“Sugar’s not home right now, please leave a message after the beep.”
He chuckles, then lifts me up and sets me down on the couch.
Chapter Thirty
Suds
About a week after the whole Dubai fiasco, I sit, playing string with Cat while Sam works on the computer.
This is probably as good a time as any. “I thought we could take a drive up north today, see some green grass, trees, and breathe fresh air…”
“What for?” She lifts her wary eyes to mine and I chuckle.
“City girl, why not? We can maybe take a hike or jump in a stream.”
“Hike? Stream? Are you serious?”
“Put the keyboard down and discover the great outdoors.” Standing, I walk behind her, and place my hand over hers. “It’s easy. Hover your mouse over start, click power, and that little circle? It means shut down.”
“Nu-uh. I have a special Windows version. It doesn’t have an off feature.” She grins and giggles as I tickle to prove her wrong.
When she says uncle, I ask again. “Take a drive with me? Please?”
“Sure, what do I need? Bug spray? Protein bars? Water? Knapsack. Tent?”
I chuckle. “I got everything. All you have to do is put on some jeans, a t-shirt, and a hoodie.”
“Underwear?”
“Entirely optional.”
I wonder what she’s gonna say at the chapel. Long ago she agreed to a simple ceremony. Sure, we’re planning for the huge Italian affair next year, but after the pee-stick in the garbage, I don’t want any chance of a bun in the oven and us not hitched. If that makes me a little old-fashioned, so be it.
After consulting with her cousin Mia, the resident holy roller, I got it all planned out. I’ve invited them two on her side. Lucky and Slate will stand for me.
The dress I had made laces up the back, and hangs like a handkerchief below her knees. The girls assured me it would fit and she’ll love it.
I’m not sure about no shoes, no makeup, and no nothing other than pure sugar. I won’t mind if she doesn’t want pictures. It’s not about superficial shit.
She gets her wedding and I get mine. Hoping she won’t be too mad, I stop in front of the church.
“Hiking? Here?”
I jump out, open the door, and pull her into my arms. “Remember how I told you I pictured our marriage?”
“Barefoot, wildflowers, somewhere in the country.” A smile spreads across her face, then turns to a frown as her eyes drift down her outfit.
“I didn’t bring a dress. Surely, you don’t want me to get married in this?”
Opening the trunk, I hold up the garment bag.
She tries to unzip it but I slap her hand away. “Nope. No peeking.”
Hand in hand, we walk toward the church, stopping once in a while so I can pick daisies and other posies.
Once inside, Rose and Mia squeal and hug Sam. I understand they picked out city girl versions of what I had in mind.
“Go find something to do.” Sam’s oldest cousin shoos me away.
