“We’ll talk about it later,” I promised. “Go, have fun. I’ll see you soon.”
“Get off the phone, and come play, boy!” Dad called in the background. “My baby girl can’t save you. Stop your sobbing to her.”
“Fucking hell,” he whisper-groaned as several guys in the background started laughing. “I love you this much, Lucy Thornton. I love you this fucking much.”
And my heart was one big puddle of mush because of it. Harris loved me enough to put up with my dad for an entire afternoon because he knew it would make me happy.
Chapter 7
Lucy
November
“I need you to decide if we’re having a band or a DJ for the reception,” Mom said as she handed over a list. “These are the three DJs Emmie says will do a good job.”
I dropped my cherry Danish onto my plate and wiped my hands before taking the list from her. When she had dropped by to take me out to eat, I had gotten my hopes up that she actually wanted to spend some time with me. Quality time anyway. Time where we didn’t talk about the wedding she and Natalie had become obsessed with and were giving me ulcers over. Some bonding time, where she asked what was going on in my life that didn’t involve making decisions about a wedding that seemed more and more like some kind of performance rather than my special day.
“And those names at the top are the three wedding singers Nat and I vetted a few months ago. I like the second name more, but Nat was more into the third.”
I grimaced as I read over the list. There weren’t just wedding singers and DJ’s names on there. There were at least twenty ASAP to-do items highlighted in orange, which I had learned quickly meant they needed a decision on now. “Why do you need to know if I want a white car to pick me up or a purple one? What does that have to do with anything?”
“There is an issue with parking at the venue. So we’re parking elsewhere and transporting everyone from the church to the reception in limos.”
“Why not just get a bus?”
Mom made a face. “That’s so tacky, Lucy.”
“But how many limos are we going to need? Have you and Natalie gotten the final guest list sorted out yet?”
“It’s a work in progress. Every time we get down to the number Harris bitched about, we realize there are a handful of other people that have to be invited or they will be offended.”
I bit my tongue to keep from saying something I knew I would regret later. Harris hadn’t bitched about anything. He’d just told his stepmom he didn’t want the guest list to exceed five hundred. That number was just to make me happy, because if given leeway, the moms would have invited over two thousand people. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t been relieved when he’d stepped in on that point. But the truth was, I was freaking out a little on the inside at the idea of five hundred people being at our wedding. The majority of those people were practically strangers to me. Why did they have to witness something so personal, so intimate and mine? What right did they have to be a part of that day with us?
But, as I had on everything else, I remained quiet. At this point, I didn’t even know why I was still keeping my mouth shut. Hell, by now, I wasn’t even sure why I was even needed. Between Mom and Nat, they could have planned this entire wedding without so much as a nod from me. Yet they continued to keep me in the loop, and by default, made my life a waking nightmare.
“I was just thinking of the cost, Mom,” I muttered.
She made a noise in the back of her throat. “You don’t need to worry about the cost. We’ve got everything covered.” Her phone went off, and she glanced at it but sent the caller to voice mail. Almost immediately, it went off again. “Damn.”
I caught a glance at the screen and saw it was Dad, but she sent it straight to voice mail yet again. “Is something wrong?”
She gave me a smile that seemed forced. “Nope. Everything is perfect. Or, it will be as soon as you get me the answers on this list.”
I wasn’t buying it. “Are you and Daddy still going to Paris at the end of the month for your anniversary?”
“Of course we are.”
“And you two aren’t fighting?”
She made an impatient noise. “Of course not.”
“So why aren’t you taking his calls?”
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“Because he’s being an ass. I told him I was meeting you today, and he got pouty because I told him he wasn’t invited.”
“But I would have liked seeing Daddy today.”