Toss the Bouquet (33 page)

“Tell me about it.”

“I told him just what you said, that I've been scared of
losing him if I dared to disagree with his mother, especially about any of her ideas for the wedding. He promised me it's not going to happen, no matter what. He even said we could get married at the justice of the peace if I wanted.” She giggled and then took another nibble of her cookie.

“The justice of the peace?” Grandma Nellie's voice boomed from the living room. “Over my chubby dead body!”

I shuddered. “Please tell me that's not an option. Mama would have a meltdown.”

“No, of course not. But I got his point. He wants me to be happy. And you know what? I am.”

“So what did you decide?”

“I'm going to go through with the plans as they are. I've settled the issue in my heart. I'm not going to do it to please Phillip—or his parents—anymore. I'm going to do it because it's going to be the easiest for everyone involved at this point. The work is mostly done.” She dropped the cookie and grabbed my hands. “And you, Mari, don't need any more on your plate. You and Derrick have already worked so hard to make everything amazing for us. Why would I do that to you? Or to Mom and Dad?”

“So everything moves forward as planned.”

“Yes.” She smiled. “And just for the record, my wedding bouquet will be loaded with very clichéd white roses.”

“Amen!” I laughed. “Perfect.”

“Exactly. Everything will be.” Crystal sighed. “I feel good about the whole thing now. In fact, I don't know when I've ever felt better. Talking to Phillip made me feel like I'd lost twenty pounds.” She took another bite of the cookie and spoke with a full mouth. “After all the sweets I've
consumed, I need to lose twenty pounds.” She chased down the cookie with a swig of milk from my glass. “I should start exercising.”

“My favorite exercise is a combination of a lunge and a crunch.” I took a little nibble of a cookie. “It's called lunch.”

She laughed so hard I thought she might choke. “You're perfect just the way you are, Mari.”

“Puh-leeze.” I laughed. “You're the one who's perfect, even if you do steal my food like you did when we were little.”

“Was I ever little?” She rubbed her tummy and grinned. “And trust me, I'm far from perfect. Though Phillip did say the same thing.”

“He's right.”

“Oh, he also said something else.” Crystal quirked an eyebrow. “He said Derrick told him all about your cookie-baking date.”

“Oh?” I tried to act nonchalant. “What did he say?”

“That his mom adores you. And that it was the best four hours he'd ever spent in a kitchen.”

“Ha.” I giggled. “Well, maybe he's had some bad experiences in a kitchen.”

“No, there's more to it than that. He really likes you, Mari. Phillip heard all about it.”

I felt the corners of my lips curl up in a smile. No one could blame me, after all. “I really like him, too, Crystal. He's a great guy. Such a big heart.”

“Big enough to include a petite little thing like you.” She gave me a wink. “Even if you are at the end of the bridesmaid line.”

“He'll have to travel farther to get to me.”

“Pretty sure he's willing to make the journey, at least from what I gather.” She shook her head, and I noticed a bit of an eye roll. “Is it wrong to say that I'm having way too much fun trying to picture the look on Sienna's face when she finds out you two are a couple?”

I shrugged and reached for my milk glass. “Sienna's not around enough to realize it's anything more than an attraction.”

“You're right. She's not around much. That's the problem.” Crystal shrugged. “But you know what? I love her anyway. And if I'm being totally honest with myself, I have to admit that she's always been like this, so I get what's coming to me for choosing her in the first place. Do you remember what she did to me in sixth grade?”

“Joey O'Shea.” We spoke the name in unison.

“Yeah.” Crystal smiled. “Best favor anyone ever did me. Joey was a piece of work.”

“Whatever happened to him?”

“He sent me a friend request on Facebook. Let's just say he's not what anyone would necessarily call a catch.”

“Wow. So I guess we should be thanking Sienna for stealing him away from you all those years ago, right?”

“Guess so. Anyway, I'm happy to be marrying my real Prince Charming. And as for you”—she gave me a knowing look—“I would like to think that, maybe, just maybe, the Lord brought the best man directly into your path. Well, the best man for you, anyway. You can thank me for that later.”

“Thank Phillip, you mean.”

“Whatever.” She finished off her cookie and stood up, then hollered into the living room. “Grandma Nellie, you
might as well come back in here. I know you're still eavesdropping.”

“I don't eavesdrop.” Our grandmother popped her head into the room. “But I like that part about the best man falling in love with Mari.”

“See?” My sister laughed. “You were eavesdropping.”

Grandma Nellie crossed her arms at her chest and stared at me. “Who could blame me? I worry about this girl.”

“Worry? Why are you worried about me?”

“You've waited for a boyfriend so long, I'm tempted to staple a lost dog flyer to your blouse.”

“Grandma Nellie!”

“It's true. But now, praise the Lord, I can stop fretting.” On and on she went about my reignited love life. Not that I really had a love life . . . yet.

I put my hand up to stop her. “It's not love. I barely know the guy. It's just been a couple of months, you know?”

“Your grandfather and I eloped after six weeks. We were married for thirty years and had four babies.” She narrowed her gaze. “Sometimes, the Lord, he works quick.”

“True.” My sister nodded. “Sometimes, the Lord, he works quick.” She gave me another wink.

My cell phone rang, thank goodness. I was ready to be done with this conversation. Still, when I saw Derrick's number, I couldn't help but grin.

“Prince Charming calling?” Our grandmother reached for the broom and pretended to dance with it.

I bit back the smile and nodded. “It's Derrick.”

“Mm-hmm. You see?” Grandma Nellie danced back into the living room, still clutching the broom. I reached to press
the button, greeted Derrick with a cheerful, “Hello,” and then felt my heart skip-skip-skip as he asked me to a picnic.

I agreed, of course. And as I ended the call, I also agreed that my grandmother had been right about one thing. Sometimes, the Lord . . . he works quick.

“We couldn't have picked a better day for a picnic.”

I looked on, all smiles, as Derrick unfolded a colorful quilt and spread it on the ground. Any day at Memorial Park was a good day, but spending an afternoon in this glorious weather with Derrick . . . blissful!

Of course, I found myself more than a little distracted by the muscles rippling beneath his white T-shirt as he worked. For a moment I felt like a heroine in one of those romance novels Grandma Nellie read—all swoony. Maybe it had something to do with the heat.

“There. Perfect.” He finished with the quilt and then gestured toward it as if waiting for my approval.

“Yes.” Everything was perfect, all right. He gestured again for me to take a seat, and then he settled in next to me. Our hands brushed as I reached for the basket that held our lunch. For a moment I paused, loving the idea of being so close. He seemed to enjoy it, too, if I could gauge from the contented expression on his face.

Derrick reached to brush a lock of hair off my face with his fingertip, and then he smiled. I froze in place, unable to remember what I needed to do next. Oh yes. Unpack the food.

To our right a family with four young children laughed and talked as they ate at a picnic table. Well, most of them. One of the boys rushed our way, eyes wide. “You're Derrick Richardson.”

“I am.” Derrick gave him a welcoming smile.

“I . . . I . . .” The boy seemed stuck. “I play too.”

“Position?” Derrick looked genuinely interested.

“Pitcher.” His eyes sparkled with pride. Seconds later his dad joined us, and I lost Derrick to a lengthy conversation about the Astros. Not that I minded at all. In fact, I rather enjoyed it.

Afterward, when the boy and his father left us to ourselves, Derrick turned my way, an apologetic expression on his face. “Sorry about that.”

I shook my head. “I'm not, Derrick. It shows me so much about who you are. You always take time for others. You don't make people feel like they're out of line for approaching you. I love that about you.”

“Oh?” His eyes twinkled with mischief. “You love something about me, eh?”

“Well, I, uh . . .” I felt my cheeks grow warm.

“I'm kidding, Southpaw. But I'm glad to know you see more in me than just my so-called talent on the field. It's good, for once, to just be me.” He gave me that signature wink of his. “With you.”

A little giggle followed on my end. I couldn't help
myself. To avoid showing him my embarrassment, I turned my attention to the basket of food. Minutes later, I had our little picnic laid out before us. It looked pretty good, if I did say so myself.

He gave me an admiring look. “I can't believe you pulled this off, Mari. Are you a gourmet chef as well as a cookie baker?”

“No.” I laughed as I opened the container of fruit salad. “But I know how to shop at the local deli, and I'm a whiz with paper plates and plastic forks.”

“Then you're the girl for me. I happen to be a pro with a paper plate myself.”

His right eyebrow elevated, and I could tell he was teasing. Still, he'd lost me at “you're the girl for me.” Did he really mean it?

I got my answer fifteen minutes later, after we'd finished eating.

“Want to go for a walk on the trails?”

“Sure.”

Derrick rose and extended his hand. I took it and stood up, then smiled when I realized he wasn't letting go. In fact, he didn't let go . . . at all. Instead, we walked at a leisurely pace under the canopy of walnut trees, hand in hand. Derrick stopped when we reached a pretty little pond. I saw why at once. The sunlight shimmered down on the water, creating the most exquisite colors.

“Beautiful,” I said after a moment of quiet reflection.

“Yes. Definitely beautiful.” Only he wasn't looking at the water, was he? No, Derrick had turned to face me. The tips of his fingers brushed my cheek and a delicious shiver
wriggled its way down my spine. I peered up into his face and saw the depth of emotion in his eyes. He slipped his other arm around my waist, and I instinctively leaned in to him, resting my head against his shoulder. In that moment, with the sound of the water rippling nearby and the glow of sunlight on our faces, I felt my heart burst into song.

Okay, not burst into song exactly, but I certainly felt like singing, and all the more as Derrick cupped my chin with his palm. I tilted my head to gaze into his eyes and felt myself captivated by the sweetness as his lips met mine for the most delicious kiss ever.

“You're the most wonderful girl I know, Mari Hays.” He whispered soft in my ear.

If any other man had spoken those words, I might not have believed him. But hearing them from Derrick—seeing the sincerity in his eyes—I found myself completely and totally convinced.

And if his words didn't do the trick, the kiss that followed certainly did.

The first two weeks of May buzzed by. A sense of
anticipation filled everyone in our home as the big day approached, and that excitement spilled over onto the wedding party. I'd never seen the bridesmaids so worked up.

Well, most of them. Our maid of honor—if one was willing to still call her that—had completely checked out from the moment she got the news that Derrick and I were dating. Not that she'd ever checked in, of course. She'd skated along the fringes of this wedding from the get-go, so most of us were used to it by now. We forged ahead without her help, each of us looking forward to the big day.