Page List


Font:  

Grace frowned. "I suppose we could squeeze them in," she began cautiously, “but it's going to crowd your dance floor. And just because we can set up tables doesn't mean you'll be able to accommodate more than twenty extra people at this point, remember? We went over that with the caterer. There's a wiggle room for another twenty plates, just in case your existing guests bring plus ones they didn't disclose, but those bodies are already accounted for in the existing seating chart.”

The bride's mother huffed, the foxtails behind her spreading like a luxurious fan. “See? It can't be done!” She was technically correct, but Grace could tell at that moment her sharp words weren't helping anyone, least of all her daughter.

She cleared her throat, continuing. “If you want to add tables, I'm just the venue manager, I'll do whatever you want. But if you’re making room for another fifty or sixty guests, you won't be able to feed them. You don't have favors made up for extra tables, and you don't have floral arrangements. So if I were your planner, I would be cautioning you against it."

The bride's mother threw up her hands, and Grace had a feeling things hadn't actually been settled with the in-laws to be. The kitsune nodded, looking positively wretched, on a day when she should have been glowing with happiness.

“We can make it work,” she went on, because stars knew she had pulled a rabbit out of a hat on more than one wedding in the past, magicking up the undoable. “We can pull apart your floral arrangements and make small bouquets for each table, I can instruct the caterer to quarter her cake slices. The servers can decrease the amount of food everyone gets to stretch it. We’ll do it if we have to, we can make the best of it. I can call one of the local food trucks, they all do events, so when people are still hungry, which they will be, you can have another round of food that arrives later. That’s over your budget, but your budget was made to the guestlist, so it’s a consideration.” She threw the older kitsune a silencing look, uncaring that she was vastly overstepping.

The young woman worried her full lower lip with sharp teeth as she thought.

“We spent a long time picking out the flowers,” she said finally. “Ume for faithfulness, tsubaki for pure love. Carrying a bouquet is a Western tradition, so we’re already doing things our own way. I-I don’t want to pull apart the arrangements.”

Grace sighed, watching the young woman swallow with difficulty.

"Can I give you some advice?" The words had tumbled out of her mouth before she could bite them back, and her cheeks flushed pink the instant they were hanging in the air between her and the tear-streaked kitsune. "You need to talk to your fiancé. Not just about this, but, you know, you just need to be able totalkto him. When you're unhappy in two years because you've been bottling everything up since this day, it's all going to come rushing out and it's a lot harder to fix things when you've let them break beyond repair. Just . . . call him right now and let him know that he needs to tell his motherno. This is the guest list you wanted, end of story. If they have people that weren't invited today, you could have another small get together for them in a few weeks, give us a call, we're happy to host it again for you. I always offer returning customer discounts. But today isn't about people who there's no room for, it's not about your mother-in-law feeling slighted because she couldn't invite her entire town, and it's not aboutyourmother telling you that you need to stand up for yourself.” The older woman sniffed, but Grace plowed on, undeterred, wishing she’d given the same advice to countless brides over the years, wishing that someone would have givenherthe advice all those years ago.

“It's about you and your fiancé and the choices you're making for the rest of your life. You’re choosing to be together, butstayingtogether is hard work. No one tells you that, they make you think that love has to be enough. It’swork. You have to talk to each other, you have to fix things before they break. And that takes maintenance. Talking is maintenance. So go talk to him."

As soon as the words were out, she realized what a hypocrite she was.

She'd spent half a decade of her life mostly miserable, unable to articulate how broken her relationship was, unsure of how to fix it, unable to ask for help. She spent all her time creating the illusion of happily ever afters for other people, while ignoring the shambles of her own relationship. She'd spent the last several months falling irrevocably in love with this sweet, preciously awkward man, and she hadn’t told him how she felt. She hadn't even expressed that she wanted him to stay.How can you blame him for leaving, when you've not told him the way you feel?

The next several hours passed in a blur. Her lungs and stomach had braided together, and her heart was knotted somewhere in the middle. It wasn't until the kitsune stood beneath the floral arch with her handsome fiancé, their hands bound together in silk as they spoke the words of their culture, that she realized the gravity of what she had done. Or, she corrected herself, more importantly, what she hadnotdone.

She hadn't told him the way she smiled unconsciously every time she thought about his soft little chirps, nor about the way she stroked her arms all afternoon on the morning she woke up with a thin coating of his wing dust on her skin. She hadn't told him how hilarious she found his introverted panic, nor how breathtakingly brave he was for trying to make friends in his crowded lab, for facing crowds with her every weekend, gripping her hand as tightly as he could without causing her injury. She hadn't told him how much she loved burying her face in the thick ruff at his neck, or that being held in his arms as he flew from the farm to his house was the most terrifying thing she'd ever experienced in her entire life and she would be happy to walk everywhere for the rest of her days.

She hadn't told him how sweet his care and consideration was, nor how attractive he was when he spoke about his work. She'd never let on that she'd wanted him to stay, that she wanted to see where their relationship might go if it had room to breathe and grow; wanted to see how deeply she could fall in love with him. She hadn’t been looking for love, but something special had, in fact, dropped out of the sky.And you're going to let him just fly away without a fight.

"No, I'm not," she whispered. "I'm not."

Caleia had squeaked out a halfhearted protest when Grace plunked the headset on her shiny, sable hair. The cocktail hour was already underway, and the caterers had already set up the dinner service. The photographer was busy with the bridal party, the cake was placed, the flowers were fragrant, and there was nothing left for her to manage.

"I-I have something I need to do. I have something I need to say to someone, and I need to go right now."

Caleia threw up her hands. "Can you at least come back? I don't know what the hell I'm doing!"

"Oh, you do too. You just like playing dumb. Just be bossy, that's what you're good at! If someone needs something, figure out a way to get it for them, it's as simple as that. I'll definitely be back."

The sight of the dark forest looming ahead of her once she'd pulled past the dark barn and run across the unlit field made her heart hammer in her throat.It's only a little ways in. It's only a little ways in. You know what trees is his, just don't stop until you get there.

She realized the folly of her plan when she arrived at the base of Merrick's tree unmolested, looking up, and up, and up. She would need toclimbthis staircase, for the first time, the most daunting prospect she'd ever faced. Grace didn’t consider herself to be too terribly out of shape — she got her daily steps in at the farm and she wasn’t much of a couch potato, the the non-stop spiral of the endless upward climb had her panting by her third circuit of the wide trunk, the buzzing hum of the electrical cables running up the insulated tubing not enough like the sound of his buzzing to motivate her.You’re joining a gym. As soon as the new week starts, your ass is joining a gym.A glance up showed her how far she still had to climb, and in the end she slumped in defeat. His face appeared over the edge of the balcony when she dialed his mobile number, peering down at her in wonder before he swooped off the railing like a giant bat.No, not a bat. Like a giant moth.

"What are you doing here?! I thought today was the wedding!"

She was still panting, wisps of curls pulling from her updo to frame her face, and she didn’t need a mirror to know she splotched red and that her hair resembled a poodle.

"It is. It is, but-but I needed to tell you something."

Her mouth ran dry, her jaw working and no sound coming out, Grace wondered if she'd come all this way only to chicken out when it counted.What is wrong with you!? It's time to leave the Dumb Bitch condominium behind!

"I-I don't want you to leave. That's what I came to let you know, Ihadto let you know. I don't want you to leave when your program ends. I know there’s a job in South America, I know they’re probably going to recruit you, but I want you to stay. I know that's selfish, and I know you'll probably say no, but if you left and I hadn't told you, I would regret it forever.”

His mouth was hanging open, his antennae plastered to the side of his head, and he gave a small chirp in response, but she pushed on.

“I don't want you to leave. I love spending time with you, and I love the way you laugh and your little chirps and your silly antennae." Tears were running down her face, but she still laughed at the way he huffed at the affront. "I know it's selfish, and I've known from the beginning that you were going to leave, and I shouldn't have fallen in love with you, but I did, and-and I want you to stay. That's-that's it. That's what I came to say."

Merrick threw up his hands in confusion. "What are youtalkingabout?! I-I’m going to finish my dissertation here. I decided that about a month ago, I told you about it! Were youlistening? I've been abd for so long, and this is such a nice program and it’s a really nice school, and the people here . . . the people are actually nice. I want to finish it up here and see if I can get a position. When did I tell you I was leaving?"


Tags: C.M. Nascosta Cambric Creek Fantasy