Page 27 of The Next Day


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“You’d better not have ended up like that, or I’d be offended you didn’t call me to come get you.”

“Well, not exactly that theatrical, but that’s what it felt like.” That wasn’t until after she’d thrown stuff at him and kicked him out, and then realized she couldn’t afford the place alone.

“It’s been one night. That doesn’t mean you’re giving anything up for this man.”

The breeze sent her dark waves in a chaotic spiral so she could hardly appreciate the gorgeous view. “Not yet. But I will. I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again. I’ll get so caught up in the physical side, I won’t notice that he’s a jerk. We should settle down and have kids right away because that’s what he wants. Or I’ll let him take the last of my cerulean blue because he has to nail that sunset where my landscape is fine the way it is. Or give up my Christmas because he can’t leavehisfamily.” She hadn’t even touched her coffee yet, too wired to risk the caffeine. “What if I do something really stupid and get engaged again?” Her eyes were wide, the scenery completely distorted.

Linking arms and steadying their pace, Tammy sighed, “Freya. Honey. I won’t act naïve and pretend you haven’t had enough lovers to not be so swayed by good sex.” Her mom’s cheeks burned red.

Freya stopped and took in extra air, the wind whipping her dress in a tangle around her legs. “I’ve had enough lovers to know it’s not supposed to bethatgood. Mom, I did things with him last night I would never even have thought of. I feel like I should write a book on the subject now to let others know everything they’re missing out on.”

Keeping her voice calm, Tammy said, “And what does Zane say about all this?”

“That he’s had a lot of time alone to develop some rather elaborate fantasies.”

Cheeks now as red as the hotel beach chairs, Tammy clarified, “I mean, is he looking for more?”

“No. He had a terrible divorce and never wants to get married again.”

“So what are you worried about?”

A nauseating wave rolled over Freya’s cheeks, “Even worse. What if I talk him into getting engaged? And then he’s resentful and I give up my own interests because I’m so caught up in him and he goes back into the military because I’ve spent all of our savings on a career that’s never going to pay off.”

Halting their walk, Tammy yanked back on Freya’s quickening pace, her voice sharp, “Freya. I love you girl, but your imagination has always gotten the better of you. Be the artist you are and experience the now. Feel what you need to feel. And when you’re satisfied, put down your brush. You can’t decide how you feel about the painting when you haven’t even finished it.”

“Wow, Mom, that was a nice analogy. I mean, I might have picked something a bit more germane, but…” She grinned a tease at her mother.

“Oh hush. I’m not the artist, you are. You figure it out.” Tammy bubbled over with self-effacing laughter, Freya’s mood lightening right along with her. “You will always be my independent daughter. No relationship is perfect; your father and I have had to compromise for each other, but we also build each other up. Why don’t you take things one day at a time? If he doesn’t build you up, then you end it.”

“Okay,” she took a steadying breath. Although she’d visited as often as she could, it had been tough living so far away. “I’m just done with the whole thing. You and Dad are so good together. I’m surrounded by all these people that are able to make it work. After three failed attempts at getting serious, I’m scared.”

“Of course you are. Trust me. When it’s right? You’ll know.”

Freya wasn’t so sure about that. She’dknownenough times to get engaged. But her mother was a hopeless romantic. Like Freya used to be. “Have you seen Lulu or Uncle Joe or Aunt Noelle yet?”

She shook her head. “They’re still over at the cabin with the rest of the wedding party. But I think most of the guests of the hotel are here for the wedding.”

“Really? There are some rowdy folks here. I figured there was some frat reunion or something.”

“Yep,” Tammy muttered. “Lulu and her fiancé’s friends. I talked with your Aunt Gloria after we arrived yesterday; apparently Lulu is a bit of a partier.”

Wincing, Freya paused for a sip of coffee to wash down that image. “Well this should be an interesting evening. Six o'clock?”

“Ceremony is at six. Shall we meet you at your room at five thirty? The ceremony will take place on the hotel lawn, then, from what I hear, all of those doors will open up to the dining room for the reception.”

As they strolled back toward the hotel, she watched as uniformed hotel employees were already starting to set up a few hundred chairs. It was a nice spot, but holy shit, there had to be three hundred guests coming. And she’d felt like her hundred-guest wedding had been big.

Resting his feet on the deck rail, Zane sipped his coffee and looked out over the lake, already alive with tourists escaping the sweltering cities downriver. Or, hell, these might all be wedding guests. Below, a few hundred chairs were being set up, a portable arbor, flowerpots holding down a red carpet. Fancy. Wonder how much this weekend set them back. Almost as overdone as his own wedding had been.

His phone buzzed on the table. Rising to his feet, he left the crisp morning breeze. The blankets were in a tangle on the floor, too far gone to be remade without starting fresh. Damn, Freya had been insatiable. He didn’t know it was possible to do it that much, and still want her again. After their naked room service breakfast, she’d left for a walk with her mom, and he’d wandered down to the giftshop and bought out their stock of condoms.

Remembering what he’d come in for, he picked up his phone before it went to voicemail.

Gritting his teeth, he almost didn’t answer. Shouldn’t have. And he’d been having such a nice vacation.

“Yeah,” he answered. It had either been that, orabout fucking time.

“Zane, dear. I’m so glad we finally connected.”