An (Almost) Perfect Love Story (Love Story Book Three) Page 8

  “This is about Daddy, okay? You should have seen him. He cried, Ally. He actually cried in front of me.”

  She swore softly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’re the only one there and you have to deal with this. Do you think he’s okay?”

  “He says he is, but who knows. It would be nice if you called him.”

  “I will,” she promised. This time, neither of us spoke for a moment. I was still annoyed by her implication that Mom was brave for leaving him. I had no idea what she was thinking now.

  “So,” she finally said. “You said there was good news too…”

  “Oh, yeah.” I looked at my ring, remembering how Chris had suggested I share this news via video-chat. It seemed pointless to go to the trouble now. The thought made me feel sad.

  “Well, something exciting happened last weekend,” I said, forcing my voice to sound bright. “Chris proposed.”

  Allison gasped. “He did?”

  “He did. I said yes, by the way.”

  My normally cool and reserved sister started screaming on the other end of the phone, surprising me. I found myself laughing, probably for the first time since last Tuesday. “Are you happy for me?”

  “I’m so happy!” she cried. “Oh my God, Ashley, this is frickin’ awesome!”

  Overwhelmed by her unexpected response, I felt like I might cry. I looked up to find Chris standing in the doorway, grinning at me. I grinned back, feeling better than I had in days.

  “You know what, Al? It is pretty frickin’ awesome.”

  Chapter Nine

  Chris and I went to see my dad the next day. We stopped for carryout on the way, bringing him his favorite meal, fried chicken and broasted potatoes from Chicken Shack, a local carryout place best known for the copious amount of butter they used in their potatoes. My mother rarely allowed it in the house, complaining that it was too hard on her waistline. I figured if nothing else, my dad deserved to eat whatever he wanted now.

  I was happy to see that the house was in much better shape than it had been in before. My dad appeared to be making a practice of picking up after himself and doing his dishes. The place wasn’t quite so spotless as it would have been with Mom around, but at least I didn’t have to worry about him living in squalor.

  The house might look marginally better, but my father, on the other hand, looked worse than ever. He had clearly lost weight, and his face still had that grey, waxy quality. I wondered if he was sleeping. When he hugged me, my worry shifted. How much was he drinking? It wasn’t over the top, but a slight smell of brandy seemed to cling to him.

  Once we were seated around the kitchen table, Chris took my hand. “Mr. Phillips, we have some really good news.” I ducked my head, feeling uncomfortable. Chris had insisted that we tell my dad about the engagement tonight. I felt like it would be throwing my own happiness in his face when his own marriage was in shambles, but Chris wouldn’t back down. As he pointed out, it wasn’t right that my mother knew when Daddy didn’t.

  Chris paused. He squeezed my hand, and I realized he was waiting until I looked up. I did so, and smiled at the sight of the look on his face. He was grinning widely, as if he couldn’t wait to tell my dad. “We have nothing to hide, Ash,” he had told me on the way over. “And your dad deserves the chance to be happy about this.”

  I took a deep breath and turned to my dad, now smiling myself. He was looking between Chris and me, expectantly. Though Chris had offered to be the one to break the news, I realized that I wanted to do it.

  “Daddy, Chris and I got engaged.”

  His mouth dropped open. I was scared for a moment that we had shocked him. I held out my hand so he could see the ring. “Isn’t it great, Dad? I’m so happy.”

  His face crumpled suddenly, and he was crying. I looked at Chris, panicking, and my dad covered his face with his hands.

  “What’s wrong?” I cried, but he was already reaching for me across the table, pulling me into a hug. “My baby,” he mumbled into my hair. “You’re all grown up!”

  I looked at Chris over Dad’s shoulder, completely at a loss. Chris’s eyes were wide, watching me. “Isn’t it great, Daddy?” I tried again, hoping his tears were of the happy variety.

  “It’s wonderful,” he said, releasing me. He wiped his face and stood, holding out a hand to shake Chris’s. “We need a toast,” he said, moving to the cabinets. “Champagne, I think. Now, where does your mother keep…” his voice trailed off. As I stared at his back, I realized that his shoulders were shaking. He was crying again.

  “Daddy?”

  “She should be here,” he cried, turning to me, his face alight with anger for the first time since he’d told us about her leaving. “She should be here with us to celebrate this!”

  “It’s okay, Dad—”

  “No, it damn well is not!” He slapped his hands down on the counter, hard, making me jump. My dad never raised his voice. I didn’t think he even knew how. I felt helpless. I wanted him to be happy for me, but how could I expect him to, with everything that was happening? He was right, my mother should be here. For him and for me.

  “Let’s forget about that for now,” Chris said, standing. “Let’s just have our toast and focus on the good news, okay.”

  “You’re right, you’re right,” my dad said, rubbing his face again. “I’m sorry, Ash. I just…” he let out a shaky sigh and returned to the table, collapsing into his seat. For the second time, I wondered how much he was drinking.

  Chris managed to find some sparkling wine in the pantry, probably left over from my parents’ annual New Year’s party. It wasn’t chilled, but I could hardly care about that now. I plastered a huge fake smile on my face as Chris toasted to us. My father should have given the toast, but he clearly didn’t have it in him.

  Despite Chris’s best efforts, conversation was stilted as we ate. My dad kept lapsing into long silences, staring at his food as if he’d forgotten what it was there for. I heard myself babbling about inconsequential things, not wanting to bring up my mother or the engagement.

  Though I managed to keep the smile on my face for the rest of the night, I felt hollow and scared. How on earth was I supposed to plan a wedding, the happiest day of my life, when my family was so completely messed up?

  * * *

  “When do we get to go wedding dress shopping?” Ryan asked eagerly as we divvied up the food from the Chinese takeout containers. He had come over to eat dinner with Emily and me before Dancing With the Stars started. It was one of our favorite shows; Emily made fun of it, but I knew she secretly liked it.

  “I don’t know,” I said, trying not to sigh. “We should probably figure out what kind of wedding we’re having first, right?”

  “I guess,” he said. “Diet Coke, Emily? Ash?” We both nodded and he opened the fridge and pulled out three drinks.

  “We could always just go look,” Emily said, grabbing her plate and heading out to the living room, Ryan and me behind her. “I mean, you don’t have to pick anything yet, but what’s the harm in trying on a few?”

  “I knew it!” Ryan cried, setting our Cokes on the coffee table and sinking onto the couch, his plate on his knees. “I knew you were gonna catch the wedding bug!”

  Emily looked sheepish. “What can I say, the idea of Ashley in a wedding dress makes my inner girly girl get all fluttery.”

  I forced myself to laugh. The truth was, I was dreading anything to do with the wedding. I was trying desperately to keep that fact from Chris. He had gone to so much trouble to give me the proposal of my dreams; it felt rude and ungrateful to be so down about the whole thing.

  But it was hard to be excited when I knew my dad was so distraught. And when my mother kept calling me and sending me emails regarding wedding details. I should have known that a little matter like her leaving my father wouldn’t stop her from throwing the social event of her life. Part of me wanted to throw myself into the wedding plans with her so I could pretend things were the same between us, that our family
wasn’t in the process of being broken up. The other part of me wanted to throw things at her every time she made contact with me.

  “You okay?” Ryan asked, looking up at me. I realized I was still standing there, holding my food in my hands. “You gonna sit down, or what?”

  “Sorry,” I said, joining him on the couch. “I guess the thought of wedding dresses is so exciting it has me incapacitated.”

  He laughed, but I wasn’t sure if he bought it. He kept shooting me concerned glances as we dug into our food.

  “We don’t have to tell your mom about it,” he said eventually, his voice too casual. “If we go look at dresses, I mean. We could make it just the three of us.”

  I looked up at him, feeling grateful that he had understood, and more grateful that he’d been delicate about it. “That sounds great,” I said, relieved. “Let’s do that.”

  “Yay!” Emily said. “This will be so much fun.”

  I looked down at my plate. “On second thought, maybe I shouldn’t agree to this until I can lose a little weight. This Chinese food is so not helping the waistline.”

  Ryan gave me an incredulous look. “Give me a break, you’re adorable.”

  “I don’t want to be adorable,” I complained. “Not on my wedding day. I want to be beautiful and sexy. I’m tired of being short and soft.” I dug a finger into my arm to demonstrate my complete lack of muscle. “I doubt they make wedding dresses to flatter flabby arms.”

  “Well, we can’t do much about the short thing,” Ryan pointed out. “But if you want to get more toned, we could join a bridal boot camp.”

  “A what?” Emily asked, raising her eyebrows.

  “A bridal boot camp. They have them at the gym. You know, to help women get all toned up so they can wear strapless dresses and stuff.”

  “You don’t need to lose any weight,” Emily said firmly.

  “I never said she did,” Ryan said, sounding hurt. “But she said she was worried about her arms. What’s wrong with exercising a little?”

  “Boot camp hardly sounds like a little exercise,” she shot back, but I held up my hand.

  “Actually, Ry, that sounds kind of cool. I really do want to get into better shape for the wedding.” And maybe spending some time getting my aggression out at the gym would distract me from all the family drama in my life right now, I thought to myself.

  “Great!” Ryan sounded pleased. “We can go sign up any time you want.”

  “You’re doing this too?” Emily asked. “You’re joining a bridal boot camp?”

  “For your info, Miss Judgey, lots of members of the bridal party participate.”

  “I’m glad you’re doing it, Ryan,” I said, wanting to cut them off before they started arguing. “God knows it will make it easier for me to go if you’re there.”

  He grinned at me. “You might regret that, you know. When you want to stay home all cozy in your pjs, I’m gonna be dragging you out into the cold to work out.”

  I laughed. “That’s probably the only way I’ll actually do it.”

  My cell phone rang from somewhere in the kitchen. I set my food down reluctantly and stood, pointing at Ryan as he made a move to grab one of my dumplings. “Don’t even think about it, buddy.”

  I found my phone on the kitchen table and answered just before it went to voice mail. “Hello?”

  “Ashley, dear, it’s Mom.”

  I closed my eyes. Just when I was starting to have a good time. “Hello, Mom.”

  “Listen, sweetie, I know it’s late, but I just had the most wonderful idea. You remember Carla Washington, don’t you? From the Ladies Auxiliary?”

  “Um, I think so?”

  “You do, Ashley, her daughter went to school with you. Heidi? She was in marching band, remember? Anyhow, I just remembered that when Heidi got married, her mother hired the planning out to a very good little firm. They do a wonderful job, it was such a lovely wedding.”

  “Mother,” I said, a warning note in my voice. I had a feeling that I knew where she was going with this.

  “Just listen, Ashley. Planning a wedding is a huge amount of work. I know how busy you and Chris are. And these people can bring such a nice touch to it, you know? They have ideas we would never consider.”

  “I can’t afford a wedding planner, Mom.”

  “Your father will pay for it, dear,” she said, sounding unconcerned. Her tone made the rage come flashing back through me. So she could just spend his money, huh?

  “Just talk with them, darling, that’s all I’m saying. I’ve arranged for us to meet them for coffee next Thursday when you’re out of school. If you don’t like what they have to say, we’ll drop it.”

  “Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. I knew there was no point arguing with her. If I told her I didn’t want to do it, she would just keep bugging me until I agreed. It was what she always did, one of the many reasons that she always seemed to get her way. My mother was nothing if not tenacious.

  After she gave me the name of the firm, we said good night. I turned off my phone and leaned against the counter, wishing I hadn’t answered. The thought of sitting with my mother in front of these strangers and pretending that everything was happy in our family was not something I was looking forward to. I sighed again and walked back to the living room.

  “Who was that?” Emily asked, catching sight of my face.

  “My mother,” I said, plopping back down in my seat. I left my food where it was, my appetite subdued by my anger. “She wants to hire a wedding planner.”

  Ryan whistled. “Wow. That sounds pretty intense.”

  “You’re telling me,” I muttered. “I can hardly wait to tell Chris.”

  Emily winced. “Sorry, babe. Did you try to tell her no?”

  I glared at her. “Of course I did. But that doesn’t mean she listened to me. Now I have to go meet these people next Thursday.”

  “What firm is it?” Ryan asked. His company hosted a lot of swanky events that were handled out of house.

  “Some firm in Birmingham,” I muttered. “Ever After Events they’re called, or something like that.”

  “We’ve worked with them,” Ryan said. “They’re really good, Ash. You would like them.”

  “It doesn’t really matter,” I said, feeling frustrated that they weren’t getting it. “I don’t want her hiring a wedding planner. I don’t want her offering me my dad’s money. I don’t want…I don’t want her doing anything!”

  My voice had risen practically to a shout, the temper I’d been trying to quash for days suddenly breaking free. I took a deep breath and looked around at them, smiling sheepishly. They both looked worried. “Sorry,” I muttered.

  Ryan took my hand. “You don’t have to be sorry,” he said. “We know that you’re mad at her, Ash. You have every right to be.”

  I wiped at my eyes, feeling like I might start crying any minute. “I just wish…I don’t know. I just wish I could pretend she doesn’t exist for a little while, you know?”

  “You just need to take your mind off things,” he said knowingly. “I think boot camp will help—exercise always does. And Emily and I will start helping you with wedding stuff, without your mom. That should keep you occupied.”

  I smiled weakly. Maybe he had a point. Maybe the best thing to do would be to throw myself into this wedding full throttle. Then I wouldn’t have time to worry about my mom at all.

  Chapter Ten

  “I cannot believe I let you talk me into this,” I said to Ryan, bending over and resting my hands on my knees while I tried to catch my breath.

  “Sissy,” he shot back, grinning at me. It was just my luck, going through something like this with Ryan, who looked amazing as ever in his perfectly coordinated black workout gear which I was pretty sure was genuine Armani. Even the sweat on his face looked good. He could have been a model for some expensive running shoes. I, on the other hand, probably looked like a drenched, panting hippo. I had naively come to the gym in my rattiest clothes,
not realizing this place practically had a dress code. And after twenty minutes of our first boot camp session, I had already sweated through my old pink T-shirt.

  “Seriously,” I said, straightening up so I could wipe the sweat from my face. “Are we almost done?”

  Ryan just laughed.

  “How you guys doing?”

  I spun around to see our instructor, Tate, walking up behind us, a big grin on his face. He, too, looked barely winded, though he had been going through with the exercises right along with us. “You guys about done with your water break?”

  “Sure,” Ryan said, grinning right back. I’m pretty sure I whimpered out loud but Tate mercifully didn’t comment. “He is so not bad,” Ryan muttered, watching him walk away.

  “I would agree with you if I had any capacity to think right now.”

  Ryan took my hand, laughing, and led me over to the stationary bikes, where the rest of the class was now assembling. “You’re doing great for your first time, Ash. Seriously.”

  “I don’t feel great,” I said, climbing up onto my bike.

  “We’re going to start with a gentle warm-up,” Tate called from the front of the room. “Get your cardiovascular systems going.”

  I started to pedal at what I thought was a gentle rate. I looked over at Ryan, feeling dizzy from the speed of his feet on the pedals. “Crap, Ry, is that what you call a warm up?”

  “I’ve been taking all those spin classes, remember?” he said, his breathing completely normal, like we were lounging at home on the couch. That thought was so appealing I could have cried. I tried to focus on Ryan instead.

  “Oh, yeah. How’s the hottie vegan doing?”

  Ryan’s face fell. “Haven’t seen him in a while. I was hoping he’d be teaching this boot camp, actually…”

  I, for one, was happy that he wasn’t. Ryan might have a thing for him, but he didn’t sound like the nicest guy to me. “Well, maybe this is a sign,” I said. “Why don’t you forget about him and focus on someone else? You were right about Tate, he is pretty darn cute.”

  It was true. Our instructor was tall and totally built, his shoulders almost frighteningly broad. He had longish, jet-black hair, which he kept tied back. He had the most beautiful, smooth, caramel-colored skin that I’d ever seen, and his eyes were that gorgeous chocolaty brown color. And even though he’d been kicking my ass from the moment I met him, he seemed pretty nice.