“Are you okay honey?” Mom asked, drawing me back out of my head. I turned to look at her. Her eyes were focused on the road, but she kept glancing at me with worry lining her face.
“Define okay,” I sighed, turning my head to look back out the window again.
“It wasn’t easy seeing him tonight, huh?”
“I don’t get it,” I seethed, my arms folding protectively across my chest. “Why can’t I just get over him?”
“He was your first love,” Mom answered, turning up our driveway. “First loves don’t die quick. Hell, I don’t think they ever really die. You carry the memories of it throughout your life.”
“I really hope that isn’t true,” I sighed, opening the car door and stepping out. “Otherwise this wedding is going to really suck for me.”
“Who knows.” Mom grinned at me as we walked up the front porch. “Maybe the reason why you can’t let go is because your story isn’t finished yet.”
I scoffed at her words, because there was no way in hell I was going to go down that road a second time. I’d sooner cut my heart clean out of my chest than give it to Braden Miller again. “Or, maybe he just screwed me up for everyone else. Kind of like what Dad did to you.” I said, voicing my deepest fear. Mom paused, my words hitting her where it hurt. “I didn’t mean it like that Mom.”
“Do you really think that, Elle?” Mom asked me, her brow furrowing. She unlocked the door, holding it open for me.
“What else am I supposed to think?” I responded with a question of my own as we walked into the house. I dropped my purse down on the bench by the door and turned to face her. “You never moved on after he left. I’ve never seen you date anybody, ever,” I added, my eyes never leaving her face.
“I didn’t have time to date when you were little,” Mom answered. She turned and started for the kitchen, flicking on the light as she went. “Tea?” She asked me. I nodded and she grabbed the kettle off the stove, filling it with water from the tap. She brought it back to the stove and flicked the gas burner on.
“Okay, I get that…but I’m all grown up now. You don’t have the excuse of being a full-time parent. Why don’t you get out into the dating pool again?” I pulled a chair out from the kitchen table and sat down, angling my body to face her.
“Oh honey, I’m too old for that,” Mom shook her head with a small smile as she leaned against the counter. “I’ve spent over two decades on my own. I like my life the way it is.”
“You never get lonely?” I pressed, thinking about how aloneIoften felt. I knew I should try dating again, but it was hard.
“Everybody gets lonely from time to time,” Mom shrugged. “I keep busy though, I’m not sure I’d want to rearrange my life and how I’ve been living it for someone else. Plus, pickings are slim in this town,” she winked.
“Online dating, Mom,” I told her.
She wrinkled her nose in response and shook her head.
* * *
“I’m really clueless about this whole wedding thing,” Tessa sighed a week later as she stared at the overwhelming pile of bridal magazines on our coffee table. “I mean, it says right here that you need at least ayearto plan a wedding.”
“That’s why we’re getting started right now,” I told her. “The most important thing is picking the day, which you’ve already done, I think?” I looked at her for clarification.
“July twenty-third,” she answered with a sad smile on her lips. I froze. July twenty-third was the day that Deanna Miller had died four years ago. “Brock wanted the twenty-third. He wanted to make something beautiful out of that day, because he knows it stings for his family. He also thought it would be a good way to honor her memory.”
“It is a good way to honor her memory,” I agreed. The words seemed to get stuck in my throat, so I cleared it and went back to my list. “Now, we’re working out the details. We need to send out save the dates, especially because it’s a summer wedding. People’s summer schedules fill up quickly, so we’ll want to pick dates for the other events too. Have you talked to Brock yet about doing a Stag and Doe?”
“He’s not into that,” Tessa made a face. “Besides, it says right there that getting people to crowdfund your wedding is cheap.”
“True,” I shrugged. “That’s one less thing we have to do then.” I crossed outStag and Doeon our to-do list and moved on to the third item. “Bachelor/bachelorette parties, yay or nay?”
“Obviously yay,” Tessa grinned. “I don’t care if I have to twist Brock’s arm to get him to have a bachelor’s party. You only get married once!”
I resisted the urge to make a smart comment about that—I was trying to keep my jaded, bitter feelings about relationships and love on the down low so that I wouldn’t ruin Tessa’s wedding bliss with my own shortcomings. The key was focusing on all the tasks on the wedding to-do list and treating it more like a party event. I was good at organizing parties; I’d thrown a lot of them in high school.
“I’ve reserved July ninth for the bachelorette party. The best manis going to have to figure out when to host the bachelor party, because that’s his job,” I said, purposely avoiding speaking Braden’s name out loud. I paused to take a sip of red wine.
“Or we could do a combined one, maybe like a camping trip or something,” Tessa suggested.
I nearly spat my wine out. “No combined party,” I said, glowering at her. “I’ve planned out your bachelorette party in my mind years ago and trust me, it doesnotinclude the guys. We’re doing a traditional night on the town in Toronto. I’ve already been in contact with Cheyenne.”
“Alright, alright! I’ll pass the message on,” Tessa picked her cell phone up and fired out a text. I didn’t bother asking her who she was sending it to, because I already knew.
