Page 57 of One Night Bride
“It sounded like a good idea when you said that a few days ago, but then I just kept seeing his face and how mad he was. I want to give him some time to cool off before I talk to him.”
That was a lie. A poorly constructed one, too. I knew it and they knew it. Mom sighed through her teeth, reminding me of a balloon with a quick leak.
“Last we talked, you were going to try dating. Seems to me you must feel more than a vague fondness by now if you’re killing a whole forest in tissues,” Dad grumbled, always able to get right to the point.
The tears flooded my eyes again. Mom tittered beside me. That searing pain was back, not letting up even though it had been a few days now. Wasn’t time supposed to heal all wounds? Like how much time were we talking here?
“Yeah,” I whispered. “I love him.”
I shoved another tissue in my face and let Mom stroke my hair while they talked around me. My throat had closed, and I didn’t have the energy to slog through it all again. The tears started falling, and I vaguely wondered if I was getting dehydrated yet.
“He proposed for real this time,” Izzy told them.
Vee gasped. “Did she say yes?”
“Yes. And the next morning, the pictures came out. They argued over her response to the public outing and then he left, telling her she’d be hearing from his lawyers.”
I appreciated Izzy explaining everything so I didn’t have to. I could just sit there and leak more liquids, trying to remember what it felt like to have my life together.
Vee whistled. “Damn.”
“Okay, so you love him.” Oakley stood up, and I had to wipe at my eyes to see her clearly. “You have to go fight for him.”
I shook my head. “I can’t. He was so mad, Oak.”
“Are you freaking kidding me?” Vee stood up and approached, pinching her nose like I reeked, and she couldn’t stand to inhale this close to me.
Jeez. The BO wasn’t that bad. I lifted an arm to sneak a whiff and changed my mind. It was bad. Dear God, someone had chopped onions in my armpits while I was watching my chick flicks.
“You, the drill sergeant with your lists and goals and phrases to spark motivation, are going to sit on your ass—sorry, Mom—and let that fine cowboy just ride on out of here?” Vee flicked me in the forehead.
“Ow!” I rubbed the smarting skin. I could do without the physical assault.
Vee flapped her arms, obviously on a roll. “Circle the wagons, get in alignment, deep dive into your options, and choose your best practices. You’re going to leverage your good looks, piggyback on the love he obviously feels for you, and be the change agent you currently seek.”
I stared at her, stunned. She was speaking my language for the very first time.
Badly, but I was finally listening.
A spark of something bright cleared the dead air fumigating my soul.
“I gotta jump the curb and wrestle that alligator to the ground,” I whispered, staring at the coffee table as my brain spun in a thousand directions.
“What in Sam Hill are they talking about?” Dad whispered loudly to no one in particular.
“Shh. Whatever it is, it’s working,” Oakley whispered back.
I stood up so fast my stomach lurched. I pulled the tissue out of my nose. “I’ve got to go see him.”
Vee clapped her hands and pointed both pistol fingers at me. “You’re back in your wheelhouse, bitch!”
“Vee, really?” Mom muttered.
“I’ll start with a shower, put on my best outfit, and then I’ll go to Wyoming to see him. I’ll write up a speech on the airplane. Maybe a PowerPoint would be good too.” Excitement was building, breathing life into my limbs for the first time all week.
“Skip the PowerPoint, honey,” Mom offered. “Just tell him how you really feel. And then most importantly, show him.”
I spun and stared at her. “How do I show it without a PowerPoint?”
