Breaking All The Rules (Book 1 - Second Chances Series) (15 page)

I was making the place cards for the reception, the favors and the centerpieces for the tables myself. A lot of work, but it was the only way to get it all done at a cost effective price and in time for the wedding.

The three days that he was gone were almost unbearable. I’d never admit that to him or anyone else, but I was seriously getting the shakes from “Ethan Wright” withdrawal symptoms. Without Ethan there was no one giving me incessant compliments, no one to laugh at my sarcastic humor, and no one to spend time with to get away from the evenings with Terrance and Janette. Ethan had been extremely useful.

We video conferenced once a day. He also sent me text messages and emailed me pictures. The pictures were of himself, his friends, and various buildings around Paris. He even made a few videos giving me mini tours. He was so much fun.

My phone rang to the tune of “911” by Wyclef Jean and Mary J. Blige. Ethan had assigned his number to the ringtone the night before he left to ensure I didn’t miss any of his calls or text messages in the wave of wedding communication I was getting. I pushed the button to read the text that said,
“FT”
which meant open video conferencing. I obediently and happily pushed the app for FaceTime on my iPad.

I stared at his handsome face on the screen. We’d already talked for an hour this morning while he traveled to the airport. We’d been interrupted by airport security.

“So, they let you in the terminal,” I teased.

“Yes, my bionic knee gets me a full cavity search every time.”

“And yet, you keep flying all over the world.”

“Can’t let a little thing like that keep me down,” he said. “Promise me the next time I’m on a flight here that you’re with me. You have to visit to really appreciate the beauty.”

“If you pay for the plane ticket,” I replied, smiling.

“I’m going to hold you to it.” He paused for a moment. “I’ve decided to go to the funeral. I’ll have to leave the morning after the wedding to get to South Africa on time.”

I nodded. I felt sad, but selfishly not for his friend. I was too focused on my own loss. I’d just had three days without him and now he’d be going even further away. My heart was cracking.

“I wish you had a passport so you could join me. I’d love to show you the country.”

I was silent. I fought hard not to let disappointment show on my face. I clasped my hands together and pressed the nervous energy into my palms. “His parents will be glad to see you.”

He nodded. “I’m honored to know his family. I’m playing the piano during the service.”

“That’s nice.”

He stood. “It’s time for me to board.”

I could hardly clear the knot in my throat. “Have a good flight.”

“I will.” He hesitated for a moment like he wanted to say something else.

Adrenaline shot to my heart. My women’s intuition told me I wanted to hear what he had on his mind. “What’s up?” I asked, giving him a little nudge.

He scratched the side of his face and shook his head a bit like he was unsure, which wasn’t like him. “Nothing, I’ll text you when I get on the ground.”

I nodded. The moment was lost, but my heart was still pounding.

We ended the call, but it did not stop the tirade of mixed emotions running through me. I felt warm and happy because I’d talked to him; because I’d be seeing him in less than twelve hours. But on the heels of my joy came  fear and confusion. In less than forty eight hours he’d be on his way to Africa. When was he coming back? Was he coming back? Would he still text and call me? I had no idea what he and I were actually doing. We weren’t a couple. All we’d done was kiss and proclaim our unyielding attraction to each other. And if Ethan proposed a thing like “us” trying a relationship I couldn’t imagine it working. I wasn’t leaving New York,certainly not for a boyfriend, even if he was sexy and smart and rich. Mature women just didn’t do that. They didn’t pick up and move for men they weren’t married to. That was young girl mess.

I sighed and turned my attention back to the mirror. I’d been twisting my hair for the last hour. The creating of my Celie braids didn’t seem to phase Ethan one bit. I smiled at the thought. Just one more thing to love about him, he liked my hair.

I did two more plaits and it was finished. All I had to do was untwist it before dinner tonight. I pinned it into a hairstyle that would work when I left the house later to run my last minute errands. I pushed my hair butter aside and pulled the copy of the seating chart in front of me and checked it against the escort cards. It was my third time checking my work. There was no point. I knew it was correct. I was done with everything. I just needed to show up in the morning to supervise the decorating committee, and then I could get dressed and airbrushed like all the other women in the wedding party.

I sighed. This had been an incredibly long week. It was seven thirty a.m. and I’d already been up for hours. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and decided to go back to bed and see if I could snag some much needed beauty rest. 

***

It was the ringing of the doorbell that woke me. I reached for my cell phone to check the time.  It was nearly noon. I heard the shower going and realized I would have to be the one to get the door, so I popped up and trotted down the stairs. It was a teenage boy.  After a moment, I recognized him as Evie’s son from the bridal shop with our dress delivery.  I pulled the door open, accepted our package and gave him a tip. I did a quick inspection of both, finishing just as Janette stuck her head down over the stair railing. “Is that my dress?” she squealed.

“It is.” I hung the bag up over the foyer closet door.

She disappeared from the hallway, but I heard her coming down five minutes later. She unzipped the bag. “Ooo wee! I can’t believe it. One more day and I’m going to be Mrs. Terrance Wright.”

I swallowed. Hearing that still felt weird.

Janette pushed back the sides of the bag and let the skirt of the dress flow freely. “It’s so pretty. I know I just had it on the day before yesterday, but I want to try it on again.”

“Can’t hurt to make sure it’s perfect.” I took the bag upstairs and Janette followed me. I helped my sister into her dress and grabbed a few hairpins off the dresser to pin her hair up the way it would be tomorrow.

“My jewelry,” she said and threw her hands over her mouth. “Oh, you’re going to kill me. My pregnancy brain. I forgot the jeweler called yesterday to say the pieces were ready.”

I wasn’t going to kill her. It was my job to remember the jeweler and I’d forgotten.

“I’m sorry, Niecy. Do you have time to get them today?”

I glanced at my watch. “No problem. I have to pick up a few things anyway, so let me go now.”

“Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me. What a blessing you’ve been to me. I know you’re my sister, but what you’ve done.” Her eyes filled with tears that began to spill onto her cheeks. Janette reached up and wrapped her arms around my neck. I gave her a long hug. As trying as this week had been, it was impossible for me to be angry with her for long. I loved her so much. She and I were all we had and the truth was she’d always been spoiled, selfish and competitive with me about everything. She hadn’t changed a bit.

I pulled some facial tissues from the box and dabbed at her eyes. “We can’t have a mascara stain on this dress, so let’s get you out of it.”

I helped her take off the dress and returned it to the hanger. Then I grabbed my handbag and exited the house. Ethan had left me his truck. At first, I didn’t think it was necessary. Once I drove it a few times, I found I enjoyed the size. It made me feel closer to him and reminded me of his not so amateur counseling session that helped me deal with the nausea. It also smelled like him. That was the best perk of them all.

I drove into  downtown Garrison. My first stop was for Janette’s jewelry. I inspected the items and left the shop with them in a crush proof box. Next, I stopped by the bakery to decorate the cake. I’d chosen to add flowers around the perimeter of each layer. These were the only artificial flowers in the entire wedding. I’d had to custom order pink Heather from a florist in New York, because the local florist wasn’t sure he would have them in time. Flowers were a big deal. I made sure to find the best  quality for my brides.

I stepped back and surveyed the cake. It was perfect and it’d be perfect tomorrow, because of course, artificial flowers didn’t wilt. It was a simple, yet effective way to pull the cake into the theme. I confirmed the delivery time with the owner and was on my way.

My phone rang as I was getting back in the truck. It was Terrance. I sent the call to voicemail. It rang again. I sent it to voicemail a second time. Then I received a text that simply said: 
We should talk.

I sighed. I was out of time on running from him. He and Janette were getting married tomorrow and it was obvious he had something he wanted to say to me. I had to get this conversation over, because tomorrow he would be family. I couldn’t be in this place at Thanksgiving and Christmas. I had nephew to visit. He and I had to work it out. I pushed the button to make the call.

“I was starting to think you’d never talk to me,” he said.

I sighed. “What do you want Terrance?”

“Ten minutes of your time.”

“I’m on the phone. You have it.”

“Not like this. I need to see you.” I knew from his tone, he wouldn’t back down on our meeting being face to face, but I still attempted to do it my way.

“Why can’t we talk on the phone?”

“Because I want to avoid a misunderstanding,” he replied. “Let’s meet at the old Chambers complex on Highway 54. I’m renting some space there.”

I knew the area. There used to be a general store and a slew of other stores at that location, but Wal-mart came to town and put the little guys out of business.

“I need to come now. I have a lot to do –”

He cut me off. “Now is perfect. I’m on my way there.”

I sent a text to Gayle.

Me:
Going to meet with Terrance to have the talk.

Gayle:
 
In the nick of time I’d say.

Me:
Pray it goes well.

Gayle:
Speak from your heart, not your emotions. Praying.

I turned off Main Street and began to creep along the back road that led to the location I assumed was Terrance’s site for his new business. I was dreading this conversation, but Terrance was right, we needed to say whatever needed to be said before he and my sister became husband and wife.

It wasn’t that I thought our conversation would stop a wedding. I didn’t love Terrance and I was sure he didn’t love me, but I was in my feelings. He knew it and he knew why, so this conversation needed to happen.

I made a right onto the street I was looking for and spotted his truck outside in the parking lot. It was the only vehicle there, because Terrance’s space was the only thing back here that was open. I parked my car. He met me at the door.

The space was huge. They’d knocked down the walls connecting the stores and made one large open facility. It extended back for what I reasoned to be half the length of a New York City block.

I crossed my arms over my chest. The clicking of my steel stiletto heels filled the cavernous space until I stopped at Terrance’s desk. “Ethan didn’t tell me what you were planning to do here. He’s a silent partner in more ways than one.”

Terrance exhaled a long breath. He seemed to be relieved. I wondered if he thought I was going to come in here screaming and hollering.

“I asked him not to tell anyone. I wanted to get all the money lined up.”

“And surprise Janette with the Investment Bank episode.”

He smiled and tapped his fist against his palm. “That too. Money is bound to pour in after the show. People invest whether the bankers on the show do or not.”

“Well since you have me out here, what’s the plan? What are you doing?”

“Building furniture for pop-up houses.”

I gave him the explain look.

“A pop-up is a kind of pre-fab home. The company we’re in business with is making the houses out of shipping containers.”

I’d seen news stories about this before, but I hadn’t really paid close attention, so I asked, “Are pop-up houses supposed to be the new trailer home?”

“No,” he said, “Well, yes, they could be, but we’re focusing on third world countries where there are housing shortages like South Africa.”

“I thought people were doing that already.”

“They are but not near enough. The market for this is wide open and our furniture model is a little more innovative. Let me show you the plans.”

I followed him inside where he showed me plans and sketches and videos of what they were doing. It was cool stuff. I was impressed.

“How in the world did you become interested in something like this?”

“It was Ethan. The stories he’d tell when he came home. The documentary he did for CNN a few years ago really tugged at my heart. I just knew there had to be something we could do here.”

“And it creates jobs,” I said, uncrossing my arms.