Toss the Bouquet (30 page)

“You okay in here?” I gestured to the dessert, and Crystal sighed again.

“Yeah. A little stressed.”

“Phillip's mom?” I whispered the words.

Crystal nodded. “Yeah. She called in the middle of our
dinner to tell me that she talked to my florist. She's taken the liberty of changing the flowers in my wedding bouquet.”

“W-what?” I couldn't believe I'd heard that right.

“Yep.” My sister took another giant bite and spoke with a full mouth. “The woman actually said roses are cliché. Cliché. Can you believe it?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I can't believe it. I sure hope you stood your ground.”

“I didn't know what to say without crying, so I just handed the phone to Phillip.” Crystal sighed yet again. “I only wish I was as thin as my patience right now.”

I couldn't help but laugh at that one.

She plopped the fork onto her plate. “Of course, if I keep eating like this, I won't be. They'll have to let the seams out in my dress.”

“It's not that bad, Crystal.”

“Wedding. Planning. Is. Stressful.” Just that quick she picked up the fork again and took another bite, pinching her eyes shut.

Tell. Me. About. It.

Her eyes opened and she stared at her plate. “I shouldn't feel so intimidated, I guess. I should stand up for myself. And I should have a maid of honor I can count on, one who shows up for stuff and actually acts interested. Sienna's not here, is she?”

“It's going to be okay, Crystal. I know it is. Everything will come out fine in the end.”

“I hope you're right. I only plan to get married once.”

“I know.”

She grew quiet for a moment, then looked into my eyes.
“I made a mistake letting Mrs. Havenhurst talk me into choosing Sienna, didn't I?”

I paused to think through my response. “Sienna is Sienna. Nothing much ever changes with her. I'm sure you felt pressured, and no doubt Phillip's mom sang her praises.”

“Yes, she did. And I wanted to believe every word. I really thought things would be different, that maybe she'd be able to focus on me. On the wedding.” Crystal took another bite, then spoke around the cheesecake. “Guess I was wrong.”

“Maybe she'll come around.” I tried to sound hopeful.

“Ooh, there's cheesecake in there?” Derrick's voice sounded from behind me.

“You girls are missing the party.” I turned just in time to see Phillip enter the kitchen with Derrick on his heels. “What are you girls doing in here?”

Crystal slid her plate in front of me and handed me her fork. “Thanks for the nibble of your cheesecake, Mari, but I'm not really that hungry.”

“W-what?”

She slipped her arm through Phillip's and changed the subject, talking about the weather.

Derrick watched as my sister and her fiancé left the room, then glanced down at the half-eaten cheesecake. “Um, that's not yours, is it.” He spoke the words more as fact than question.

“Not even.” I shook my head.

A smile lit his face. “Well, I hate to see good cheesecake go to waste. I say we split the rest of that piece.”

I nodded, excited by that possibility. “Great idea. I'll get a couple of clean forks.”

Derrick and I sat down at the kitchen table, and somehow he managed to turn my angst into laughter. The guy had a real knack for that. He shared the plans the guys had just made for Phillip's bachelor party. Then he shifted gears and started telling me about his recent trip to Haiti with an international mission team. I could see the passion in his eyes as he talked about a young man there he supported monthly, about how much he wanted to help him.

“I don't really talk about it much, but my parents' divorce really got to me. I was sixteen when it happened.”

“I'm so sorry, Derrick.” Seeing the pain in his expression, I longed to reach out and put my hand over his.

“I buried the pain in . . . bad behaviors.” He shrugged.

“Bad behaviors?”

“Poor choices.” He clenched his jaw. “I . . . well, I got involved in drugs, Mari. And drinking.” He paused and stared into my eyes, as if waiting for me to respond in shock or disbelief.

“You're obviously not the same person now. Something must've happened to change all that.”

“Yes, something definitely happened. It's been a long journey back from a tough place. And I never would've made it if Phillip hadn't been praying for me.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, he was there through it all, good and bad. Your sister's getting a great guy.” He paused and gave me a thoughtful look. “I've done all the talking. Sorry about that. What about you, Mari? What were you like as a kid?”

My dad happened through at that very moment and laughed. “I could tell you some stories.” And so, much to
my embarrassment, he did. Talk about humiliating. On the other hand, Derrick laughed in all the right places, and even made me laugh a time or two with his responses to Dad's crazy tales.

After my dad left the room, I told Derrick a couple of stories about my teen years, including a funny one involving a family vacation at a dude ranch when I was fourteen.

“Sounds like fun.” Derrick leaned in close, as if hanging on my every word. It felt good to talk about something other than the wedding.

“Crystal and I had the time of our lives on that trip.” I paused as the memories flooded over me. “You just haven't lived till you've traveled with our family. Things get crazy, trust me.”

“Your dad seems like a real character.”

“Oh, he is. He's perfect. Really. Best dad a girl could ask for. I feel so blessed.” As I spoke the words I thought about what Derrick had said earlier, about his parents' breakup. Maybe we'd better change the subject.

Turned out, I didn't have to. Our private conversation was interrupted when Sienna arrived. She must've sniffed out Derrick's cologne, because she bounded into the kitchen, all giggles and smiles. It looked like she'd been miraculously healed from her headache. She grabbed Derrick by the arm. “C'mon, best man. We're needed in the living room. The bride and groom want to give us our marching orders.” She seemed to narrow her gaze as she glanced my way. What was up with that? Surely Sienna didn't think I was treading on her turf . . . right?

Not that Derrick seemed pleased by Sienna's insistence
that he leave me. In fact, he gave me a “Woe is me” look as Sienna pulled him out of the room. I just offered him an “Oh well” shrug. Still, from the smile he gave me as he rounded the corner, I had a feeling I'd be seeing more of this guy, and maybe not just at the wedding.

Two days before the bridal shower and four failed attempts
at making the intricately designed teacup-shaped cookies, I finally threw in the towel. Grandma Nellie offered to help, but quickly gave up when she got the consistency of the royal icing wrong.

“Not gonna happen, Mari.” She waggled her finger at me. “We'll have to order some from a bakery.”

No way, Jose. When I'd revealed our shower theme to my sister, I had promised home-baked, teacup-shaped cookies. I had to deliver them, even if it killed me. Which it might.

In a moment of clarity, I recalled that Derrick's mother was a baker. It took some doing to locate the best man's cell phone number. After all, I didn't want my sister to know I had failed in the baking department, so I couldn't ask her. Instead, I went straight to Phillip, who was happy to share Derrick's contact information with me.

I called Derrick late Thursday evening, my nerves a
jumbled mess. He seemed a little surprised to hear from me, but from the pleasant tone in his voice, I could tell it was a happy surprise. When I explained my predicament, he offered to call his mother on my behalf. “She usually needs a couple of weeks' notice to fit in a new job. But she might make an exception if she's not already booked. I don't know if she has the ingredients, so she might need to make a run to the store.”

“I'll bring the ingredients. She won't have to do a thing.” I sighed. “Well, except the obvious. Teach me how to bake. And decorate.”

Derrick laughed. “Okay. I see how it is. I'll have her call you, I promise.”

Ten minutes later I received a phone call from Mrs. Richardson, who agreed to help me.

“How many people are you expecting at the shower, Mari?” she asked.

I swallowed hard. “Fifty to sixty.”

“Ah. A lot of work, then.”

“Yes, ma'am. If it's too much—”

“Nah, I do this all the time. You just come on over to my place tomorrow afternoon. And don't you dare bring any ingredients. I have plenty, trust me. We'll knock out those cookies. And if Derrick shows up, I'll boot that boy of mine right out the door. He wouldn't be caught baking, but he's notorious for eating the baked goods.”

I couldn't help but laugh at the idea of Derrick eating our teacup cookies.

I thanked Mrs. Richardson—who insisted I call her Nadine—before ending the call.

The following day passed quickly at the bank. Around two thirty I looked up when I heard a familiar voice traveling across the lobby. Derrick?

All the female tellers clustered around him like ants around a piece of candy. I fought the temptation to hide under my desk. Why I felt so embarrassed, I could not say.

Derrick glanced my way, then confusion etched on that handsome face. After politely weaseling himself away from my coworkers, he walked toward me, smiling. “Mari?”

“Mari Hays, personal banker, at your service.” I flashed a professional, over-the-top smile. “How can we help? Do you need a loan?”

He laughed. “No. I stopped by because I'm going to be filming a new commercial for your bank soon.”

“Hey, it's not my bank. I just work here.”

“You know what I mean.” He gave me a playful look. “It's the least I can do. Your manager, Bill Henderson, was my first Cub Scout leader. A boy never forgets his Cub Scout leader.” Derrick saluted me. Well, I guess it was a salute. Must be a Cub Scout thing. Regardless, it caused my already skittering heart to go bouncing down to my stomach and then back up again.

“Ah, so it all makes sense now. That's why you do commercials for Accentuate Bank.”

“Yes.” He raised his hand, as if taking some sort of pledge. “I, Derrick Richardson, promise to do my best to do my duty to God and my country, to help other people—especially my scout leaders—and to obey the law of the pack.”

“You have a pack?”

He laughed and put his hand on my shoulder. “You have a lot to learn, Mari Hays.”

I sure did, and he made a fine teacher.

Derrick excused himself to talk to Mr. Henderson. I went back to work, waiting on a final customer before preparing to leave for the day. Still, I could barely keep my mind on my work.

My shift ended when the lobby closed at three. Derrick was still deeply engaged in conversation with our bank manager. Well, that, and fending off flirtatious interruptions from a couple of my female coworkers. About the same time I had gathered my belongings, he shook off the giddy females and met me at my desk. “So are you headed to my mom's place right now for the baking extravaganza?”

“I am. If I can figure out how to get there.”

“I happen to know the way.” He gave me a little wink. “Want to hitch a ride with me?”

My heart flip-flopped. From the cubicle next to mine I heard my coworker, Shawna, give a little cough. I could guess her thoughts:
Say yes, girl!

And so I did. Five minutes later I was seated in the passenger side of his Dodge ram truck, headed to his mom's house in the Memorial area. Under normal circumstances I would've been a nervous wreck, but his carefree conversation kept me at ease, as always. In fact, I found myself so comfortable around Derrick that I started to wonder why I'd ever been nervous in the first place.

When we got to her house, he introduced me to his mother. Nadine didn't look a thing like her son. Where he was tall and solidly built, she was petite and almost as
round as the cookies we were about to bake. She was also covered, nearly head to toe, in powdered sugar. I even saw bits of frosting in her hair. Not that she seemed to notice or care.

She wrapped her arms around me in a warm—albeit messy—hug. “Please forgive me,” she said as she led the way to the kitchen. “I'd like to say I don't usually look like this, but I'd be lying.” A funny little laugh followed.

“It's true.” Derrick nodded and laughed too. “There's a white haze in the air all the time here, and it has nothing to do with the ozone layer.”

Sounded yummy.

Nadine gestured to several trays of adorable, baseball-themed cupcakes. “I'm just wrapping up an order for a Little League team. Let me put them away, and we'll get this party going.” She glanced at Derrick, her gaze narrowing. “You scoot on out of here. You're trouble in the kitchen.”