* * *
Thump. Thump. Thump, thump, thump. Errrr—aaaaa—ck. The nail gun rapid-fired to the accompaniment of a screeching saw. Boom. Jenny winced and ducked as a stack of planks dropped directly above her head. Time to go.
Jenny grabbed her coffee mug, gathered up her laptop and wedding bible, and moved out to the flagstaff patio. She cranked open the hunter green umbrella and settled down at the old iron and glass patio set that’d come with the house. Looking out over the lazily rippling lake, Jenny sipped her coffee and appreciated the cool morning breeze, knowing it wouldn’t last. In a few hours the oppressive summer heat and humidity would drive her into air conditioning. But for now, she’d enjoy working outside.
Jenny rolled spongy orange earplugs, wedged them in her ears, and lifted the lid on her laptop. They’d had a seven-thirty meeting at the new house with the landscaper to finalize the yard work to start next week. After that, she’d have no safe haven on site to work.
With machinery digging in the yard throwing dirt everywhere and carpenters and drywallers dusting up the house, Jenny’d have no clean, relatively quiet space to work, but as long as they kept making progress at this rate, she didn’t mind.
Things were coming along nicely. In a couple of weeks, they’d added a third garage, her study over it, and a glass-enclosed porch off the dining room. The electrician would complete rewiring this week, and the plumber should finish up next week. The kitchen and bathrooms would be attacked next, ripping out all the outdated appliances, cupboards, and cabinets, replacing them with designer cherry cabinets and pink-flecked, black granite surfaces.
All the bathrooms would have new flooring, wood cabinets, and lovely designer touches like vessel and copper sinks, bronze faucets, and a steam shower for Gabe to help him relax after a rough day on his feet.
After the birch hardwood floors were sanded and refinished, the whole house would be treated to a fresh coat of paint. Then they’d be done, hopefully by Christmas. Then they’d be comfortably settled for their February wedding.
Jenny opened the guest list spreadsheet. They’d whittled it down to a hundred fifty people, but something still nagged at her. Chin propped on her folded hands, she stared harder at the list. Jenny’d always dreamt about a small, intimate wedding, fifty people max. Nothing elaborate, just elegant. A hundred fifty wasn’t exactly small, but Gabe requested so little, she couldn’t complain when his list included forty colleagues.
She opened her wedding bible. The summer she’d been thirteen, Jenny and her best friend, Jackie, had driven her mom crazy. Too young to get real jobs and too old for camps, the girls had been bored out of their minds. To keep the boy-crazed girls out of trouble, Mom took them to Jo-Ann’s craft store and bought them each scrapbooks, the beginning of her wedding bible.
Through the years, Jenny’d cut out pictures and added to it. Then along came Pinterest with millions more ideas, and the bible had been relegated to her closet, but she still referred to it for an idea or two.
Jenny frowned at the colorful wedding collage. Maybe it was the orchids. She liked the way they looked, but they were kind of stinky. Perhaps... She flipped to the flower pages. Maybe something like tulips would be more suitable? Then again, tulips might not be available in February. Shoot.
Her mother was supposed to be here, giving her opinion. Planning Jenny’s wedding was supposed to be their girl bonding time. Never in a million years had Jenny ever imagined her mother wouldn’t be excited and involved in her wedding, but she wouldn’t force it on her.
Mom’s enthusiasm for the wedding hadn’t grown any—not even when Gabe insisted on splitting the cost to compensate for his extra guests and Jenny’d mostly repaid her loan.
Following a strict regimen, Jenny succeeded in paying down the bulk of her debt.
Savings from adding the second roommate, plus the additional income waitressing weekends provided, and she was on track to be completely debt-free very soon.
Though her free time, social life, and sleep had been severely compromised, Jenny didn’t mind ’cause she’d remained disciplined. She’d done it. All by herself. As soon as her paycheck cleared, she’d pay off Mom and Dad, and then she’d have a small balance on her VISA for a few more weeks before she’d experience the sweet relief and pride of fiscal freedom.
All she had to do was dredge up the energy to continuing waitressing until Thanksgiving, and then she’d have enough money saved for Christmas presents and a tidy little bonus to pay for extra wedding goodies.
Jenny smiled. Life was good. Close to debt-free and closing in on her favorite season. She loved the fall with all its autumn earth colors and coziness. Life seemed to slow a little in Michigan: the kids were back in school, summer vacations were over, and people worked in their yards raking leaves, winterizing their houses, putting snow tires on their cars... Families drew inward concentrating on hunkering down for the winter and preparing for the holidays.
She looked forward to spending lots of quality time hibernating with her love in their new home, but first, their perfect wedding. Jenny took a fortifying sip of coffee and opened the Google doc spreadsheet. Today she needed to analyze the three photographers’ bids and pick one, proof the invitations, then at three she had an appointment with French’s Flowers in Livonia to finalize the bouquets, boutonnieres, and centerpieces.
The florist was a long-time friend of her mom’s. Ordinarily they didn’t work in Grosse Pointe, but Judie made an exception for Jenny, and Jenny hoped giving her mom’s friend the business and added exposure would please her.
Jenny looked out over the water. With or without Mom’s help, she’d have an amazing wedding that would force her mother to see Jenny as a capable, grown woman.
It’s okay, Mom, I don’t need your help. I can do this.
Jenny slouched in her chair. Though it’d be a lot more fun with Mom. She wanted her mom to be happy for her, to share in this special time. That’s the way it was supposed to be. She pushed out a deep sigh.
Suddenly, a big hand stroked her head. Gabe brushed her hair aside and gently pulled a plug from her ear. “Hey, Baby. What’s wrong?”
Plucking the other earplug out, Jenny forced a smile and cheerful tone to her voice. “Hey. What’re you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in surgery?”
“Forgot my phone.” Gabe reached across the table and pocketed his Galaxy. He took a step back and looked at her. “What’s the matter?”
The temptation to let it all spill out and have a good cry in his arms swamped her, but Jenny refused to burden Gabe with her silly family problems. With the clinic and having to rearrange his schedule to accommodate these frequent builder meetings, and his own wedding to-do list, Gabe had enough stress.
She smiled broadly. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Damn it Jenny, you’re exhausted. Why won’t you let me help?”
“I’m fine.”
“At least let me finish paying off your credit card. You’ve made your point: you’re an independent woman. I respect that, but I also respect someone who knows her limits and asks for help when she needs it.”
“And I will if I need it. But I don’t. I’m fine, and you’ve got to get to work.”
“Let me hire a wedding planner for you.”
“I don’t want a wedding planner.” She smiled at Gabe. “I’ve been planning this day since I was a little girl.”
“I don’t want you stressing over this. You’re spread too thin.”
Jenny raised an eyebrow. “Have you always been this bossy?”
“Have you always been this stubborn?
She nodded. “Pretty much.” Jenny wondered if he bossed Judith around like this, somehow she doubted it. His ex-wife was pretty strong-willed. Ex-wife. Hmm. “Hey, Gabe? What was your first wedding like?”
“Doesn’t matter. This is your wedding.”
“And yours.” Suddenly it was important to know what his and Judith’s wedding had been like. “What was it like?”
&nb
sp; Gabe shrugged. “The usual. Tux. Church wedding. Friends. Family. Band.”
Jenny glanced at her bible and Pinterest pictures—everything she was planning.
“Flowers. Fancy food. It doesn’t matter,” Gabe said.
It did. Very much. Everybody always said the wedding was for the bride, but this was Gabe’s second wedding, and she wanted it to be amazing for him, too. Maybe that’s what had been bugging her. Her gaze strayed to her scrapbook. She’d been following the plan, but what if this plan didn’t fit her and Gabe?
“Do we really need all this?” Jenny nodded at the wedding bible.
“What do you mean?” His eyes narrowed on her as if wondering if this was a trick question.
“Do you care at all about the flowers? The invitations? The music, the clothes, the guests, ceremony, food...” She waved a negligent hand at her computer and wedding bible. “...etcetera.”
“Of course I do.”
Jenny frowned, reprimanding. “Truth.”
“If it matters to you, it matters to me.”
“Gabe,” she drew out his name in a warning.
Gabe cocked his head and looked apologetic. “Not really. But it’s fine,” he hurried on. “I want it to be perfect for you.”
With a twinge of relief, some of her exhaustion lifted. Jenny shut the Pinterest screen. “In that case, I have an idea.”
Chapter 7