Diary of a Wedding Planner in Love (Tales Behind the Veils Book 2) (18 page)

Tuesday, March 4th

I knew he didn't feel well as soon as I opened the door. His face was flushed, his eyes glassy.

"Are you okay?"

He stumbled into the living room and collapsed onto the couch. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just coming down with something I think."

"That's not good. We fly in two days."

He waved his hand in my direction as if to shut me up. "I'll be fine."

"Well, let's just stay home tonight."

"Are you kidding me? And miss the parade? No way. I know how much you love this."

"Don't be ridiculous. If you're running a fever, you don't need to be out in the night air."

"I'm fine. I took some meds. They just haven't kicked in yet. You drive."

That's when I knew how sick he was. He never lets me drive. He still wouldn't budge on not going, though.

We found a spot right on the parade route. I stayed on the edge of the road, but Cabe leaned against a fence post back behind me, still close enough to talk but not like we were standing together. The medicine had helped some, but I could tell he still didn't feel well.

Just as the music reached us and the parade came into view, a big ole burly dude stepped right in front of me and completely blocked my view.

Definitely one of those times I wished I was bigger and male.

I tried to edge around him but couldn't, so I leaned forward and very politely said, "Excuse me, sir. I've been standing in this spot for quite a while, and I can't see with you in front of me. If you could just…"

He glanced over his shoulder at me and then back toward the approaching parade as he placed his hands on his hips and widened his stance, his elbows blocking me on both sides.

I was shocked and pissed. Why would a grown man purposely block my parade view?

The first float tossed a handful of beads toward us. The kids scrambled for the ones hitting the ground while I reached high to catch a strand. But Burly stuck up his arm and grabbed the necklace right before it reached me. Then he did it again—for every strand of beads that float threw.

"Dude!"

Burly said nothing, just smiled. Which pissed me off even more.

I felt Cabe's hands on my waist and his breath in my ear. "I'm happy to step in if you need me, but keep in mind I'm not one hundred percent tonight. Not sure how this would all turn out if it came to a fight."

I met Cabe's eyes for a brief second, and my heart tugged at the glassiness there. "You wanna go home?"

"No. Get your beads. Let me know if you need me."

I moved forward again, pushing my weight against Burly Dude to jump as the next set of beads flew. He reached above me again, blocking me and catching the beads. Then he laughed. The jerk actually laughed.

"Look, dude, I just want some beads. They'll throw enough for both of us. Can you not just let me catch a few?"

He looked at me with a sneering grin. "Back off, bitch."

Cabe grabbed Burly Dude's shoulder and jerked him away from the road before I even had time to react to what he'd said. The man stumbled backwards one step and drew back to swing at Cabe.

Cabe spread his feet wide with his fists curled at his sides. Locked and loaded.

"You wanna hit me in front of all these people, buddy?" Cabe asked him. "Go right ahead."

With Cabe drawn up to his full height, he had at least five inches on Burly Dude. Despite the guy's bulk, Cabe's shoulders were broader by quite a bit, and with his glassed-over eyes glaring and flashing, he made quite the formidable figure. The guy hesitated and looked around at the crowd surrounding us. Cabe leaned closer to him and lowered his voice. "Look here. Nobody disrespects my girl. So she's gonna stand there and catch some beads, and you're going to show her the respect she deserves. Otherwise, we'll probably both go to jail. Whaddya say?"

Burly Dude looked from Cabe to me and back again before turning to leave through the throng of people.

Cabe motioned for me to go back to bead-catching and then went to sit down on the bench behind the crowd. The next float sailed a huge mess of beads my way, and I caught them with one jump.

I couldn't concentrate on my haul, though. My mind focused on analyzing what he'd said.
My girl
. He'd called me his girl. Stood there in the midst of a raging fever and defended my ridiculous passion for beads. Why? Why must he be so damned confusing?

He slept as I drove us home, and he didn't protest when I led him back to my room and tucked him into bed. I made him drink a dose of cold medicine and brought some water for the nightstand.

His eyes were closed, but he reached his hand out and touched my leg as I stood there.

"I feel like shit," he said.

"You look like shit. I'm not sure you're gonna be able to fly anywhere."

"I'll be fine by then. I promise." He tugged at my jeans. "Come lay down with me, Buttercup."

My heart skipped at the tenderness in his voice. Gets me every time. I can't resist him.

I lay down beside him, and he curled his fevered body around me. The heat was stifling, so once I heard him breathing steady in deep sleep, I extricated myself from his tangled limbs and went to brush my teeth and turn out the lights.

I'm on the couch now and in a funk. I don't know what to do with this. I don't know how this will turn out. If Paris will be the best thing ever or the biggest mistake.

I wish I knew what's in his head. What he truly feels for me.

Am I
your girl
or are we
just friends?
Make up your mind.

Wednesday, March 5th

I wanted to leave work early today to pick up a few last-minute things before the trip, but by the time I'd finished the mound of paperwork and emails, it was a little after six.

Mama called soon after I got in the car, and I realized I never sent her the flight and hotel info. With all the
we're going-we're not going-we're going
over the last few weeks, I never got around to updating her. She didn't even know we almost canceled the trip.

"Bone jewer!" Her attempt at French with her thick, Southern accent was painful to the ears.

"
Bonjour
, Mama!"

"Well, are you gettin' excited? I'm excited, and I ain't even going."

I had a lot of feelings swirling around, but I don't know where excited came in on the list. Nervous seemed much higher at the moment. No need to share that with Mama, though.

"Yeah, this time tomorrow I'll be in the air." I tried to sound enthusiastic for her benefit, and a couple of tingly butterflies did a little dance when I realized what I'd said was true.

"I can't believe you'll be in Paris for your birthday. Am I gone talk to you? I've never not talked to ya on your birthday."

"I'll call you. Or you can call me. I'll have my cell phone."

"You all packed?"

"No ma'am. I pretty much know what I'm packing, but I still have to do laundry and get it all in the suitcase. Cabe says we should just share one suitcase since it's only a weekend. But I've gotta figure out how to get it all to fit. Or how to condense it down."

I wanted to take daytime and night-time outfits, and I'd need several layers for each because of the cold. I had no idea how to fit it all in half a suitcase.

"Take comfortable walking shoes. You'll probably be doing a lot of walking. Did you pack protection?"

When did this become a normal topic of conversation for my mother? Twice in a row? We've
never
discussed anything sexually-related unless you count her telling me my clothes were too revealing in high school and college. And yet, here she was asking if I'd packed protection in the same sentence with comfortable walking shoes. Both sensible, practical items, but still.

"Mama, don't."

"Now, Tyler, I'm not naive enough to believe you're gonna fly off to Paris with this man and not have sex with him. So just put my mind at ease and promise me you'll take some protection."

"I'm on the pill." I'd been on the pill since age eighteen, but I'd never told her. I braced myself for the torrent sure to follow, but she didn't break stride.

"Well, the pill don't do squat about diseases. This ain't no more comfortable for me to talk about than it is for you, but I'm not taking no for an answer. Promise me you'll take some condoms."

I really didn't think it would be necessary. One, I know Cabe had medical exams done soon after he found out Monica had been unfaithful, and two, based on his reluctance to have sex when we were getting along great, I didn't foresee it happening now.

But I told Mama I'd go buy some in order to appease her and make her stop talking about sex.

I decided that along those lines if I was going to have condoms in the suitcase ‘just in case’, I might as well have some sexy lingerie. I mean, how much would it suck if we get to Paris—the most romantic city on the planet—and everything's going great, Cabe professes his undying love, but we get back to the hotel and all I have is a box of condoms, a t-shirt and a pair of boxers?

So now my wallet is a couple hundred dollars lighter, but I have some beautiful intimates and matching bras and panties for every outfit I'm taking. Oh, and condoms.

Now I just have to stop writing in my diary and go figure out how to get all this stuff in half a suitcase.

Thursday, March 6th

Well, the people at Gate 23 got a little added entertainment just now. I can still feel their stares pricking me as I write.

Cabe and I had bickered back and forth all morning. Snippy. Snappy. Irritable. I know for my part, I got no sleep at all last night. I stayed up much too late doing laundry and packing. I should have started the whole process earlier in the week, but I think in the back of my head I wasn't certain we were actually going until last night. I didn't want the heartache of having to unpack if he changed his mind.

I'm pretty sure he still felt under the weather, despite his fever breaking yesterday. From the time he picked me up at my apartment, he was already bitching. He complained my clothes took up too much space in the suitcase. He complained the suitcase weighed too much. He got irate because I wanted to bring an extra carry-on for shoes. Then he got irritated that he had to wait while I tried to stuff my shoes into the overflowing suitcase to eliminate the carry-on. I knew it was frivolous to bring different shoes for every outfit, but I wanted to look cute. I can't wear boots or heels to walk all day, and I am not going out for dinner in sneakers.

Right from the start, this trip has been ill-fated, and if this morning gave any indication, it may not turn out quite the way I'd hoped.

We had just settled in at the gate when I remembered I didn't go online to book the Eiffel Tower like he'd asked me to.

"Damn, Tyler. I told you we had to book it in advance. That line will take hours. Great, just great. We have basically two days to see everything, and we'll be standing in line for half of one."

"So we skip the Eiffel Tower."

He whirled to face me like I'd just said we should hijack the plane. "It's the Eiffel Tower. The symbol of Paris. We're not going to skip it."

I cocked my head from side to side in agitation. "Well, fine. I'll go online and book it now. Oh, awesome. My phone has no signal."

"Use mine." He flung his phone at me and sat forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees and twisting his hands together as his left leg bounced up and down.

I pulled up the Tower site on his phone, only to find no available times during our trip. Great.

"They're sold out, but it's okay. We'll just see it from the bottom. We can't see everything in two days anyway."

"This sucks," he said. "We shouldn't even be going." He ran his hands through his hair and leaned back in the chair, his left leg still bouncing. Up and down, up and down, up and down.

"What is your problem? I've never seen you act like this, and I can't say I'm excited to sit next to you for the next ten hours if this is how you're going to be."

"Well, that makes two of us."

My mouth dropped open. "What did I do? Okay, so I wasn't ready when you got to my place and I forgot to book the Eiffel Tower, but at least I'm not acting like a total ass."

"You're an event planner, Tyler. How did you forget to book the one event I asked you to handle? I took care of the hotel, the flights, the museum passes. You had one thing to take care of. Well, two if you count packing. Three, if you count being ready on time. You struck out on all three."

All my stress and tension of the last few weeks boiled right up to the surface. I didn't care if people could hear us. I didn't even bother to whisper.

"Are you kidding me right now? You are so out of line. First of all, you had a travel agent book all that stuff for you, so it's not like you went to great lengths to make it happen. Maybe I have been a bit forgetful lately, but it's probably because I've been riding the Cabe merry-go-round. One day you can't get enough of me and the next you want me out of your sight. One minute you're all over me, and the next we're
just friends
. It's kind of hard to keep everything else straight when I'm being spun around in circles."

"Nice, Tyler. Nice. This is bullshit." He stood up, and I stood with him.

"Bullshit? You want to know what's bullshit? You offered me this trip for my birthday. I didn't ask for it. Then you had your momentary freak-out whatever the hell it was, but you came back and said you never canceled the trip because you still wanted to go. I offered to back out, but nooo. You wanted to take me to Paris. And now you're being a complete asshole and ruining the trip. Ruining my birthday."

"I should have canceled this damned trip. I knew this was a bad idea. "

"Then why didn't you?"

"Because I knew you wanted it, Tyler."

"
I
wanted it? This was your idea!"

"Because I know you. You want
this
. The sweep-you-off-your-feet grand romantic gestures. The warm, fuzzy movie moments that don't happen in real life. You want some prince to ride in on a white horse and rescue you. Well, that's not me. Hell, I can't even help myself right now, much less rescue you."

My mouth opened and closed a few times as I fought to find words and swallow tears. "I never asked you to rescue me. I never said I needed this."

He grabbed his backpack and slung it over his arms onto his back as he spoke. "Sure you did. A million times in conversations over the years. You have this guy built up in your head who will do all the right things and say all the right things. I'm not him. I can't be him. I want to make you happy. But I don't even know who I am right now. Where I belong. I can't do this."

His words stabbed through me like sharp daggers I didn't see coming. I was vaguely aware of the sudden silence of the people around us, but then they disappeared into peripheral darkness and all I saw was Cabe.

"Cabe, I know you're under a lot of pressure right now. But I'm not asking you—"

"I gotta get outta here."

I opened my mouth to protest, and he shook his head. "Just leave me alone. Please, Tyler."

He walked away, and I paused a moment, unsure of what to do next. I gathered up my bags to follow him, but I could hear Mel and Maggie's words in my head telling me to give him space.

I cannot believe he just stormed off. What the hell? I didn't ask him for this freakin' trip. I thought he canceled it. Which was fine with me. Where does he get off acting like I need him to take me to Paris? To rescue me? Give me a break. I didn't ask to be rescued.

This is ridiculous. I'm tired of dealing with it. He needs to figure out what the hell he wants and stop being all Jekyll and Hyde on me.

What if he acts like this in Paris? I don't even want to go if he's going to totally ruin the trip.

He better calm down before he gets back. We have a long flight to get through. If he comes back nice, I'll be nice. I can wait to talk later. At the hotel. When we have privacy. We have the whole weekend to talk things out. Even if we don't see a damned thing while we're in Paris.