Page 13 of Maid of Dishonor
Neither of those feel very likely.
I feel another shot of nerves when I remember Wini’s face as she talked about Carter and I needing a kick in the pants, but I push that feeling aside. Dwelling on it will just stress me out, and it’s unlikely to happen anyway. So instead I grab my laptop and make a list of things Maya said she wanted help with. She needs someone to check out venues, pick a caterer and menu, and taste wedding cake options. So in other words, she basically needs us to go look at a few beautiful places and then eat some good food and have dessert after.
It’s a rough job, but someone has to do it.
As I look at photos of wedding venues, I can’t stop myself imagining what my wedding with Carter would look like in each of these places. There’s a vineyard with a beautiful vine-covered trellis—we could stand beneath it as we say our vows. There’s another place, a rustic barn—which probably isn’t actually all that rustic—that would be beautiful if we lit it with nothing but string lights. Even the more traditional ballroom at a nearby hotel could be pretty with some touching up.
I flop back on the couch, huffing in frustration at all the mental images of Carter and I tying the knot. “Give me a sign,” I plead with God, the universe, or whatever else is listening. “Should I go for it with Carter?”
Because right now I’m just sort of…stagnant. But I want to get married. And I want a family.
“Preferably in that order,” I say to myself as I think of Maya.
I sigh and shut my computer, setting it on the floor next to the couch and then eyeing my latest read from the tiny end table. I’ll wait until Carter gets here to figure out the wedding stuff. I need to think about something else for now—something that won’t remind me of my impending spinsterhood. I debate between the book and my phone for a second, and then I decide to call my dad, because it’s been a while since we talked.
“Hi,” I say when he answers.
“Hey, Sammy,” he says, his voice warm even over the phone.
“How’s Washington?” I say.
“Eh,” he says, which is pretty much his response every time I ask. “I’d love if the company built another office someplace sunnier and less drizzly. I’m ready to come back to St. Louis.” Right now he’s overseeing the formation of a new branch for the company he works at, and even though he likes his work, I can always tell he’d rather be here.
“Well, when you get back to town I’ll come over and we can cook dinner,” I say, trying to cheer him up.
“Sounds like a plan,” he says, and I picture his smile, wide and infectious as it spreads over his face. “I need to hop off right now though, Sammy.”
“That’s fine,” I say quickly. “Send me some pictures of the ocean if you get a chance?”
“Will do, kiddo. Love you!”
“I love you too,” I say.
“Oh,” he adds. “Before you go—did you visit your mom on Saturday?”
I swallow, the air suddenly thickening around me. “Yeah,” I say, staring at the floor as I speak. “I went.”
“Good, good,” he says distractedly. “How did she seem?”
I shrug. “About the same, I guess?”
“All right,” he says, and I picture him nodding. “Gosh, it’s so great that she’s got such good care. Okay. Well, I’ll talk to you later, Sammy. I love you!”
We hang up, and then I stare aimlessly up at the ceiling, my mind pinging between my mother, my father, and Carter.
My dad is so positive all the time, even when he has every reason not to be. And I want to be like that, I do. But I don’t know how, and I never have.
So I turn my thoughts to Carter instead.
What am I going to do about that man?
Four
Carter
When I getto Sam’s apartment after baseball camp, she’s crying. And they’reLevel Threetears.
That’s right; Sam has different levels of crying. So buckle in, folks, and let me be your tour guide as we explore this unique creature in her natural habitat.