Last Call (30 page)

Three things continued to dampen my spirits.

First was the must-have conversation that I kept putting off: letting my parents know I was bringing a date to the wedding. I finally broke down and called my father three weeks before the event.

"Hi dad," I chirped, when he picked up in his usual business tone.

"Hi honey, how are you?"

"I'm good, daddy. Actually, I'm pretty great."

"I'm interested. What's got you so happy today?"

I took a deep breath and began to tell him about Gage. "We've been seeing each other for about a month, but dad, this guy is different. I really like him. I know it sounds rushed."

"Are you calling your mother, Savannah, or are you making me do your dirty work?" he asked, somewhat stoic.

Of course he caught me. He knew darn well that breaking my mother in about a guy - a guy I was bringing home, no less - was the last thing I would want to do.

"Weeeelll…"

"Mmmhmmm, that's what I thought. You’re going to owe me for this one, sweetie."

"I know daddy, and I love you so much for it. Look, just tell her you don't know anything about him and that I didn't fill you in."

"So are you going to be avoiding all her phone calls for the next few weeks, then?"

"That's the brilliant plan." A small grunt that sounded suspiciously like a laugh came from his side of the phone. "I know it's not the mature thing to do, but I don't want her ruining this for me. Not yet."

"Savannah, your mother only wants to see you happy, honey. She isn't going to try and ruin your relationship. You know, if you two would just
talk
to each other more, maybe I wouldn't have to be the go-between guy for you."

"I know she means well dad, but it just never comes out that way. Gage isn't a country club by product, and therefore in her mind he won't be good enough."

He sighed heavily then. "I know. Since Mary Anne announced her wedding, your mother has moaned and groaned about how it should be you or how you should come home and marry someone richer and better to show them up. She certainly forgets how Livingston tossed you aside and broke your heart."

The last bit of his speech was said with enough anger to be deadly. Sometimes I forgot how much it hurt my father when Daniel and I broke up. He had been close to the Livingstons before Daniel called it quits with me. After, once we discovered he and Mary Anne were together, my parents’ friendship with them was lukewarm at best. I hated that my little teenage relationship had put such a barrier into a twenty year old friendship.

Before I could say anything else, the intercom on my father’s work phone went off. I heard his secretary Marla speaking through the phone.

"I've got an appointment, Savannah. I’ll see you on the thirteenth, correct?"

"And Gage," I reminded him quickly.

"Yes, and Gage. I’ll tell your mother to expect company."

"We're driving over early in the morning, so we should be there by dinner. Love you."

The second problem was quite perplexing. Sara, Candace and I began to get the eerie feeling we were being watched. It was Sara who initially noticed the strange car parked a few houses down from ours on a daily basis. The golden sedan was parked in front of one house one day, and another the next. Ordinarily it wouldn't have seemed like much, if only it didn't keep changing places.

Couple that with coming home to broken lights around our house and the odd amount of ‘blocked calls’ we were all getting on our cells, and we were starting to feel paranoid.

Candace started to let Tony, her now-official boyfriend, stay with us most nights to help calm our nerves. The police said that although it seemed strange to us, it was probably just kids playing around (the lights) and possibly a door to door salesperson that we hadn't seen (the car) and for us not to worry too much. The officer’s exact words were, "This is a nice neighborhood, so you ladies should be very safe here." They did say they would step up their nightly patrol "just in case".

Regardless, Gage and I weren’t taking anything lightly. After the incident with his car, he was beginning to think that someone truly was after him and was therefore screwing with me.

Three weeks before the wedding, he made me stop coming to the bar at night alone. That caused our first argument.

"Gage, I'm a big girl and I'm not going to sit around my house every night with nothing to do!"

"Please Savannah, don't argue this with me. If there’s someone out there watching you, the best time for them to hurt you would be at night when you’re heading here to see me. I can't protect you if I'm not there."

"Thank you for the concern. I truly adore you when you worry about me." I leaned over and kissed him lightly before finishing my thought. "But I have no intentions of missing out on our bar nights."

"Damn it," he snapped, causing me to jump. He turned his back to me, placed his hands on his hips and sighed deeply. "Do you have to be so stubborn about this?"

"Hey, hey," I crooned. I stood and wrapped my arms around his waist. Resting my cheek on his back, I tried to soothe him. "Tell you what - if you're that worried, I'll stop coming up here by myself. I can usually convince Sara to come, or I can just stop for a week or two and see what happens. I don't want to fight with you about it, though."

He twisted around quickly and hugged me tightly. "I don't want to fight with you either, and I hate the idea of not seeing you as often as I can. Let's just keep an eye on things for the next week, okay?" I agreed reluctantly.

After we talked with the police, all the car sightings, broken lights, and eerie feelings of someone following me stopped. Maybe the cops were right and we
were
just being paranoid.

The week before the wedding was my last art class for the summer. We were tasked with doing a final art project and I decided to sketch Gage behind the bar doing what he did best.

I headed into The Painter's Palette mid-week to grab what I needed for sketching over the weekend. The project was due Monday, the week of the wedding. Ryan, whom I'd seen several times at The Garage, called out to welcome me to the store.

"Hi Ryan," I called back; walking to the sketching supplies for a charcoal block.

"Grabbing supplies for your final art project?" came Ryan's voice from close behind me.

I looked over at his eager face and grinned. "How’d you know?"

A slight flush covered his face and he pushed his hands deep into his pockets.

"I guess you guys have other students coming in this week for stuff."

"Yep, that's right," he agreed. "Can I help you get something specific? What do you plan on doing?"

It was my turn to flush. I didn’t know why, but I didn't feel right telling him I was going to sketch Gage. Perhaps it was the puppy dog eyes he always gave me when he saw me, or the way he once asked me for coffee and I’d turned him down. I just didn't want to rub Gage in his face.

"Oh, I'm sketching a friend. I'm really excited about it. I've enjoyed learning some new tricks in this class for capturing live models," I went on enthusiastically. "Hey - can you help me find a canvas large enough?"

"I’d be happy to help you. Let me show you everything we have. Oh," he crowed, stopping directly in front of me as I began to follow him. I almost bumped right into his chest when he turned around to face me. "We have some very cool new tools if you plan on doing a charcoal drawing. Right over here."

So I spent almost an hour walking around The Painter's Palette letting Ryan show me
everything
they stocked, because of this irrational idea that I would hurt his feelings if I said no.

The third issue that came up was the voicemail I received from Spencer later that night, asking me to call him so we could talk
before
we ran into each other at the wedding.

Putting on my big girl panties, I finally returned his call while Gage was at work on the Saturday before the wedding.

"Savannah?" he answered; his voice excited and possibly a little shocked.

"Hi," I started, but it came out small and weak. I cleared my throat and began again. "Sorry it took me so long to get back to you. I've been…" I suddenly stopped speaking, because there was nothing I could rightfully say. Busy? Avoiding you? Scared?

"Let's not start this conversation out with lies Savannah, okay?" he hinted, and I clutched the phone tighter in my fist.

"Okay then, what did you want, Spencer?" I asked. I decided not to beat around the bush since it seemed he wanted to be so open about everything.

"Obviously when I first called you a few weeks ago, I'd just played golf with your father. Your mother hit me up at dinner that night, asking me all about my plans and relationships."

Mortified at my mother’s behavior, I listened as he continued. "I was under the impression that perhaps you'd been asking about me and then I remembered your mother. No disrespect, of course," he chuckled, and it made me smile.

"Of course," I grinned. After all this time I was glad that we could still agree on things. It was like a small flame that continued to burn between us.

"I suppose I should say I was
hoping
that you’d been asking about me."

For the life of me, I couldn't speak. Damn my mother and her meddling with Spencer. If she knew about the past and our secret relationship, she would
never
have mentioned my name to him. Or maybe she would have. To her, he might just be another big fish who got away.

"Oh God, Spencer…I am so sorry she bothered you. Look - I'm seeing someone. Actually, I should tell you that I'm bringing him to the wedding. My mother was just flipping out about making sure I had a date for the wedding, and I guess she latched onto you."

"Didn't she know you were seeing someone?" he asked. His voice was even toned and betrayed no emotion.

"No, I've kind of kept her out of the loop," I lied. I figured lying was better than letting him know it was a newer relationship, which might translate into ‘easily torn apart’ in Spencer's mind.

"So you're still playing that game, huh?" This time his voice wasn't so even, and I heard the bitterness. "Some things don't change."

"Spencer…" I chided.

"I miss you, Savannah. I told you in my message that being back in Charleston is filled with memories of you that I thought I’d already washed away. I was hoping we could try to work things out."

"I'm sorry Spencer," I said, trying to think of something better to say.

"Will you at least save me a dance at the wedding? Maybe we can talk. We've got history - you and me, kid."

You and me, kid.
That was something from our past, from our relationship, and tears sprang to my eyes at the mere mention of it.

"I gotta go Spencer. I'm sorry. I'll see you next week." I hung up the phone, buried my head in my pillow and let the tears fall. How was I ever going to face him at the wedding?

Thursday - June 13, 2013

Wedding Weekend

Meet the Parents

"Who was the crazy person who said we should leave at six o’clock in the morning?" I yawned and handed Gage my suitcase to load in the trunk.

"That would be you, sweetheart. I suggested flying, if you’ll remember."

"Flying - and miss a road trip? I love road trips. It's part of the fun of traveling."

"Whatever you say, sleepy." Gage popped his head out from behind the trunk and asked, "Do you have everything?"

"Yep. Just let me grab the drink cooler and we can head out." I walked to the door where I left the cooler, my purse and a throw blanket. I locked the door and threw the keys at Gage as he met me at the front porch.

"Coffee and doughnut stop first?" he asked as we backed out of the driveway.

"God bless you," I mumbled gratefully.

The closer we got to South Carolina, the tighter my chest felt. Gage made the long drive enjoyable, but no matter what we talked about I couldn't get past the thought of having to see Daniel later that night.

"You want to talk about it?"

"Huh?" I muttered.

He reached for my hand and wove his fingers through mine. "You've been staring out the window in silence for almost an hour now. You look pensive. You want to talk about it?"

"Oh Gage, I'm so sorry. I don't mean to be poor company." I turned to him and plastered on a big fake smile.

"You could never be poor company, Savy. I know this weekend won't be easy for you and I want you to know I'm here for you, as someone who cares about you and wants to help you get through it. Let me be your friend here for right now."

I snapped up at the word
friend
. "You want to be friends?" What the hell?

"We were friends first, were we not?"

"No we
weren't
friends. You irritated me beyond reason with your snide dating remarks…" I grumbled.

"Oh, so
now
the truth comes out. You know you loved me at first sight."