Rend (Riven 2)

“Now everyone will know you’re mine,” he’d whispered.

* * *

—

Tomorrow was Friday, and Grin would be arriving around noon, Rhys’s family a few hours later. Saturday was the wedding. I couldn’t believe it was finally happening. I’d been kind of a wreck for days.

I had been going in early to do a few hours of work on From Pianos to Paint before my meetings with clients. Things had gone better than I’d dared hope. It wasn’t just Theo’s money, and the money he’d drawn to the project—although that certainly didn’t hurt. It was watching Noé’s confidence and happiness swell almost as soon as he had a purpose.

It was being in touch with so many people who’d come from the same precarious situation as me and had made full lives for themselves alongside their struggles. It was seeing how excited our clients got at the prospect of having access to the kinds of resources they couldn’t afford on their own.

We had gone ahead and rented space in a nearby building that was zoned for multipurpose use. Theo, having recently turned his own apartment into a recording studio, had all the know-how we needed to craft a simple studio set up in one of the rooms. Others had every musical instrument that might be needed.

Noé had been in charge of setting up a darkroom. Imari’s onetime client Roger had set up the art studios and told us what supplies to stock. Angela, one of my clients from a few years back had worked with us to set up sewing machines for textile work. Another client suggested we use some of the money to open an account at a local art supply store so that clients could submit requests for what they need and get it right away if they were approved.

As of now, From Pianos to Paint was firmly within the auspices of Mariposa, but I was hoping over the next year or two to turn it into an autonomous organization. I’d been brainstorming fundraising ideas that could include work created by our clients.

It’d had me buzzing with excitement since the beginning, and now that we were getting ready to open the doors at the end of the summer, I got a thrill of satisfaction whenever I thought about it.

I did that. I made that happen. I’m helping people. I’m doing something good.

It didn’t hurt that Rhys could hardly contain how proud he was of me whenever I talked about it, even if he had to be sick of hearing about lines of credit for acrylic paint.

But now it was Thursday and both Rhys and Imari had insisted I take the day off. In fact, they’d wanted me to take the whole week off but just the thought of that much time to think about meeting Rhys’s family made me panic, so I’d refused. I was pretty sure Rhys knew I was working to avoid wedding planning, but he didn’t call me on it.

We’d been running around doing last-minute errands and making confirmatory phone calls all day and I thought that if I had to speak to another person or think about another wedding-related thing I would full-on scream. Rhys was only slightly better off, having gritted his teeth through a hundredth scroll through the weather forecast for Saturday, which now threatened a twenty percent chance of rain.

“It’ll be fine,” he muttered for the dozenth time. Then, “I can’t believe it’s been gorgeous every day for two weeks and now Saturday it might rain.”

“I can’t believe I’m marrying a guy who can’t even control the weather. Let’s call it off.” I collapsed onto the couch and threw my arm over my face.

Rhys flopped down next to me with a groan and put his head in my lap. “Oh well.” He sighed dramatically. “If it rains, I guess we’ll just have to reenact the ‘November Rain’ video. Do you wanna be Slash, Axl, or Axl’s bride?”

“Slash, duh. The bride dies, and you’re obviously Axl.” I tugged on his hair.

“Oh my God, Matty.” Rhys gasped in faux shock. “Did you just know a contemporary musical reference? Be still my heart.”

“Number one, that song’s not contemporary, it’s like as old as I am. Number two, you play that video at least once a month.” Rhys shrugged and started kissing my stomach. “I still don’t understand why they all start running around panicking and jumping into the wedding cake. The fuck is it, acid rain?” Rhys chuckled against my stomach. “You know we could just elope. Then the rain wouldn’t matter.” I stroked Rhys’s hair.

“We already did that the first time.”

I sighed. “Oh yeah.”

I tried to read in bed before we went to sleep, but I couldn’t concentrate, so I gave up and dropped the book onto the nightstand. Rhys rolled toward me and threw an arm over my stomach.