“Are we ever really ready?” she challenges.
“Probably not, but it’s been fifteen years of him being in and out of hospitals for treatment or surgeries. Now, they’re no longer trying, and he’s going to die.”
That’s what is killing me. The loss of hope.
“And how is your evil stepmother with it?”
I shrug. “Who knows? She called me three times, but I couldn’t answer.”
She flinches. “You’ll pay for that later.”
I know it. “She’ll call again. It’s like clockwork. Every hour until—” Like the demons alerted her my phone rings.
Devney’s eyes go wide, and I flash her my screen so she can see the ID. “No way.”
“I told you, Satan’s sister,” I say. “She’s something like Beetlejuice when you say her name, she appears.”
“Hey, Linda,” I answer with as much pep as I can. Lord knows if I’m not nice enough, my father will hear about it.
“Your father really doesn’t need to be making this trip to North Carolina.”
And so it begins.
“You approved it when we booked it, and he has been adamant I not cancel.”
“Yes, but it’s a great inconvenience to me. You don’t understand what it’s like to have to travel with him. He’s not a well man, Maren. We have a lot of appointments and things I have to shuffle about in order to make this . . . event . . . work.”
Event. I roll my eyes. “It’s a wedding.”
“I’m aware.”
She just doesn’t care. “I understand the inconvenience it is to you and the stress you must be under, but I offered to cancel, and he refused to even hear it.”
“Of course, he would refuse, but I’m just informing you of the difficulties we face. Had you done what I asked and come to Georgia and got married in the church here, your father wouldn’t be suffering. He’s dying, and instead of spending his last few weeks comfortable, you have him trekking up to North Carolina. Do you know what this does to me?”
The last thing in the world I want is for my father to suffer. I would give anything to keep that from happening. He never once complained about going to North Carolina. In fact, he told me to get married wherever I wanted and he’d move heaven and earth to be there. Oliver is atheist and I’m Catholic, so getting married in the church anywhere couldn’t happen. Besides, I wanted my dad to get out of that damn house for just a bit.
I stay silent, biting my tongue until the metallic taste of blood reminds me to ease up. She can only upset me if I let her, and so far, she hasn’t said anything outside of her normal repertoire of selfish and narcissistic talking points.
“Anyway,” she says, “I am packing things now, and I wanted to inform you that I’m going to wear a cream-colored dress because it’s all I have. I don’t have the time or inclination to find something else.”
She’s such a bitch.
“You’re going to wear cream?”
“Don’t worry, no one will care.”
Right. No one will care that she’s wearing the same color as the fucking bride.
Fifteen years of anger, frustration, and headaches from dealing with her bubble up. Fifteen years of listening to how I’m not good enough, I don’t do enough, or visit enough, and how it’s all on her. She seems to have forgotten that she chose to move my father from Virginia Beach. Had they stayed here, she could have had an army of family surrounding him, caring, helping, and loving him. No, she is the perfect martyr.
Well, I’m not. I’m over her nonsense too. “That’s fine, I’m thinking of wearing black instead of white,” I toss back, knowing it’ll upset her delicate Southern heart.
“What?” She practically screeches. “You can’t wear black to a wedding! It’s not done. It’s not allowed!”
I sigh, a smile playing on my lips. “I’d love to talk more, but I have to go. Lots to do before the big day. Can’t wait to see Daddy . . . and you . . . in three days.”
“Maren, I’m not done speaking with you.”
“Sorry, I’ll call tomorrow to talk to him. Give him my love,” I say and then flip my phone to airplane mode. My new goal is to make a plan that will piss Satan’s sister off without ruining the wedding or upsetting my dad.
“She’s a peach,” Devney says after a few seconds.
“A Georgia one,” I say with disdain. “Ugh! I hate her. She’s going to find a way to ruin this.”
Devney sighs. “Look, my mother is . . . difficult too. I get it. Remember that this is for you, Oliver, and your dad. That’s why you threw together a wedding in less than a month.”
I lean against the hood of the car, grateful my best friend is here. “I’m crazy.”
“We know this.”
“But there’s nothing I won’t do for my dad.”
Devney looks at me, pursing her lips. “You know, I get it. I do. But, like, aren’t you excited to marry your man who no one has met yet?”
“I am,” I say quickly. “Oliver is a nice guy. He’s smart and really good at his job.”
“Definitely marriage material,” she says.
“Shut up!”
We both laugh and then get in the car. “I just hear you talk a lot about your dad and the wedding, but I want to make sure you’re doing this for the right reasons, that’s all.”
I sigh, gripping the wheel. I don’t know exactly how I feel. I like him. I mean, we’ve had fun the last few months, and when he asked me, I wanted to say yes.
At least fifty-two percent of me did, which meant I should because of the two percent tipping point.
So, yeah, when asked I said yes.
Now that we’re coming up on the big day there’s no way I’m going to second-guess myself.
“I think I could really love Oliver. He’s so nice and caring. I mean, we don’t know each other all that well and everything has moved at lightning speed, but that’s sort of my life.”
“Is it? You? The careful planner who doesn’t do anything without a million outcomes mapped out. Please, I’m not buying that. You still can’t say you love him and can’t wait to spend the rest of your life with this man. Your glowing accolade is that he’s nice.”
She’s not wrong, which is frustrating, but she isn’t completely right either. Oliver and I really do like each other. So, considering that I don’t know what love is anyway, maybe this is it. I know I want to be with him. I know that he makes me smile—when he’s home. I am really good at being his analyst when he’s on missions, and that’s a very special chemistry.
When he’s out and can’t see, I’m his eyes. I work hard to make sure he and the team are always safe and up to date on whatever information I have. That is a trust like no other. If we are able to rely on each other in critical situations, then surely, we’ll be able to do that in our marriage.
“Not all of us have these grand feelings like you and Sean.”
Devney’s lips purse. “That’s how it should be, Maren. Your dad being there is important, of course, but the wedding is about you and Oliver.”
“It is about us.”