“You get him for the rest of your life, so tonight he’s ours!” Brian told me earlier today, laughing and throwing his arm around Cody’s neck. He’s Cody’s best man at the wedding. I don’t think he likes me a lot. He keeps looking at me a certain way, as if he doesn’t trust me and is just waiting for me to hurtCody. I don’t ever plan to, but I don’t think he’d believe me if I told him that.
Now, with Cody away, my mom is staying with me so she doesn’t have to get a hotel, and so I don’t have to be alone the night before my wedding. But as we enter the evening, talking through tomorrow’s itinerary—in French—I’m starting to think I’d rather be alone.
“So, I’m meeting Cody at the venue tomorrow. We have from ten until twelveo’clock to get ready while the photographer takes pictures of the venue, rings, invitations, things like that.”
My mom nods. “And of the cake?”
I cringe internally. Without knowing it, my mother hit a sore spot. “Maybe, probably, I don’t know.. . Cody’s taking care of the cake, and he’s being very mysterious about it.”
She frowns at that. “Mysterious? My dear boy, are you telling me you haven’t seen or tasted your own wedding cake?!”
“Oui. . .”
“And you’re alright with that?”
I shrug, unwilling to get into it with her. “I guess I’ll know tomorrow.”
“You’re a cake baker! And not only that, but you’re also the son of a cake baker. If anything, your opinion matters most of all.”
“Yes, well, speaking of Dad... I invited him, so if he’s there tomorrow, I expect you to be nice to him.”
She looks unhappy with that, and I know I’m in for more trouble. “What do you mean by if? He hasn’t responded to your invitation?”
“No, but he probably just forgot to let me know. He’ll be there and—”
My mom waves it off. “He’s not going to show.”
I hate how she says it, like that’s a good thing, as if I’m supposed to be relieved about it. But she seems to be forgettingthat he’s my dad. He and I may have our issues, but he’s been there throughout all my life, and this is another milestone I want him to be a part of. Deep down, I may even want his blessing.
“But what if he is?” I ask her, already picturing my parents arguing from opposite sides of the venue, with me trying to get married in between. “I invited him. I want him to come.”
She throws me a look of disappointment. “More so than your own mother?”
I frown at her and blink slowly, annoyance building inside me. “I’m going to give you a chance to remember who I lived with after your divorce and whose company I worked at. Maybe then you’ll want to reconsider that question.”
She makes a sound of disbelief and stares at me for several seconds before admitting defeat. “Okay, fine, but he’s not here now, is he? He’s not keeping you company while your fiancé’s spending time with his family. If it were up to your father, you’d be alone now.”
I have to admit she has a point there. My dad hasn’t asked a single question about the wedding; all I have is a thumbs-up icon in response to the last message I sent him. Whereas my mom is here, like she just said. Not that I’m entirely happy about that. Perhaps it would be better if I were alone, or if I could just spend the night with Cody, but then... I do like the tradition of the wedding couple spending the night apart before the wedding. And this way, we’re both with our families. He’s probably having a much better time than me, though.
I sigh. “That’s probably true.”
My mother gives me a sympathetic smile, then decides to let it go. “Tell me what the rest of the day looks like.”
I nod, happy with the change of topic, and tell her about the full itinerary. At nine thirty, my mom will drive us to the venue. I’m thrilled about what we landed on: a beautiful renovated farmwith sunflower fields and a small lavender patch just outside Besançon.
Once Cody and I are ready, we’ll have from noon until two for photos—just the two of us, as well as with our families—captured both inside the farmhouse and out in the flower fields. Then, between two thirty and three p.m. the guests will arrive, and at three o’clock the ceremony will take place outside, if the weather holds, with Cody and me exchanging vows beneath an arch of greens and sunflowers. It will be a short ceremony, just twenty minutes, then it’s drinks, some more pictures, and eventually dinner at five inside one of the barns. At seven, and this is the tricky part, the wedding cake should be wheeled out. Cody and I will slice it, and it’ll be served as dessert. But that is if everything goes well... hopefully.
Afterward, there’ll be dancing, drinking, and more pictures taken of Cody and me at night underneath the stars. The festivities end at midnight, and the guests will leave at that time, leaving Cody and me to our wedding night. It all sounds great to me, but that’s only if everything goes to plan and if Cody delivers on his promises about the wedding cake.
“That sounds lovely,” my mom says when I’m done telling her about the plans. “Well done, sweetheart. And to make things even better, starting tomorrow, at least half of what he owns is yours,” my mom says, raising her glass to me and smiling devilishly.
I roll my eyes. Of course she would go there; it’s so typically my mother. After I described my dream wedding to her, she immediately thinks about money. Perhaps I should have guessed that she would bring this up eventually, and I know I’ll have to let her down. Well, here we go, I suppose.
“It’s not,” I tell her. “Cody and I have a prenup; it was signed a few weeks ago at a notary’s office.”
At first, it’s like she didn’t even hear me. She only stares at me and blinks. But then, a couple of seconds later, her mouth falls open, and she almost drops the glass of red wine I poured her. Luckily, it stays in her grasp, or it’d leave stains that would surely cost Cody and me our deposit.
“A prenup?!” she exclaims loudly enough for the neighbors to hear. Then her gaze turns sympathetic, almost pitiful. “Oh, you poor thing.”
