Chapter Thirty-Six

Jen

Tuesday

 

Dylan’s parents were arriving today at eleven and he was having a morning.

He was awake before me, yet somehow running behind getting ready. I’d watched him burn his hand with coffee, spill the powder for his protein shake (because there was no time to cook), and try on three different shirts.

“I can stay home and you can pick them up alone if that’s easier,” I said from a safe distance. He’d finally settled on a long-sleeve tee and sat to tie his sneakers.

“No. I’m not taking your car without you.”

“Okay. It’s just a drive from LAX to their hotel.” One his truck wasn’t suitable for.

He patted his pockets. “Where’d I leave my wallet?”

“Here.” I picked it up from the bathroom counter, the same place he left it every night.

“Thanks.”

I smoothed one side of his hair. “Why are you so rattled?”

He sighed, his shoulders dropping. “I don’t even know. I’ve never needed to impress my parents.” He pulled me in so our bodies were touching. “Can I start today over?”

I rose on my toes to give him a short kiss. “We don’t have a Time Turner. Come on, handsome, there’s bound to be traffic.” On December twenty-third? Yeah.

In my Honda, I let him change the music, hoping it would calm him.

There was no trick for getting in and out of LAX fast around a major holiday. You just had to get in line with all the other cars, find the right terminal, then be ready to slip into a hole to park long enough to drop someone off or pick them up. Dylan’s parents would have luggage, so we weren’t going to park and make them walk to one of the garages.

At least my CR-V was nimble for an SUV.

“There’s the Delta sign,” I said.

He put on the turn signal and hurried over.

“Do they have a phone to tell them we’re outside?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, waiting for the chance to reach the curb.

He finally pulled over.

“Switch places with me,” he said, and got out. I unbuckled my seatbelt.

Officials didn’t let you sit here long and definitely not with the engine off, so I hurried around to the driver’s seat while Dylan looked for his parents.

A shuttle honked at me. I rolled forward to take the place of a car that left.

If it was madness in Arrivals, I didn’t want to think about Departures. Good grief!

An officer looked my way and was about to tell me to circle around and come back when the back right passenger door opened. “Trunk?” Dylan said. I pressed the hatch release button.

Thank God.

The chaos of traffic and horns blaring was not my comfort zone. I got out to return to my seat. He knew how to get to their hotel, anyway. The hatch was secured, then he stepped back on the curb, his parents behind him. His dad was around the same height, but his mom was tiny.

“Mom, Dad, this is Jen. I suggest getting in on this side so the left door doesn’t get creamed.”

I waved, then got in while his mom slid behind the driver’s seat and his dad followed. “Do you have enough leg room, Mr. Smith?”

“It’s fine,” he said in a voice that said it wasn’t. I slid my seat forward.

Dylan watched for an opening to quickly get in the SUV and took it out of Park. Better him reentering the moving traffic lane than me.

“Watch it!” his mother yelled, making me jump.

“I got it, Mom.”

I don’t know what she freaked out over. He’d already merged.

“I told you we should’ve landed at Burbank,” she said to his dad.

“Burbank didn’t have any direct flights today, Mom,” Dylan replied. “How was first class?”

“Well, we got mimosas and pastries.”

“But a man took his shoes off,” Mr. Smith added.

“But the flight attendant made him put them back on.”

“You could still smell his socks. Who has smelly feet first thing in the morning?”

“But the airline was very nice. Not as nice as those private jets you fly on, of course.”

“Only during tours, Mom, so we get to venues on time.” Dylan crept the car along with the others, edging toward the exit lanes that would lead to the freeways.

He spoke in this calm monotone with them like he was almost bored. I’d never heard him like this before, and it was like I wasn’t here. But I could be patient.

“What’s this hotel like?” his mother asked next.

“Close to my friend’s house. It’s nice, Mom.”

“Could’ve saved the money if you had a guest room,” his dad said. “If you’re not going to live in the cabin, at least invest in a little house so you’re not throwing money away on rent.”

“Money I’d then have to spend on maintenance for the months I was out of town. How I live works for me.” Clearly not a new conversation.

“Except you’re getting married now, Dylan,” Mrs. Smith said. “You can’t expect a wife to be happy in a bachelor pad.”

I kept still in my seat, going along with them talking like I wasn’t here. No wonder he was anxious this morning.

“We’re not staying in my apartment.”

“Oh?” his mother said brightly. “You found a house?”

“What does it matter?” Dylan said a little louder. “You guys live in Florida. I’ve seen you, what, three times the past five years?”

Awkward silence, party of four.

The hotel was a newer Hyatt with a restaurant attached.

Dylan pulled up to the front door. A young man came over with a cart.

“The registration is in your name, Dad. They’ll take care of you.” He got out to help his mother out of the SUV.

The three of them hadn’t hugged this whole morning. I now saw what he meant by not being close with them, and my heart hurt for him.

He’d turned out amazing despite their aloofness.

When the driver door opened again, I asked, “You okay?”

He sat. “I should be asking you.” His eyes showed all the regret for the past hour.

I placed my hand on his. “It was awkward as hell, but they can only hurt me by hurting you.”

He kissed my knuckles. “You’re good for my ego.” Then he put the car in Drive.

“Are they always like that?”

“Liking to complain? Yeah. Most of the time, they don’t mean anything by it. Nitpicking is their hobby. But they’ve gotten more negative in retirement.”

“Maybe their friends are a bunch of cranky old people. Vibes rub off.”

“Maybe. Mom doesn’t tell me details about their life there. People get weird around weddings, right? Even my parents are bound to have opinions about me getting married.”

“I didn’t expect them to act like I was invisible, though.”

He glanced at me. “Yeah, I didn’t help that, sorry. I didn’t expect Dad to complain about staying at a hotel.”

“It’s okay. We’ll have another chance at the rehearsal dinner.”

“Oh, God, that’s tonight.”

I laughed. “They’ve been around the band, right?”

“Yeah, met everyone once in the beginning.” He shook his head. “They’ll behave in public. I’m not worried about being embarrassed tonight.”

“Hey.” I rubbed his shoulder. “As long as everyone smiles for the family photo, it’ll be okay. We’ll be on our honeymoon and they’ll be back in Florida. It’s only a couple days.”

His parents would fly home Friday.

We reached a red light, since we were taking surface streets back to his apartment.

“Dad bringing up housing didn’t hit a nerve, did it?” Dylan asked.

“No. We’ll figure out a temporary solution until Mom’s house is available. We have options.” I pulled a granola bar out of my purse.

He smiled for the first time since we left this morning. “Let’s get you a proper lunch.”

“Now you sound like Jake.”

The smile widened. “See? You’re right about rubbing off.”

Tonight was the last we’d spend together as unmarried people. After all the things we did for Christmas Eve tomorrow, I was staying in Beth’s guest room for tradition.

We had a leisurely lunch at one of our favorite places, then needed to spend the afternoon preparing for the days ahead. Which reminded me…

“You haven’t told me what to pack for the honeymoon.”

Dylan paused with a laundry basket in his arms. “Sure I did—as little as possible.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m serious. Warm weather? Cold weather? When are we leaving?”

He set the basket down and came to me. “Warm weather and after the party.”

My pulse quickened with proximity to him, like always. “Like swimsuit warm?”

He shrugged. “Depending on your definition.”

My eyes narrowed. “Is there actually a plan or are you just messing with me?”

He tucked my hair behind my ear, then his fingertips grazed my jaw. Such a tease. “Would I?”

I thumped his chest, which made him laugh. “Dylan.”

“Fine, I’ll tell you the first part—from Jake’s, a car will drive us down to a resort hotel for the night, then we’ll fly by private charter in the morning. Happy?”

“It’s something.”

“Look at that lip.” He kissed my pout until I couldn’t help smiling.

“One more question.” He sighed. “How long will we be gone?”

“Jen…”

“I need to know how much stuff to bring! Packing for three days or a week or a month are all different things!”

He returned to the laundry basket. “We’re coming back on the 2^nd.”

“Thank you,” I said to his back as he headed for the machines tucked in a closet on the balcony.

It would still bug me to not know where we were going, but at least I could prepare now, though not completely. He either wasn’t joking about the naked honeymoon, or this would be like a typical vacation. As hot as we still were for each other, if he took me somewhere new and beautiful, I’d want to see it—as much as pregnancy fatigue allowed.

Thank goodness I grabbed a variety of stuff from my house.

After taking care of food in the fridge that wouldn’t last a week, I started packing a size-appropriate suitcase. At least the private plane didn’t have the airline restrictions.

Wherever it could be, I was looking forward to the down time.

Whirlwind of a month.

Rehearsal was at six, then we were going to a nice restaurant.

I dressed in a white fine-knit sweater and a red knee-length skirt. Dylan adjusted the cuffs on his navy blue shirt. His gaze caught mine in the mirror.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“We don’t have time for me to show you how much, do we?”

Finishing my lipstick, I turned to face him. “No.”

“Damn.” His perusal heated my blood. “You’re a package I can’t wait to unwrap.”

I grinned. “Later, big boy.” And walked out of the bedroom to put on my coat.

“Promise?”

He hurried through his last details and joined me at the door. The suit with no tie thing was so sexy on him, especially with the beard. A man dressed up was hot, but when you roughened that up a little? Panty-melting.

Things I learned the past year…

My SUV was easier to get in and out of in this skirt and Dylan was behind the wheel again. He could drive to Jake and Beth’s blindfolded. I changed the radio back to Christmas music and settled in feeling really happy. We’d made it through all the challenges.

Some cars I didn’t recognize were already parked in the compound. We were meeting the minister for the first time tonight. Beth came out of the front house.

“Right on time!” She hugged me. “Ready?”

“Hey, Bethie.” Dylan kissed her cheek. “Thanks for all this.”

“My pleasure. Come on. See what we did.”

The first look at the barn decorated for the wedding. We followed her and butterflies fluttered inside me. I’d been anxious to see this since she asked me to trust her.

Beth opened the biggest door and light spilled out.

“Oh…” I whispered. Breath? Stolen.

“Remember, it’s not a hundred-percent complete. The fresh flowers come in Thursday.”

I shook my head, dismissing the warning, and blinked back tears. Dylan tucked me into his side, instinctively knowing I needed a moment to take it all in.

Jake held Alyson, letting her examine decorations without grabbing them. Mom and Shelley were glancing about in awe. Grandma had sat toward the front on the left side.

“Reverend Jacobs?” Beth said, snapping me out of my reverie. We stepped inside as she brought over a shorter than average black gentleman with salt-and-pepper hair. “This is the bride and groom.”

He smiled with one of the friendliest faces I’d ever seen. “Dylan and Jennifer, right?” We shook hands. “Mrs. Lindsey told me about your love story starting on Christmas Eve and I had to help. I’m a sucker for the season. Have you chosen what kind of ceremony reading you want?”

I glanced at Dylan, then replied, “Short and simple. We’re not fluff kind of people.”

He nodded. “Okay, then. As soon as the whole wedding party is here, we can get started. Oh, will you be saying your own vows?”

Shit. We hadn’t talked about it! How could we forget the vows?

“A few words, probably, but not tonight,” Dylan said. I whipped my head his way.

Reverend Jacobs rolled with it. “No problem. I’ll mention here is where you say them and roll on.”

We heard footsteps on the walk. Mike and Hannah. “Oh, wow, this is awesome, Beth,” he said.

“I only provided direction. Where is Bob? He’s always early.”

Jake came over, phone in hand. “I can answer that. He’s picking up our singer. Her car wouldn’t start.”

“Poor girl,” Hannah said. “Are we paying her enough to fix it?”

“How far out are they?” Beth asked.

“Ten minutes,” Jake replied. He slipped the phone back in his pocket. “Mum is giving Aly supper.”

“Vivian has been every bit the doting grandmother since she arrived yesterday,” Beth said to us. “I’ve hardly gotten to hold my child the past twenty-four hours.”

He kissed his wife’s cheek as he pulled her close. “She’s exaggerating.”

“Not much. Okay, do we want to run through this since most everyone’s here?”

“We can, but there’s no rush.”

“Except the dinner reservation is for eight o’clock,” Beth added.

Dylan checked his watch. “It’s only 6:10.”

Maria appeared in the doorway. “Can I offer anyone coffee? Cider?”

“How does she do that?” Hannah muttered. I smiled.

Maria was the hostess with the mostest and it gave her magical intuition.

Jake urged Beth along and that got the rest of us moving to the front house kitchen.

The great room had been transformed. A curtain of fine fabric hung from the ceiling to the floor in front of the island to shield the kitchen from view and make the space less like a home. The modern rustic dining table had been draped with a white cloth and the chairs removed, along with the sofa. Bar tables and stools were in its place, leaving room in the center for the dance floor. Each table had a small centerpiece of evergreen wrapped around a candleholder. The TV still hung above the mantel.

“Where’d the tree go?” Mike asked.

“Basement,” Jake replied. “Everything else is in the garage boxing in my Jag.”

“Like you were gonna drive it this week, anyway,” Beth said. “You’ve taken it out maybe once a month since we got married.”

“What kinda Jag?” Grandma asked. Jake grinned and offered to show her.

Mom sighed. “She’s gonna talk him out of it,” she told Beth.

Beth laughed. “She’s welcome! In all seriousness, I don’t have a problem with him owning a sports car, but it’s just collecting dust.”

“Because he wants a motorcycle again,” Dylan said.

Beth vehemently shook her head. “Not in L.A. Drivers are assholes. Sorry, Reverend.”

“No offense taken, dear. I’ve cursed and repented many times regarding these streets.”

We sipped at disposable hot cups until a honk sounded outside.

“That’s Bob’s truck,” Mike said.

Beth checked her watch. “Ten minutes. He wasn’t lying.”

He was helping Celeste down from the Ram when we got outside.

Michaela tugged her guitar out of the back of the four-door. “I’m so sorry! My stupid battery keeps losing its charge at the worst times.”

I went to her. “It’s okay. Life happens. We have plenty of time.”

She nodded gratefully and some of the frazzle left her face.

“Places, please, everyone,” Reverend Jacobs said.

A chair and a mic had been set up for Michaela in a front corner. She hurriedly took her guitar out of its case, checked the tune, then nodded that she was ready.

Dylan and the reverend were under the arch. Mike was his best man, with Jake and Bob standing next to him opposite Shelley, Beth, and Hannah. I took my place at the back of the room.

“Wait!” Shelley yelled, and dove into a row of seats. She ran to me, thrust a bouquet made out of ribbons in my hands, then hurried back to her spot. We chuckled.

Michaela launched into her version of Keith Urban’s Your Everything.

Without a chance to warm up her voice, she was only picking the guitar melody. I moved down the center of the barn toward the dais. The first time I did this, I was so nervous from all the eyes staring at me, but now, only Dylan was in my sight. When I reached the front, he offered his hand to help me step up on the makeshift stage.

Reverend Jacobs started the whole dearly beloved… routine and we ran through the steps of the ceremony, Beth imparting directions when required.

Our music to leave by was an instrumental recording of Deck the Halls.

“Everyone feel good about their parts?” Beth asked. “After the guests move to the house, photos will be taken of the bride and groom with each other and us and the whole family. Dylan and Jen, you’ll be the last to enter the reception so we get to cheer your big entrance.”

“And before the ceremony, we have the separate photo shoots,” Mom added. She shook her finger at Dylan, like Grandma used hers. “No peeking!”

“I’ll try my best,” he replied.

“Do we need to run through it one more time?” Beth asked.

Jake set his hands on her shoulders. “Love, we’ve all been to weddings before. They’ve got it.” She sighed.

Dylan and I shook hands with Reverend Jacobs again and he left.

“Michaela, do you want to come to dinner?” Beth asked. “There’s room.”

“I…okay.”