FG 3 - The Wedding Blitz Read online

  “Nice to meet you too,” I smiled a bit sheepishly but I was relieved that someone seemed happy to meet me.

  Now that I was in the living room I could see a display of framed pictures along the top of the fireplace. In one of the photos Hawkins was next to Gwyneth, his ex-fiancé. It shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did but Hawkins must have noticed because he asked, “Mom, why haven’t you taken down that picture yet?”

  “Which picture?” she asked as she came around the fireplace.

  “That had to be three years ago,” Hawkins pointed to the picture of Gwyneth and him smiling at each other during happier days.

  “How could you ask me to take that down at a time like this?” she hissed. “She just passed away Joshua.”

  I grimaced involuntarily. Honestly, I think I was having an easier time stomaching the strategically placed photo compared to all the ‘Joshua talk.’ And now knew where Gwyneth must have gotten it from.

  “I know I was there mom.”

  “She’s a hero,” his mom countered. “Everyone should have a picture of her in their house.”

  I never thought protecting Gwyneth’s splotched record would come back to haunt me since I had singlehandedly made sure that her criminal record would be wiped clean. A deal I had practically made with the devil himself, Robert Vance head of National Security. And in that deal, I made sure the world would only remember Gwyneth for saving thousands of lives at a recent concert instead of helping terrorists overseas.

  “She’s in heaven with Dylan now,” Hawkins’ mom’s eyes glistened with tears for a second at the mention of Hawkins’ deceased brother. Taking a quick glance at the other pictures, I noticed a photo of a person who had to be Hawkins’ brother because he shared the same wicked grin and the same gleam in his blue eyes. I knew he had died only a few years ago due to a car crash and that Hawkins was still dealing with the repercussions of that death when I had first met him earlier this summer.

  “Now enough of this nonsense, dinner’s ready,” Hawkins’ mom turned on her heel to leave the room.

  Hawkins went to reach for the photo of Gwyneth but his dad beat him to it. For a second my eyes darted from father to son until Hawkins’ dad put a finger up to his mouth and moved to place the framed picture underneath the couch earning a smile from me. Clearly Hawkins dad was going to be no trouble for me to like but his mother, well that remained to be seen. Hawkins dad squeezed my shoulder and murmured, “She means well.”

  “Somewhere deep down inside,” Hawkins nodded and for a moment we all smiled at one another.

  “What’s this?” his mom asked when we entered the kitchen again.

  “Nothing dear,” Hawkins’ dad sighed as he crossed the room to take a seat at the head of the dining room table where our plates and glasses were already set out. I couldn’t help but notice that Hawkins’ mom had placed him on the opposite side of the table from me.

  “Ah here it is,” she set down a large casserole of lasagna.

  Normally I would have thought the smell of herbs and garlic coming from the warm dish smelled delicious but honestly the idea of eating made my stomach turn all over again.

  “I hope you’re not one of those vegetarian people,” she looked me up and down like she suspected I might be.

  “No ma’am, I like my meat,” I said before thinking. I felt my cheeks flush as red as the spaghetti sauce when Hawkins smiled across the table at me making those sparkling blue eyes light up.

  Suddenly focusing on the food didn’t seem like that bad of an idea when Hawkins’ dad passed me a basket of garlic bread. Even though I took a smaller portion than I normally would have of the lasagna, salad, and garlic bread, I stared down at my plate wondering how I was going to pull this off. If I didn’t eat his mom’s food, I would risk offending her. If I ate it, I’d probably throw it back up again anyway. I forced myself to take a bite of the lasagna so she’d know I wasn’t one of those vegetarian people but the acidic sauce didn’t sit well in my stomach and I did everything I could not to gag.

  “Is there something wrong with the food, dear?” Hawkins’ mom asked as she joined the rest of us at the table.

  “She hasn’t been feeling well,” Hawkins quickly came to my aid. “There’s a bug going around.”

  “Well you could have told me that on the phone,” she added like everyone’s health was now endangered.

  “We’d be more than happy to leave mom, if that’s what you want?” Hawkins asked, clearly irritated.

  “Don’t be silly,” she waved him off with her fork, and then added as an afterthought. “We’ve already been exposed.” She looked at me with a wary eye.

  I pushed the lasagna around until the garlic bread was soaked with its juices. Just the sight alone sickened me as I clung to my linen napkin twisting it and untwisting it in my hand.

  “So what’s it that you do again Joie?” Hawkins’ mom asked in between bites. “Besides, write for my son’s website?” she raised a skeptical brow.

  I wasn’t sure which was worse, forcing myself to eat or forcing myself to answer her horrid questions. I knew she was referring to the time I used to get paid to write unflattering things about my encounters with Hawkins.

  “She doesn’t do that anymore,” Hawkins sighed and I saw him fix her with a look when he thought I wasn’t pay attention.

  “Then what is it that she does do?” his mom asked innocently enough but I think we all knew, I didn’t do anything. I wasn’t like Gwyneth. I didn’t work for Doctors Without Borders.

  “How was your trip to Johannesburg, mom?” Hawkins quickly changed the subject.

  “Your father,” she set her sights on him next, “Partook in a pagan feast with a tribe of Bushmen.”

  “Pagan feast?” Hawkins repeated as his brow knitted together.

  “They slaughtered a wild boar for a religious sacrifice and served it to us. I told you’re father not to eat it but he never listens to me.” She rolled her eyes at Hawkins’ dad across the table.

  “And it was the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted,” he said without missing a beat causing her to instantly scoff, to his obvious delight.

  “And you’ve been sick as a dog ever since. That’s what you get,” she pointed her fork at him and added, “Feasting with the devil himself.”

  “Depends, does the devil wear Prada?” he winked.

  “Oh you,” she smiled at his reference to a chick flick before narrowing her twinkling eyes in mock disapproval. I could tell that they were still in love with each other after all these years and though I wasn’t a fan of Hawkins’ mom, I liked the two of them as a couple.

  It made me wonder if this was why Hawkins believed that the institution of marriage could actually work. Lord knows, it didn’t with my parents; a fear I shared with him whenever we talked about taking the next step of getting married. I didn’t want to rush into anything just because we were having a baby. I was taking things one moment at a time like trying to get through this dinner.

  Once everyone was finally finished eating, I was just relieved that I didn’t have to put on a show any longer. Still I felt weak and had to grab a hold of the chair because the room had suddenly gone fuzzy from getting up too soon. I didn’t know how Hawkins managed to reach me so quickly but he grabbed my arm to steady me as the room slowly reappeared.

  “I hope she doesn’t have anything serious,” Hawkins’ mom said in such a way that sounded more concerned for her wellbeing than mine.

  “Mom,” Hawkins growled because he must have heard the tone in her voice too.

  “Are you okay, Joie?” he turned his focus back to me since he knew the only bug I had was the little bugger inside me.

  “Just got up too soon,” I plastered a smile on my face for Hawkins’ sake.

  “Baltimore’s playing The Giants,” Hawkins’ dad announced as we reconvened in the living room to watch football. I was kind of hoping we’d be leaving soon but Hawkins’ mom was in the middle of showing him a souvenir sh
e bought on their trip to Africa.

  “It’s a one of a kind afghan,” she explained to him. “It really is quite exquisite, don’t you think?” She held up the intricately knitted navy blue and white zigzagged African print blanket. “It’s supposed to ward off evil spirits but you know I don’t believe in that kind of stuff.”

  “I like it,” Hawkins nodded and then subtly squeezed my hand to let me know that he hadn’t forgotten about me, or how sick I felt. “It looks very tribal, very African…umm mom?”

  “Yes dear?”

  “Do you think I could talk to you alone for a second?” Hawkins got up from the couch.

  “Sure,” she took a quick glance at me before folding up the blanket and placing it to the side. Hawkins politely gestured for her to go ahead of him into the kitchen area before following in behind her. In a house with not too many walls, it made it easy for me to overhear a conversation quickly heating up between the two of them.

  “Absolutely not!” his mom hissed. “That’s a family heirloom. It belonged to your grandmother.”

  “She’s the one, mom.”

  “No, she’s not.”

  I didn’t know if it was because Hawkins’ parents, or at least one of them, didn’t think I was good enough for their son or if was from all of the hormones of having a baby but whatever the reason, tears suddenly welled up in my eyes from what I was overhearing.

  “I understand you like football,” Hawkins’ dad quickly intervened by turning up the television set. “The Steelers, right?”

  I could tell he was trying to make me feel better and I appreciated the thought. I nodded in response as a set of tears escaped down my cheeks. I was mortified that I was crying in front of Hawkins’ dad of all people but just like my gag reflexes, I didn’t seem to have control over my emotions either lately.

  “Well then, you’re going to want to watch this,” he changed the channel from the previous game we were watching. “The Steelers are already up by thirty points against New England and it’s only halftime.”

  I never did get the chance to watch the game because Hawkins stormed into the room seconds later looking absolutely livid. “Sorry dad, but we’re leaving,” he explained to his father who nodded like he understood.

  “Come on Joie, let’s get you settled back on the bus,” he reached his hand down for mine to help me up. I quickly tried to wipe away a fresh set of tears so he wouldn’t know that I had overheard them.

  “Are you crying?” The anger quickly dissolved from his expression as he searched my face.

  “I just don’t feel well,” I tried to shrug it off causing the tears to suddenly dry up from embarrassment.

  “I’m so sorry,” he face suddenly fell when he realized the extent of what I had overheard.

  “It’s fine,” I lied.

  “No, it’s not,” he insisted as he took my hand and quickly led me out of the living room as if determined to protect me from any more harmful comments.

  “Don’t leave like this, Joshua,” his mom said with exasperation.

  “I expected more from you, mom. Joie is a part of my life now and if you want me in yours, you’re going to have to accept her. So if you can’t find it in yourself to treat her that way, than there’s no reason for us to stay any longer.”

  She threw her arms up in the air in response as we turned to leave.

  Once we were alone outside again, I insisted, “It’s okay.” I put on a brave face as we crossed the yard back over to the driveway. “If she doesn’t like me, I’m fine with it.”

  “Yeah, well I’m not,” he frowned as we headed down the steps to his car.

  “I don’t want to come between you and your mom.”

  “I know you don’t,” his eyes suddenly softened when he finally turned to look at me. Something about the way I must have looked caused him to squeeze my hand and say, “You poor thing, you were miserable tonight weren’t you?”

  “Henry, didn’t like dinner,” I laid a hand on my belly as he helped me into his black Saab. “Though I think Chuck would be a more suited name,” I gulped as I titled my head back.

  “So Chuck didn’t like the dinner?” Hawkins reached across to place a hand on my belly.

  “No, Chuck did not,” I stressed as our fingers intertwined with one another. When he started to coo silly little things to ‘Chuck’ I laughed because I barely had a bump and honestly it was a good release from all the previous tension with his mother.

  I may have said that what happened with Hawkins’ mother didn’t bother me but I don’t think I had fooled Hawkins. In fact I think he blamed himself for what I had overheard because once we were alone again in the privacy of his room, I could tell he wanted to show me just how passionately he loved me judging by the way he pulled off all of my clothes then his in a matter of seconds.

  “I only want you Joie,” he murmured in between fierce kisses as our bodies moved together to the sweet up and down rhythm we were quickly perfecting. The physical release mixed with my own insecurities brought tears to my eyes again.

  “Don’t stop,” I pleaded when his back curled to the ceiling but his face faltered for a second as he wiped away a tear with his thumb.

  “I love every part of you, Joie.”

  “Really?” I sniffed. “Like what part?” I asked somberly. “Because I’m quickly discovering that no one thinks I’m good enough for you. At first I just thought it was the paparazzi…,” I drifted off, not even able to make eye contact with him.

  “Ah well let’s see, like for starters, this stubborn head of yours,” he leaned in to softly kiss my cheek and then the other one. “It’s strong enough to knock out an NSA operative,” he smirked causing me to suddenly laugh through the tears.

  “And these arms,” he let his fingertips softly explore their way down to the crook of my arm. “These arms are strong enough to hold on to a dangling guitar strap.” We locked eyes with each other at the mention of that horrific night. “And these legs,” he slid a hand down the back of my thigh. “These legs are fast enough to outrun a stalker in the middle of a campground.”

  “Amen,” I whispered.

  “And these lips,” he pressed his against mine for a kiss. “Were strong enough to put me in my place when I said a thing or two that I shouldn’t have,” his lip curled up causing me to snicker.

  “And I know this baby,” he placed a hand on my stomach, “Is going to be strong enough to handle all kinds of things…fear, suffering, adversity…life.”

  “So let me get this straight,” I stopped him. “You love me because I’m…strong?”

  “You’re strong enough to handle me and all the craziness that comes along with being me. So yeah, being strong is just one of the many reasons why I love you.”

  “One of the reasons why I will always love you,” he confessed and I knew he meant as in forever.

  Chapter Three

  I woke up the next morning to the sound of someone pounding on our bedroom door. I rolled over in bed too exhausted to get up but whoever it was couldn’t get a clue and continued to pound on the door.

  “Hawkins someone’s knocking on the door for you,” I mumbled groggily wondering who would bother us this early in the morning. With another knock on the door, I reached my hand across to gently nudge him but my hand fell through a bunch of rumpled up empty sheets.

  Confused, I sat up wondering where he might be at this hour. It was nine-thirty in the morning which meant that it was too early for it to be Riley or Lizzie. So I was astonished to see both of them standing there at the back of the bus completely dressed from head to toe when I finally opened the door.

  “Hello sunshine,” Lizzie sang. “Finally decided to get up, ay?”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I grumbled.

  “How are you doing?” Riley asked, his honey colored eyes looked round and troubled.

  Do you mean how’s my stomach doing or how am I doing now that I know Hawkins’ mom hates me?”

  “What’s this?” Rile
y narrowed his eye clearly trying to appear like this was news to him but I didn’t see any shock in his expression either. Hawkins must have imagined that last night was going to go better than it did and thought to include Riley and Lizzie in his plans to celebrate. My heart dropped a fraction with the realization. I turned to Lizzie next who I knew would give it to me straight.

  “What a bitch,” she quickly replied revealing the truth.

  “You can’t call her a bitch, Lizzie,” I laughed.

  “And why not?” she crossed her tan arms over her chest. “She obviously doesn’t think you’re good enough for her son.”

  “Thanks Liz,” I added sarcastically as I back peddled to the edge of the bed to sit down since this conversation felt like it was literally sucking the life out of me. “You can’t call her a bitch, Lizzie,” I sighed. “Because she’s not Gwyneth; she’s my baby’s grandmother.”

  “Yeah—but she doesn’t know that yet,” Lizzie added.

  I was all out of one-liners to zing back at her and honestly I didn’t even want to try because I knew Lizzie’s heart was in the right place.

  “Okay so you knew things didn’t go well last night then why the early wakeup call?”

  “We umm…,” Lizzie turned to Riley for help.

  “Wanted to visit Seattle while we’re here,” Riley shrugged innocently enough.

  For a second I just stared at them in disbelief; waiting for the punch line because I had been trying to get them interested in doing something…anything but watch the band play night after night.

  “Funny guys,” I smiled. “So what’s really going on?”

  “The Chihuly Museum’s in Seattle,” Riley nodded until I realized he was being serious. “I’d like to see it.”

  “You want to sightsee?” I asked in disbelief. “Both of you?” I turned to look at Lizzie again.

  “Warren’s drunk and passed out on his bus,” Lizzie shrugged like why not.

  “The one time I feel like crap and don’t want to go anywhere, you guys want to see the city?” I could only laugh at the irony of it all.