Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
“No, but it’s after nine o’clock, and dinner’s been over for some time. I figured you must be locked up in a dark basement if you don’t know what time it is.”
A quick glance at the oven clock showed that she was right. How could it be nearly nine-thirty? I barked out a laugh and shook my head. “Sorry, I was just lost in thought. What’s up?”
The doorbell rang just as she spoke.
“I guess so. I’ve been ringing the bell for almost five minutes, and I was about to bust down your door to check on you. Ding dong, Vanessa.”
I hung up the phone and rushed to the front door and opened it smiling for a change. I was happy to have a visitor who wasn’t trying to sell me something or convert me to their religion. “Come in. Welcome to our—my—home.”
This was Maisie’s first visit. She stepped inside and took a look around, her mouth agape, taking in all the details I’d actually worked on in the front hall. I led her into the large living room space, and she finally said something more coherent that wow.
“Damn, great looking home, Vanessa. Modern and homey but with an upscale rustic look. Did you do this?”
I nodded, proud of the final product, even though I was less impressed with it as each day passed. “It was my attempt at making this our dream home, but I never realized how exhausting decorating could be.”
A look of sadness flashed in her big blue eyes. I wanted to stop her right there. I didn’t want pity. I was really damn tired of seeing pity in everyone’s eyes, so I rushed to change the subject. “What brings you by?”
“Oh, right! Duh.” One of her infectious laughs bubbled up that lifted my mood as she followed me into the kitchen.
“This is where I spend so much of my time lately,” I said, gesturing to a stool at the counter. “Should I open another bottle of wine?” I asked, grabbing two glasses from the cupboard without waiting for her answer.
“Need you ask?” she said, sliding onto a seat.
“I wanted to pick your brain about my wedding,” she said while I opened a chilled white wine I pulled from the fridge, “but I’ll totally understand if it’s too soon to talk about it.”
I smiled, appreciating her for caring and glad to see her happy news had erased all traces of pity. I poured two glasses of the Chablis, and we clicked for a quick toast.
“It’s all right,” I said. “Remembering isn’t the sad part. It’s the future we’ll never have that makes things difficult.”
Realizing my comment probably put a damper on her wedding plans, I flashed a sheepish grin. “Sorry. Ask away.”
Maisie made a frown and said, “I never even thought of it like that, Vanessa. If you ever want to talk about Lance, I’m a good listener, and I love a good romance.” She laughed and shook her head, silky black hair falling gently around her shoulders. “Basically I’m in the weeds when it comes to this wedding stuff. I know what I like, and Sadie said to choose what I wanted. But shouldn’t this be, I don’t know, elegant or sophisticated or something?”
I couldn’t help but laugh at her confusion, because I’d felt it too, at least, I did right after Lance proposed. “If you aspire to be elegant or sophisticated, sure, or if that’s what’s expected. Otherwise, I think you should have the exact wedding you want.”
Her shoulders relaxed, and Maisie groaned. “I was afraid that’s what you’d say. What was your wedding like?”
“Me?” I closed my eyes and laughed at the memory. “I thought it would be a sweet but romantic backyard wedding because Lance and are from the Midwest where we keep things simple.”
“And it wasn’t?” Maisie’s eyes were big as she hung onto my every word.
“Not at all. My parents never forgave us for living together before we got married, so they refused to have anything to do with it. Lance’s dad and stepmom had left to go on a cruise three days before our wedding, so there was that.”
“Ouch. That’s shitty,” she said in solidarity, and I smiled in appreciation.
“I was pretty bummed about it at first, but Lance only wanted to marry me. He bought me a cute little white dress at a thrift shop and sprung for a fancy rose bouquet. We got married at the courthouse, me in that dress that I loved and him in his dress uniform, and you know what? It was perfect.”
“Really?” I understood her skepticism because I’d had it too before I set foot in the waiting area of the county clerk’s office.
“Really. There were older couples with money who just wanted to be married without all the pomp and circumstance and at the other end of the spectrum, teenagers who were so in love and didn’t care about anything else. Some people were making the best with what they could afford, some dressed in jeans and t-shirts, and some in big old white wedding gowns. But they were all there because above all else, they wanted to be married.”