by Becky Monson
“Jules,” Jared says skeptically.
“Just listen,” I say. “No one would have to know. It would be just us, only for us. And then we can come back and have our big ridiculous wedding. But the pressure would be off. There’d be no need to have the perfect day, because we would’ve already had one—just you and me. Together.”
He looks at me, studying my face.
“Anna will kill you if she finds out,” he says.
“I know, we can never tell her. Never ever.”
He smiles and I smile back. He doesn’t even have to say it. I know he’ll do this for me. I know he’ll make this happen.
He stands up, leaning over me, his nose nearly touching mine. His hand reaches up to my face and he brushes my cheek with the back of his hand and then he kisses me gently. My lips tingle in response.
“Okay,” he says.
“Okay?” I ask, wanting to hear it again.
“Okay, Julia Dorning. I’ll elope with you.”
CHAPT
ER 20
I’m eloping with Jared.
I’m so giddy, I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold it in. It’s this weekend at a beautiful resort in the mountains. Jared set it all up because he didn’t want me to do anything that might cause me stress. I think I love him even more and I didn’t think that was possible. He seems to be warming up to the idea more and more. Doing something secretive for just him and me. It makes it all that much more exciting.
The plan is for Jared to pick me up Saturday morning and drive to Vail. We get married and then spend the night in a beautiful condo. Then we come back on Sunday night as man and wife … and no one gets to know except for us. Maybe someday we’ll tell them. In a few decades. All the work everyone has put into everything—Anna, Bobby, my parents. I don’t want to hurt any feelings. Besides, they wouldn’t truly understand. Even if I tried to explain the kind of pressure it takes off me, they wouldn’t get it.
Let’s be honest, though, it’ll be a miracle for me to keep it all in. I’m a terrible secret keeper. Especially for something exciting. Avoiding everyone I love would probably be the best route, although quite impossible. I’ll just have to figure it out.
It hasn’t been too much of a problem so far this week since I’ve been ordered by the doctor to rest. Much needed rest, actually. The only thing is that it’s kind of boring. Be careful what you wish for, right? I’m all alone in my condo. Just Charlie and me, and I’m not allowed to do anything. Not even watch TV or read. The doctor has allowed me thirty minutes a day of screen time (TV, phone, iPad, anything with a screen), which is a complete joke. But that’s concussion protocol for someone who’s lost consciousness.
The thing is, I fainted before I hit the podium so I don’t think it was the head slam that caused me to lose consciousness. Regardless, I’m trying to make it work. I’ve had visitors of course—my parents and Anna. Lennon too, with Jenny and Liam (they looked happier, but I couldn’t ask about it with Jenny there). Jared has come over the past few nights after work. He’s taking such good care of me. He’s a saint, really. Like he should actually be sainted.
I’ve got a nice bruise on the upper part of my forehead. It was the normal purple color at first, but in the past couple of days it’s taken a greenish-yellowish hue that wouldn’t even be attractive on a supermodel. So you can imagine what it looks like on me. I’m not hiding it well, either. I’ll have to figure out some sort of creative hairdo to cover it when Jared and I elope this weekend. The great part? If this were the big wedding day and I had to walk down the aisle with this big ole goose egg on my forehead, I’d be mortified. But because it’s not and it’s just Jared and me, I don’t care at all. Of course I’d rather it not be there, but I can deal with it.
So the big diagnosis after the fainting/concussion incident on Saturday night was … wait for it … anxiety with a side of panic disorder. I mean, if that’s not a big duh, I don’t know what is. At least it wasn’t heart disease. The past months have been nothing but stress and I’ve never been one to handle stress well. I should’ve seen all this coming, but I guess I kept thinking I could make it work. Now it’s become chemical. Like my brain can’t even deal with it. The doctor put me on some medication that should start helping in a couple of weeks. And another med that I can take as needed when I’m feeling overwhelmed. I haven’t had to take that one yet. Lying around on my couch snuggled up with Charlie doesn’t make for a stressful time.
I’ve also been kicked off caffeine because of the heart palpitations, which is a huge bummer (honestly, how will I survive?). I keep hoping that I might be able to slowly bring it back in. Or I’ll just up my chocolate intake. That has caffeine in it and he didn’t say I couldn’t have chocolate. Things might’ve gotten super ugly if he had. I mean, what else would I have to live for?
Everyone in my life seems to be on the same page right now. No one is bothering me, but at this point I’m so bored I wouldn’t mind a little bothering. Even Anna has laid off on her constant wedding prep texts. I can’t believe I’m thinking this, but I kind of miss them. In an odd way, it was like a constant in my crazy life.
Jared put my condo on the market. He said it will probably take until the wedding to sell it (six weeks left) and we can slowly start moving my stuff over. Plus, now that we are eloping and won’t be “living in sin” we can start our life together. Of course, Bobby can’t know any of this, so we’ll have to keep it a secret from her. But at least I’ll have the cover of my condo to go back to if needed.
The bakery is somehow surviving without me. Or Kate. Beth, the previous owner, has stepped in to help, thank goodness for her. I considered closing for a week, but Jared said that was a bad idea and even offered to work for me. The picture of him in an apron with flour all over his face made my insides mushy. He’s adorable.
My phone rings and I reach over and pull it off the coffee table. I’ve actually been lying here counting the freckles on my arm. I’m that bored.
It’s Brown. I’ve been waiting for this call.
“Hey,” she says in a very even tone when I answer.
“Hey,” I say back.
Silence.
“So,” I say, wanting her to talk, but not wanting to be forceful.
“So,” she says, not giving me an inch. Should I read into the fact that she’s not crying? I mean, that’s got to mean something. Of course, she could be all cried out at this point.
More silence.
“Brown, please tell me,” I say. I tire easily of games, which is why I lose Gin Rummy to Jared all the time.
“I’m still pregnant,” she says.
“What?” I say, sitting up too quickly and feeling suddenly dizzy.
“I’m still pregnant!” she says louder and now I can hear the happiness in her voice.
“You are?” I scream into the phone and my forehead bruise protests.
“Yep, there’s still a baby in there. And get this, Jules—we got to see the heartbeat. It has a heartbeat!”
“I can’t believe you led me on like that. That’s information you should always start with,” I say with an eye roll that she can’t even see. I hope she can hear it in my inflection.
“Well, you know, I always like to be mysterious,” she says.
“So what happened?” I ask.
I still hadn’t gotten a good answer from her. I talked to her the day after my fainting incident and there wasn’t much information to give. The doctor wasn’t able to provide her a definitive answer on his ultrasound equipment. He sent her to the hospital where they could use a better machine to see what’s going on, but they couldn’t get in until today. Three days seems like an incredibly long time to get answers.
“They don’t know for sure,” she says. “The tech said that some women just bleed.”
“Does that mean you’re still bleeding?”
“Nope. No more blood. For now, at least. I’m on bed rest for the next week just to make certain.”
“Too bad you can’t come over and
we can be on bed rest together. I’m so bored.”
“No way, you can’t even watch TV. I’m catching up on Downton Abbey.”
A stab of jealousy goes through me. I could be catching up on Project Runway right now. Or even Grey’s Anatomy. It’s been so long since I’ve watched that. I mean, this is only precautionary right? I should just watch TV. If only I didn’t promise Jared I wouldn’t. And since I got him to elope with me this weekend, I guess I probably should stick with my promise.
“Oh!” I say, when I think of Jared and me getting married this weekend. Then I internally cringe. It’s like the secret is so close to the tip of my tongue that I can barely hold it in. How am I ever going to keep this a secret?
“What?” Brown asks, the tone in her “what” very reminiscent of the days that we worked together at Spectraltech and spent many breaks sharing office gossip. Those breaks were the only bright spot in my days there.
“Did I tell you that the doctor told me I have anxiety?” I cringe to myself. That was a terrible attempt at recovery.
“You didn’t,” she says, the joy of possible gossip in her tone clearly absent. “But I probably could’ve diagnosed that.”
“Too bad you didn’t. Could’ve saved me an embarrassing fainting spell and subsequent concussion.”
“Sorry about that. I’ll be sure to let you know next time you’re going crazy,” she says, her voice devoid of inflection. I’m glad Brown’s sense of sarcasm hasn’t been snuffed by pregnancy. I’ve heard of people getting all sappy and sentimental from the hormones.
“Anyway, Jules, Anna and I are working on your bridal shower and bachelorette party.”
“Oh gosh, don’t worry about any of that.”
“Yes, Anna and I knew you’d say that. Don’t think you’re getting out of it.”
“Of course not,” I say in protest. Of course that’s exactly what I was thinking/hoping. “I just don’t want to stress you with the pregnancy and all.”
I really don’t want a bridal shower and I super-duper don’t want a bachelorette party. But Anna and Brown are insistent. They promise to keep it simple and “Julia-like,” which I believe is code for “boring.” Whatever. I do appreciate them for doing it, but honestly a big fat cancellation would’ve been much more appreciated.
“Don’t worry. They’re not for another few weeks. I should be ready to party by then,” she says and my heart sinks.
“Sounds great,” I say, trying to muster even just a little excitement into my voice. Then I remember that I’ll actually be a married woman by then. A thrill wiggles up my throat at the thought. It actually makes the party sound even more appealing, knowing that I have a big secret that none of them will know. This eloping thing is becoming more and more the best idea ever.
Brown and I talk a bit more about the pregnancy. I can tell that Brown is holding back from allowing herself to get too excited. Even after seeing the heartbeat, it’s like she can’t accept that it’s real. I think I’d be the same way in her shoes. Actually, I’d be a panicked mess, if how I’ve been acting in the past months is any indicator.
I do look forward to starting a family with Jared, but first I need to marry him. And I’m only days away. I can’t wait.
CHA
PTER 21
“Are you ready to marry me?” Jared asks as he comes in the door to my condo. He picks me up and spins me around.
I feel a ping of self-consciousness as he lifts me. I lost weight with the stress, but I’m pretty sure I put on a few pounds this past week when all that was left to do was eat. No TV, no reading, what else was a girl supposed to do? Plus Patti kept dropping off goodies from the bakery.
Try as I might, I can’t deny the fact that there is something missing without Kate. Debbie made fruit tarts one day and while the crust was very good, it wasn’t tear-inducing like Kate’s. I’m starting to wonder if I was a little rash with all that. I mean, she was only trying to help make things easier for me. I could’ve at least sat her down and talked to her instead of losing my crap like I did. In my defense, I was going a little mental at that point.
After the quick spinning and follow-up mini make-out session, Jared grabs my overstuffed bag and we head downstairs to his Range Rover. I feel a little silly about how much I packed for an overnight excursion, but you never know what you might need when you’re away from home. Even after packing the kitchen sink (only a slight exaggeration), I’m almost one hundred percent sure I’ve forgotten something. Something important. Not Jared’s ring; I know I have that. I purchased it a while back (thanks to Anna and her over-preparedness). Whatever I’ve forgotten, I’m just going to let it go. Nothing I can do about it now.
We’ve told everyone that Jared is whisking me away for the weekend to help me recover more and so I don’t have to sit around the condo all day. The only person not pleased about it was Anna. She said we had too much to do. But in the end, she agreed that I needed a little more time for my “nut-job brain” (her words, not mine).
Between makeup and my hair, I was able to cover the bruise on my head sufficiently. It looks a million times better today than a few days ago, thank goodness. I wasn’t looking forward to having a big nasty bruise on my head when I married Jared. I’d do it with a bag over my head, though. Nothing is holding me back from this.
As we drive toward the mountains, we both keep looking over at each other and smiling. Sometimes I add a giggle that ends in a snort, which really takes away from the romance of it all, but hey—it’s what I do.
We’re holding hands and every once in a while Jared lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it. I feel so incredibly lucky to be marrying this man. My heart feels full and warm and my stomach is dancing with butterflies. The good kind.
“So our vows,” he starts, after we enter the base of the mountains and begin climbing up the fairly steep I-70 drive that will take us to the resort.
Oh gosh, vows. I totally forgot.
“Should we say them today? Or save them for the big wedding?” he asks, keeping his eyes on the road, his hand in mine.
“You know, I think we should save them.”
“Yeah?”
“Definitely. It’ll give us something to look forward to on that day.” I keep my eyes on the road, not wanting to make eye contact with him for fear that he’d see right through me. I still haven’t written my vows.
“I like that idea,” he finally says, giving my hand a couple of quick squeezes.
The winding mountain roads that take us to the resort are lush and green and picture-perfect today with the bright blue Colorado sky that you can’t find anywhere else in the United States and the tall peaks that have year-round snow on them. I’ve taken these mountains for granted my entire life, I think. Maybe it’s because I’m feeling a little cheesy right now, but it’s almost as if I’m seeing the beauty around me with a new pair of eyes.
Jared gives my hand another little squeeze as he takes the exit off the highway to the resort. The town of Vail seems busier than I would’ve expected. There are bunches of people walking the streets and a ton of vendors selling their goods on the sidewalks. I look a little closer and it seems like the only thing the vendors are selling are bongs. Not so weird for Colorado these days, but a little odd for a place like Vail.
We drive under a large banner that says “Summer Fun Festival.”
“Do you know what that’s all about?” I ask Jared, pointing to the sign.
“Yeah, the resort mentioned it. It’s some sort of arts festival, I think.” Jared takes a turn and pulls into what I can only assume is the resort we’re staying at tonight.
Holy crow, it’s magnificent from the outside. Especially with the mountains as the backdrop. Jared drives up to the front of the resort and then parks and waits for a bellman to approach the car.
As Jared answers the questions from the bellman, I look out the window and see a group of people passing by the resort and they all kind of look like the potheads who crave the munc
hies at my bakery. Dreadlocks and bright colors abound. They all have about the same taste in clothes and fashion as Lia does. In fact, one of the people in the group that I’m looking at looks an awful lot like Lia. Maybe I’ve found her doppelganger.
After Jared gets everything squared away with the bellman, we walk into the resort hand in hand. My eyes immediately go to the vaulted ceilings. It has a French chalet look, with huge wood beams lining the a-frame ceiling. Large, comfy couches and chairs surround a huge four-sided fireplace that goes all the way to the vaulted ceiling with stacked stone detail.
We take the elevator to the top floor and walk down the hall to our room. Jared opens the door with his keycard and holds it open as I walk in. I gasp when I see the space. It has the same décor and vibe as the lobby, but on a smaller scale. An elegant sitting area and a cozy couch sits in front of a fireplace with a large ornate mantle.
“Do you like it?” Jared asks, wrapping his arms around my waist in a tender grasp.
“I love it,” I say, and then reach my face up to kiss his mouth.
He pulls away not long after the kiss starts and grabs his smart phone from his back jean pocket.
“We don’t have much time,” he says, looking at his phone. He puts the phone back in his pocket, takes me gently by the shoulders, and plants a soft kiss on my forehead.
“So we’re really going to do this?” I ask, looking up into his eyes.
He gives me a mischievous double eyebrow lift. “It looks like we are. Now hurry up and go get changed. We’re meeting the officiant down in the lobby in an hour.”
“An hour,” my eyes widen. How will I ever get ready in an hour?
Without another word, I grab my suitcase and head to the master bedroom. The suite is so big that there are two bedrooms, a master suite and a smaller room, both with full bathrooms. Jared takes the smaller room to get ready because, clearly, he loves me.
The master bathroom doesn’t disappoint. There’s a glass, dual-head shower and near that, a sunken Jacuzzi tub. Placed on the large ledge of the tub is a bottle of champagne chilling in ice, a silver platter with wine flutes, and a box of chocolate-covered strawberries.
