I’d thought it would take at least a little time to adjust to being at home again after being away at college, but I fell back into my old routine pretty much right away. Before the end of the first week, I was unpacked and having early-morning breakfasts with my mom and fighting with my brother Steven over the state of the bathroom we shared. I was messy, but Steven took it to a whole new level. I guessed it ran in our family. And I started working at Behrs again, taking as many shifts as they would let me, sometimes two a day.
The night before we all went to Cousins for the dedication of Susannah’s garden, Jere and I were talking on the phone. We were talking about wedding stuff, and I told him some of Taylor’s ideas. He loved them all but balked at the idea of a carrot cake.
“I want a chocolate cake,” he said. “With raspberry filling.”
“Maybe one layer can be carrot and one can be chocolate,” I suggested, cradling the phone to my shoulder. “I’ve heard they can do that.”
I was sitting on my bedroom floor, counting my tips for the night. I hadn’t even changed out of my work shirt yet, even though it had grease stains all down the front, but I was too beat to bother. I just loosened the necktie.
“A chocolate-raspberry-carrot cake?”
“With cream cheese frosting for my layer,” I reminded him.
“Sounds kinda complicated to me flavor profilewise, but fine. Let’s do it.”
I smiled to myself as I stacked my ones and fives and tens. Jeremiah was watching a lot of Food Network since he’d been home.
“Well, first we have to be able to pay for this alleged cake,” I said. “I’ve been taking all the shifts I can, and I’ve only got a hundred and twenty bucks saved so far. Taylor says wedding cakes are really expensive. Maybe I should ask her mom to bake the cake instead. Mrs. Jewel’s a really good baker. We probably couldn’t ask for anything too fancy, though.”
Jeremiah had been silent on the other line. Then he finally said, “I don’t know if you should keep working at Behrs.”
“What are you talking about? We need the money.”
“Yeah, but I have the money my mom left me. We can use that for the wedding. I don’t like you having to work so hard.”
“But you’re working too!”
“I’m an intern. It’s a bullshit job. I’m not working half as hard as you are for this wedding. I sit around an office, and you’re busting your ass working double shifts at Behrs. It doesn’t feel right.”
“If this is because I’m the girl and you’re the guy…,” I began.
“That’s not it, dude. I’m just saying, why should you have to work this hard when I have money in my savings account?”
“I thought we said we were going to do this on our own.”
“I’ve been doing some Internet research, and it looks like it’s going to be a lot more expensive than we thought. Even if we go really simple, we still have to pay for food and drinks and flowers. We’re only getting married once, Belly.”
“True.”
“My mom would want to contribute. Right?”
“I guess.…” Susannah would want to do more than contribute. She’d want to be there every step of the way—dress shopping, deciding on the flowers and food, all of it. She’d want to do it up. I always pictured her there on my wedding day, sitting next to my mom, wearing a fancy hat. It was a really nice picture.
“So let’s let her contribute. Besides, you’re gonna get really busy with wedding-planning stuff with Taylor. I’ll help as much as I can, but I still have to be at work from nine to five. When you call caterers and flower people or whatever, that’ll have to be during the day, and I won’t be able to be there.”
I was really impressed that he’d thought of all this. I liked this other side of him, thinking ahead, worrying about my health. I had just been complaining about calluses on my feet too.
“Let’s talk more about it after we tell our parents,” I told him.
“Are you still nervous?”
I’d been trying not to think about it too much. At Behrs, I focused all my energy on delivering bread baskets and refilling drinks and cutting slices of cheesecake. In a way, I was glad to be working double shifts, because it kept me out of the house and away from my mother’s watchful eye. I hadn’t worn my engagement ring since I’d been home. I only pulled it out at night, in my room.
I said, “I’m scared, but I’ll be relieved to finally have it out in the open. I hate keeping things from my mom.”
“I know,” he said.
I looked at the clock. It was twelve thirty. “We’re gonna leave early tomorrow morning, so I should probably go to sleep.” I hesitated before asking, “Are you driving up with just your dad? What’s the deal with Conrad?”
“I have no clue. I haven’t talked to him. I think he’s flying in tomorrow. We’ll see if he even shows.”
I wasn’t sure if it was disappointment I was feeling or relief. Probably both. “I doubt he’ll come,” I said.
“You never know with Con. He might come, he might not.” He added, “Don’t forget to bring your ring.”
“I won’t.”
Then we said good night, and it was a long time before I could fall asleep. I think I was afraid. Afraid that he was coming and afraid that he wasn’t.
