouth, my mother comes in with a glass of water and some crackers and gives them to Anna. She eats and drinks, and almost immediately some color starts to come back to her face.

  “This is ridiculous,” I whisper to my mother, who looks wrought with concern. “She’s been spread too thin.”

  “I know. But it’s not our place to say anything,” she whispers back to me.

  I roll my eyes. That’s how we Dornings handle most things, just roll over and take it. I’m sick of being that way. I’m taking this whole long-distance thing from Jared; I’m watching Anna take this whole wedding on by herself without saying anything. It’s not right.

  Anna stands up and declares that she’s ready and we all go to our places. Luckily, she does not make the bridesmaids walk down the aisle again, we just start from the part when she comes in. I don’t know if I have it in me to do it right one more time, and if I do, I need to save it for tomorrow.

  Except for the concerned glances everyone keeps giving to Anna, the rehearsal goes on without any more drama. Anna appears less pale as they go through the steps with the wedding officiant.

  Once we’ve finished with the wedding rehearsal, we all load up in cars and head over to the restaurant for the dinner part of this rehearsal. This is the part where Jared is supposed to join me, only I have no idea if he will. And if he does, what will we say? I’m at the point of lashing out at him or something. I can feel myself riling up by the second. My anger with Jonathon and worry for Anna definitely pushed me further with the riling. My stomach is so full of pukey butterflies and my mind is such a jumbled mess of thoughts that I’m unable to talk during the car ride. I just sit in the backseat of my dad’s car and listen to the talk radio that is blasting through the speakers. Oh, Rush Limbaugh, I haven’t missed you at all.

  A chill runs down my spine as we get out at the valet and file into the restaurant. It’s not a particularly chilly night; in fact, more the opposite, but it feels chilly all of a sudden to me.

  Walking into the restaurant lobby, I look around, frantically hoping that Jared is here. I probably seem a little freakish to anyone who might be watching me. I’m past the point of caring. I’ve moved to full-blown crazy person in my mind. No one is paying attention to me anyway. Everyone is crowding around Anna, still concerned for her as she reassures them that she’s fine. Jonathon has had her in close proximity since the episode at the church.

  In my peripheral vision, I see some movement in the corner of the lobby and I sweep my head around. Sitting in the corner, in a large, tall-back leather chair is Jared. He’s here. Jared’s here. I had thought that seeing him would put a halt to all the thoughts that have been racing through my brain, but instead, the sight of him breaks my heart into a million stupid pieces.

  He stands up from the chair he’s sitting in and starts walking toward me.

  “Hello, Jared.” My dad stops him before he can make his way to me. He shakes Jared’s hand with a firm grasp and pats him on the back with his free one. “Good to see you. Where have you been these days?”

  Jared gives me a strange look. “I’ve been in New York. Didn’t Julia tell you?” My dad shakes his head because I haven’t told him. I haven’t told anyone yet, except Debbie and Patti. “I’ve taken a permanent job there.”

  “Oh,” my dad angles slightly toward me, “no, she hasn’t told me.” He keeps shaking Jared’s hand, taking turns looking at him and then at me. It gets awkward, actually. “Well, we’ll catch up later. Glad you could make it,” he finally says, relinquishing Jared from his grip.

  Jared gives him a quick nod and then walks over to me.

  “Hello,” I say in a stubborn sounding voice.

  “Hey,” he says back.

  So now is the part where he takes me in his arms and says he can’t live without me, and that he was miserable not talking to me this past week, and thereby squelching the angry fire that is burning inside of me.

  I swallow hard. He doesn’t do any of that. We just stand there, staring at each other.

  Someone announces that we can all go back to the dining room, but my legs are rooted to the ground where I am, and food does not sound even remotely appetizing.

  “Let’s talk,” he finally says, taking me by the hand and leading me outside.

  I follow along, but not before I make eye contact with Anna and she gives me a questioning look. I just shrug my shoulders and mouth to her that I’ll be right back.

  Jared leads me to a bench outside the restaurant. Letting go of my hand, he motions for me to have a seat. But I don’t want to sit down. I need to stand. It just feels like I should be standing. So he follows suit and stays standing. He turns and faces me.

  “Julia, I’ve had some time to think and—”

  “I’m so glad you’ve had time to think while you’ve left me completely hanging over here,” I interrupt him.

  “Well, what did you expect me to do?” His voice gets a little stern, but not louder. “You practically freaked out when I hadn’t talked to you for one day. I thought we were doing just fine.”

  I shake my head. “It wasn’t just the one day, Jared. It was the slow progression over the time since you left. I’ve tried to think positively, that this could work. But how can it?”

  “Where is all of this coming from?” he asks, frustration in his tone.

  “From many places, starting with the fact that you didn’t even care what I thought and just took that job in New York.” I glance down at the sidewalk, tears stinging my eyes.

  “Julia, I thought we worked that out? I told you I didn’t have much choice. I really wish there was another option.”

  “Do you?” I ask, not convinced that he believes that. “Did you even try to look in Denver?” A single tear escapes and leaks down to my chin.

  He doesn’t say anything, answering with his silence. “It’s not that simple,” is all he says.

  “I don’t know if I can do this, Jared,” my mouth says, not consulting my brain first. And there it is, the
plain truth. I really don’t know if I can do this.

  “What can’t you do? Be in a relationship with me?” His face flashes red.

  “It’s not that. I just don’t think this long-distance thing will work.” I look down at the floor. I’m not holding back, I’m saying what I feel. This is not how I usually deal with things. It feels weird, but also sort of validating.

  “Jules, I love you. We can make this work. I know we can.” He reaches out to take my hand, but I shake him off.

  “I wish I felt like it could work, but there’s just no end in sight. I don’t know if I can invest all this time trying, only to realize it won’t work because you’ll be living your life in New York and I’ll be living my life here.”

  “New York won’t be forever, Jules,” he says, his eyes searching my face, pleading with me.

  “Okay, so how long then? Give me some sort of ballpark guess,” I say, hoping that he might have an answer, even though I already know he doesn't.

  “I can't do that,” he says, which is exactly what I was expecting.

  “I don’t think that’s enough for me,” I say quietly, looking down at the floor. Am I really saying what I think I’m saying? Is this what I truly want?

  “What are you saying then?” His face red with anger. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him this mad.

  I pause, swallowing deeply, taking in everything that has just been said by both of us. I’ve told him my thoughts, and he has not said anything to make me think otherwise.

  “I guess I’m saying that I think maybe we should break things off now, before it gets messy and even worse later on.”

  He just stands there staring at me. “Don’t do this,” he says, finally.

  “I’m sorry,” I say through the tears now pouring down. “I don’t see any other way.”

  He looks me up and down and then, without saying a word, he turns and walks toward the parking lot. I just watch him. Part of me wants to chase after him and tell him never mind and that I’m an idiot. But the other part of me knows that this is a lost cause, and that if Brown and Anna were here, they would tell me just that. It’s better to end it now. Pull the Band-Aid off now.