by Kristy Tate
“How’s it going?” Darby’s gaze flitted between Chad and the Rabbits.
“I showed them where the outlets are.” Chad nodded at the Rabbits. “Why don’t you ask Darby what you need to know? I’ll be in the house.” He tucked his hands into his pockets and strode away, wondering if all his run-ins with Darby’s family were going to be as awkward.
Maybe he could just avoid them. But for how long? A life with Darby meant a life with her family.
He stopped, paralyzed by the thought.
What was he thinking? They had just met a few weeks ago. He’d spent years with Jessica and they had never talked about marriage. Of course, they’d started dating when they were just kids, but still…why had the topic of marriage never come up? Maybe Jessica had just assumed it would happen. But neither of them had been in a hurry to the altar. So why was he already thinking about marrying Darby? It didn’t have anything to do with that clock, did it? He scratched his chin and headed back into the house.
#
Darby led Jackson and the Rabbits to the chapel. While the Rabbits searched for a place to put their sound equipment, Darby showed Jackson the cemetery.
“I want a bower of flowers arched over the chapel doors.” Darby slid a glance at Jackson. He looked more like a landscaper than an artist, but he claimed to be both. “What do you think?”
“That would be stunning.” He nodded as if he could envision it.
“But how could we make it stay? We can’t damage the stucco with nails.”
“It won’t be a problem. we’ll use wire and suspend it from the eaves.” Jackson went to the chapel and showed her what he meant.
“Clever,” Darby said.
“We could also string a garland on the porch railing and tuck flickering electric candles in it.” Jackson took out his phone and pulled up pictures of other weddings he’d done.
“These are so gorgeous. I wish Sloane could see them.”
“I showed her a bunch of designs when she came by.” He scrolled to a photo. “This was her favorite.”
“Then it’s mine, too,” Darby said.
One of the Rabbits let out a wolf whistle and Darby looked up to see Maggie from Magnolia’s Bakery standing in the clearing, her arms folded.
“What’s she doing here?” Jackson whispered. A scowl settled on his forehead.
“She’s catering. Is that a problem?”
He blew out a snort.
“I’ve tasted her food,” Darby said. “It’s delicious.”
“I don’t have a problem with her food,” he conceded.
“Obviously, you have a problem with her. I just hope the two of you can get along on the day of my sister’s wedding. If not, tell me now and I’ll find a different florist.”
Jackson studied the toes of his boots. “It’ll be fine. We’re both grownups, even if only one of us acts like it.”
Darby thought about telling him that at the moment, he was definitely not the mature one, but she bit her tongue. Tomorrow, her sister would be married and Darby would never need to see Jackson the florist or Maggie the baker ever again.
#
The family arrived like a swarm of locusts.
“I thought just the wedding party was supposed to be here,” Cecelia stood at the window of Bern’s study looking out at people spilling out of cars, vans, and trucks.
“That’s what Darby said.” Chad couldn’t help himself, he started counting the men. The old ones looked harmless, but if they all ganged up on him…He shook himself. Darby had said he’d be fine as long as he didn’t touch her. But the thought of being near her and not being able to touch her made him crazy.
“Where’s Grandpa?” Cecelia asked.
“Hiding out in his bedroom,” Chad said.
“Seems like a good plan.”
“You like Darby, right?” he asked.
Cecelia faced him and gave him a warm smile. “Darby’s great.” She placed her hand on his arm to emphasize her words.
“Grandpa likes her, too. Dad said Elaine took it hard when she heard I broke things off with Jessica.”
“She’d been around a long time,” Cecelia’s tone implied the words, too long.
“You didn’t like Jessica?” Chad watched the melee on his grandfather’s lawn. Women, children, and men hugging each other. A couple of boys were tossing something back and forth, while a young girl ran between them, crying. What were they throwing? Could it be a cat?
“I liked Jessica if you liked Jessica,” Cecelia said carefully. “But did you really like Jessica? I mean, I’m sure you did in the beginning when you first started dating her, but that was so long ago,”
“You’re right. I did at one time.” Chad frowned at the cat flying through the air. It had to be stuffed, right? No one would throw a live cat around like that, would they? “But at the end, she was more like a habit.” He leaned against the desk and crossed his ankles. “Do you ever worry that maybe that’s the end result of all relationships?”
Outside, an adult rescued the flying cat and handed it to the little girl. She hugged it against her chest in such a way that Chad could tell it wasn’t a real animal. He felt relieved, but for just a moment. The little girl kicked one of the boys in the shin and Chad worried that he’d have to go out there and break up an uneven fist fight.
“What? You think all relationships grow stale and boring?” Cecelia asked, scooting her butt onto the desk to sit beside him.
“Maybe it’s like at one time you love pudding,” Chad said, “and you’re fine eating just pudding for breakfast, lunch, and dinner…but eventually, you want to try the steak.”
“Do you think Darby’s the steak?”
He didn’t respond. “I feel like I cheated on Jessica—even though I broke up with her before I ever…I’ve only kissed Darby, by the way.”
Cecelia tried to hide her smile as she nodded at the commotion on the lawn. “Do you really think you could ever get bored with all of that?” She patted his leg. “You’re not a cheater. Look how long you stayed with Jessica when you probably knew in your heart she wasn’t right for you!”
“But who’s to say if someone is or isn’t right? Maybe we have a responsibility to make it right. Maybe love stories have it all wrong—they tell the story backward.”
“I’m not following you,” Cecelia said.
“What if instead of finding the right person, you’re supposed to make yourself the right person? And then once you’ve found someone and decided on them, then you make it the right decision.”
“So, no Mr. or Mrs. Right?” Cecelia asked. “We create our own perfect matches?”
“Exactly.”
“You’re feeling guilty about leaving Jessica, aren’t you?”
His shoulders slumped. “I hate myself for wanting Darby so very badly. I feel like I’ve fallen too soon and too hard.”
“So, take it slower…and softer.” Cecelia bumped him with her shoulder. “But don’t let her get away.” She waved her hand at all the Elliot relatives milling on the front lawn. “Look at everything you’d be missing.”
#
“Darby!” Mom held out her arms for a quick hug. “This place is incredible!” She elbowed Dad. “Kenneth, isn’t this place spectacular? Tell Darby she’s amazing.”
“You’re amazing, pet,” Dad said, and he gave her a hug as well.
“So, are we finally going to meet your boyfriend with the posh accent?” Grandma Betty asked.
“Hmm, no. We broke up,” Darby said loud enough for anyone listening to hear.
“Oh no!” several of her aunts and cousins wailed.
“What happened?” Meg asked.
Darby shrugged. “Once we got to know each other, we discovered it just wasn’t right. Not a big deal. Just another practice relationship.”
“Did you scare him off?” Henley asked. “Guys don’t like it when you chase them.”
“I didn’t chase him off,” Darby told her sister. “He just wasn’t right. Let it go.”
&n
bsp; Sloane slid her a sly glance. “Maybe now you can warm things up with your client’s grandson.”
“Oh no, it’s bad business to mix up romance and bookkeeping,” Dad said.
Darby sighed. No matter how many times she told her dad she was a CPA, he always insisted on calling her a bookkeeper. “This is Sloane’s weekend,” she said, hoping to shift herself out of the spotlight. “Come on, everyone, I’ll show you the chapel. You’re going to love it.”
While they were walking, a giant white van with the words Peterson’s Party People stamped on its side in pink letters rumbled down the driveway.
“What’s this?” Grandma Betty wanted to know.
“It’s the tables and chairs,” Darby said. “We’ll set them up on the back lawn.”
“There’s a back lawn?” Meg asked. “Just how big is this place, anyway?”
“It’s big.” Darby stopped walking, realizing she’d need to tell the party people where to set up the tables and chairs. “Sloane, why don’t you take everyone to the chapel?”
Uncle Tim began to sing, “…going to the chapel of love.”
Some of the kids thought this was hilarious and they chimed in.
Darby shot a quick glance at the windows of the house, wondering if Chad, Cecelia, and Bern were inside watching the circus that was her family. The windows reflected the late afternoon sun, making it impossible to tell what or who was on the other side of the glass. She decided this was just as well.
Darby hung behind while the rest of her family trooped down the path leading to the chapel and cemetery. After giving instructions to the party rental delivery people, she spotted her mom standing in the shade of a large maple tree.
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you,” Mom said, rubbing Darby’s arm. “I’ve missed you. I’ve been so busy with the wedding that I haven’t been able to spend any time with just you.” She cocked her head and gazed into Darby’s face.
Darby looked away, unwilling to admit to her mom, or even herself, that she’d been avoiding her for this very reason. She didn’t want to talk—or even think—about how stupid she’d been.
“Oh, Mom,” she said in a broken voice. “I’m good. How are you? It’s crazy that Sloane’s getting married, right?”
“I know. She’s always been such a pistol and now she’s Blaine’s firearm.” Mom gently shook her head. “But I don’t want to talk about Sloane. My cup of Sloane has been overflowing for months. I want to talk about you. People ask me how you are, and I honestly don’t have an answer.”
“You want to know about Benji, don’t you?”
Mom wrapped her arm around Darby’s waist. “What happened? You were so in love. And now he’s Benji?”
Darby sagged against her mom. “He was always a Benji—I just didn’t know it. In fact, I didn’t really know him at all.” Darby looked at the men setting up the tables and chairs. “Come on, there’s a bench out on the patio. Let’s sit and talk.”
The sun slid towards the horizon and a small breeze kicked up, rattling the trees and shaking the leaves. Darby hoped the weather for Sloane’s wedding would be as the meteorologist had predicted, clear and sunny.
She led her mom to the stone patio that overlooked the pool and they settled next to each other on a lounge chair. “I thought that our months of daily emails and skype had shown me who he really was. I opened up my soul to him—and I thought he’d done the same.” Darby propped her elbows on her knees and stared out at the valley. “But he was just a tall dark and handsome hundred and eighty-pound mistake.” She couldn’t look at her mom.
“And is it over?” Mom pressed.
“Absolutely.”
“Sometimes those handsome lessons are the hardest to learn.”
Darby leaned her head on her mom’s shoulder.
“You’ve worked so hard on putting this wedding together,” Mom said.
“I’ve been happy to do it.”
“I know it’s good to have something meaningful to do when your heart is breaking.”
“Really, Mom, my heart’s not breaking for Benji.”
“No?”
“No.” Darby didn’t think she could tell her mom that one of the biggest reasons she’d been happy to throw herself into the wedding foray was because it gave her an excuse to spend time with Chad.
But her mom must have had an inkling, because she said, “It’s so nice of your client to let you use his property!”
“It is, isn’t it?” Darby pressed her lips together. Of course, she couldn’t tell her mom about the George’s financial situation, but she could say, “They’re actually considering making part of the ranch an event venue. This is a good trial run for them.”
“It definitely seems like a win-win situation.” Mom paused. “I know Sloane doesn’t always seem to appreciate everything everyone does for her.”
Raised voices sounded over the hill. Seconds later, Sloane stomped through the thicket of trees. “There you are! Where’s Aunt Joanie?”
Mom slowly stood. “I’m not sure. Why? Is there a problem?”
Sloane glanced over her shoulder at Doug storming behind her, his heavy footsteps ominous.
“The Rabbits can’t play their trash at my wedding!”
“Hey!” Doug shouted. “The Rabbits are the only cool thing happening at this wedding!” He shot Darby a quick glance. “Sorry, babe. The location is pretty wicked, but your sister is whacked.”
“I’ll whack you!” Sloane lunged at him.
Doug danced away, looking for once, light on his feet, shaking his head, and trying to fight a grin. “I’m telling you, Auntie Bee, she’s off her meds.” He made a little circle with his finger next to his ear.
“I haven’t been on meds for six years!” Sloane screamed.
“Then it’s probably time to renew the prescription,” Doug said.
“You two, stop,” Mom said. “Honestly, one would think you were siblings.”
“I want some Michael Buble or Colby Caillat,” Sloane said, “not Pink Floyd.”
“Hey, Another Brick in the Wall is our signature piece.” Doug pointed his sausage-like finger at her chest to emphasize his words. “We play it at every gig. EVERY GIG. Including this one. It’s what got us our contract with Atlantic Records.”
“But it’s not exactly a wedding song, is it?”
Mom grabbed Doug’s finger and shook it. “Sweetie, we’re all just bursting our buttons we’re so proud of you and your contract, but frankly,” she wrinkled her nose, “we’re all just a little tired of hearing about it. Yes, you’ve made it big. If you’re lucky, you’ll only get bigger and bigger.”
“She means your career, not your butt,” Sloane put in.
“But now that you’ve made the big time, don’t you think you could fly under the radar with this one?” Mom put on her you-don’t-want-to-disappoint-me-face.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Doug said.
“I mean, this wedding isn’t about showing off how fabulous you are,” Mom said. “It’s not about you at all. It’s about Sloane.”
“Everything is always about Sloane,” Doug muttered.
For once, Darby agreed with him.
Sloane let out a sob. “This is just awful! You’re awful!”
Doug placed his hand on his heart. “I’m awful? Have you ever even looked in the mirror? Oh yeah, what am I talking about? You pretty much live in front of a mirror.”
“Leave my career out of this!” Sloane’s face was beginning to crumple.
Just then another car pulled down the drive, diverting Darby’s attention. “Oh no,” she muttered when she recognized Chad’s father and stepmother sitting the front seat of the Rolls.
“What’s the matter?” Mom asked.
“I have to find Chad,” Darby said.
As she ran, she heard her mom and Doug ask, “Who’s Chad?”
#
Chad, who had been watching the Elliot’s rumble on the front lawn, felt sick when he saw his parents’ car
enter through the gate. He rushed outside, desperate to keep his parents away from Darby’s family. His dad parked in the driveway behind the Peterson’s Party People van.
“Dad!” Chad swallowed to catch his breath and tried to look casual. “What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” Bernie looked around. “This is my family home, although right now it looks like a circus. What is going on?”
“Darby’s sister is getting married here tomorrow.”
“What?” Bernie weaved through the cluster of cars and vans filling the drive and strode into the house. “Why would her sister want to be married here?”
Chad thought about telling him of the leaky pipe at the church in Shell Beach but after a look at his dad’s angry and mottled face decided that neither of them was in the mood for explanations.
“Where’s your grandfather?” Bernie’s leather loafers slapped the Mexican tiles as he strode into the house. “I should have known you would be taken in by a pretty face, but your grandfather should have had more sense.”
“Why are you so angry?” Chad asked, following his dad down the hall.
Bernie didn’t answer but pushed open the door to his father’s study. Bern wasn’t there. Bernie took one glance in the room before taking the stairs, but Chad didn’t follow. He found Cecelia in the kitchen making cookies.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“What do you think?” She scooped out a hunk of cookie dough and dropped it on a pan. “It’s pretty self-explanatory.”
Chad dipped his finger into the dough and stuck it in his mouth before Cecelia could slap him away.
“There are a ton of kids here,” she said. “Cookies might not be able to keep them all happy, but they never hurt.”
Chad settled onto a kitchen chair. “You’re sweet.”
“So are you. About Darby.”
He blew out a breath. “I have it bad for her.”
“I know.” Cecelia licked the rubber spatula. “Like I said, it’s sweet.”
“Dad’s here.”
“I heard.”
“Do you think he’s mad about the wedding,” Chad asked, “or the fact that we kept it from him?”
