living covenant 03 - eternal covenant Read online

  I was pretty sure that was meant as an insult. “I did a standup routine naked and he was putty in my hands,” I replied, not missing a beat.

  “Zoe!” I was starting to lose track of which mother was screeching my name at this point. They both sounded the same.

  “Why doesn’t everyone have a seat over here?” Pemberley suggested, gesturing toward a circular couch in the center of the room. I trudged to the couch in question, frowning when Pemberley positioned himself between Aric and me. “I have some books here,” he said, ignoring Aric’s discomfort at being separated from me and leaning over Aric – he was practically sitting on his lap, which made me smile – so he could recover two binders from the table on the other side of my fiancé. “We obviously can’t do everything on such short notice. Because your wedding is small, though, I think you’ll be surprised at what we can pull off.”

  “I don’t like anything that has to do with birds,” I declared, earning a stern look from my mother. “They crap all over everything, and that scene you’ve got set up in the front window with those paper birds is terrifying.”

  “I see,” Pemberley said, squaring his shoulders. “I don’t think we’ll have to worry about you being opinionated, will we?”

  I scowled. “I thought that was a good thing?”

  “It is,” Pemberley said. “I’m not trying to say it’s not. You’re just … loud.”

  “You should try living with her,” Aric quipped.

  “I would suggest earplugs if you’re worried about that,” Pemberley said, not missing a beat. “So, let’s pick out a color theme first. What color do you want?”

  “I like black,” I said. “It’s my favorite color.”

  “Black is cool,” Aric agreed.

  “You can’t have black,” Mom said. “That’s the color of death.”

  It was also the color of my mood, but I kept that to myself. “I like black. Isn’t black supposed to be … I don’t know … sophisticated?”

  “If you’re going to a prom, yes,” Helen said. “If you’re marrying the man of your dreams, no.”

  I rolled my eyes. Where was a good monster threat when I needed one?

  “I suggest that with her coloring we can’t go with anything warm like reds or oranges,” Pemberley said, gesturing toward me.

  “That’s good,” I said. “I hate the color red.”

  “How about purple?”

  I like purple, don’t get me wrong. It seems a little overbearing for a wedding, though. “Can’t we go with a simple blue or something?”

  “I can work with blue,” Pemberley hedged. “Are you okay with blue, Aric?”

  “Whatever Zoe wants is fine,” Aric said. “I still can’t figure out why I’m even here.”

  “You’re here because this is your wedding, too,” Helen replied.

  “You’re here because I won’t have sex with you ever again if you leave me with these two crazy women,” I added.

  “That’s a much better answer,” Aric said. “Can we hurry along the choices, though? Zoe and I have a date in the hot tub and I really don’t want to miss it.”

  “I think your wedding is a little more important than the hot tub,” Helen charged.

  “Then I’m telling the story wrong,” Aric said, causing me to giggle.

  “You two will give me an aneurysm if you’re not careful,” Mom snapped.

  “I keep trying,” I said. “You’ve been using that threat my entire life. When is it going to happen?”

  “Sit there with your hands in your lap and shut up, Zoe,” Mom ordered.

  I dramatically threw myself against the couch back and stared at the ceiling. In two hours flat my mother and future mother-in-law had turned my simple backyard wedding into a blue nightmare complete with possible bird attacks.

  “Let’s talk about the cake,” Pemberley suggested. “We need to get that nailed down quickly if it’s to be ready in time.”

  “Oh, that’s good,” Mom said. “Zoe, what kind of cake do you want?”

  I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth and kept my eyes trained on the spot above me.

  “Zoe!”

  I snapped my head down. “You told me to be quiet.”

  “Don’t make me ground you,” Mom said.

  “I’m an adult. You can’t ground me.”

  “Do you really think I can’t make it so you have to stay with us until the wedding?” Mom challenged. “I’ll make your father guilt you until I get what I want if you’re not careful.”

  She clearly meant business. “Fine.”

  “What kind of cake do you want?” Mom repeated.

  “I saw a cool one at the grocery store the other day,” I offered. “It had sharks and octopuses on it.”

  “That did it,” Mom hissed. “You’re cut out of making decisions.”

  Finally! That was something I could get behind. “Does that mean Aric and I can go?”

  “Not yet,” Pemberley said, shaking his head. “You’re the bride and groom. You have a lot of important decisions ahead of you.” He patted Aric’s knee for emphasis, and I couldn’t help but internally laugh as Aric tried to shift away from him.

  “How about this cake?” Mom asked, her eyes bright as she lifted the binder. The cake in question looked like a hat – a really large hat.

  “Sure,” I said. Cake is cake to me. As long as I can throw some ice cream on it and eat as many pieces as I want, I don’t really care what it looks like.

  “What flavor?” Pemberley asked. “Do you want the standard white and chocolate?”

  “I think pure white is classier,” Helen offered.

  No way. “I want chocolate,” I interjected. “If I have to go through this farce of a selection process, then I want chocolate cake.”

  “But, Zoe, white cake is more visually appealing,” Helen supplied.

  “So what? We’re not putting it up on the wall as a decoration,” I pointed out. “I want chocolate cake.”

  Helen expectantly turned to Aric. “Son, what do you think?”

  “Oh, don’t even think of putting me in the middle of this,” Aric said. “If Zoe wants chocolate cake, she gets chocolate cake. It’s her wedding, even though you two seem to have forgotten that.”

  “But … .”

  Aric shook his head and cut off his mother off. “Chocolate cake.”

  “Fine,” Helen said, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “What about the menu?” Pemberley asked.

  “We have that covered,” I answered. “We hired that Middle Eastern restaurant to cater with our favorite stuff.”

  “Middle Eastern restaurant?” Mom cocked a challenging eyebrow. “You’re serving Middle Eastern food?”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Not everyone likes Middle Eastern food,” Mom pointed out. “What if you have vegetarians in attendance?”

  “We have several vegetarian entrees on the menu,” I replied. “What else have you got?”

  “People don’t go to weddings to eat kebabs, Zoe,” Helen said, choosing her words carefully. “They expect roast beef … and chicken … and potatoes. I think we should stick with the classics.”

  I considered arguing, but the notion of derailing the afternoon with a screamfest debating the merits of beef and baba ghanoush seemed a terrific waste of time. “You know what? You pick the menu. I’ll eat anything.”

  “I heard that,” Aric said.

  “That doesn’t seem fair,” Mom said. “I think you should have a tasting. Do they have time for a tasting, Pemberley?”

  “I can fit one in tomorrow, but we must be quick about it,” Pemberley replied. “I’ll pick ten entrees for samplers. We need everyone here at noon tomorrow.” He had his phone out so he could mark it on his electronic calendar. Mom and Helen followed suit.

  “Can Aric and I be done now?” I asked, using my best “let me leave or you’ll regret it” voice. “We trust you to pick out table linens … and silverware … and dishes. You k
now better than us.”

  It was a calculated risk. Aric saw what I was doing and immediately jumped in to help. “I think that’s a fine idea,” he said. “We obviously have no idea what we’re doing.”

  “I could’ve told you that,” Helen muttered. If she was trying to say it under her breath so no one could hear, she failed miserably.

  “Wait ... are you really saying that the bride and groom aren’t going to make any of the decisions?” Pemberley looked disappointed.

  “That’s what we’re saying,” Aric said, pushing himself to his feet and reaching for my hand. “My blushing bride and I need to … um … prepare for the arrival of a few guests. I’m sure you can muddle through without us.”

  “What guests?” Helen asked, narrowing her eyes.

  “Kelsey and Paris are arriving tomorrow,” I said. I didn’t have to make up a story for a change. It was nice. “We have to get their rooms ready.”

  “Are those the bridesmaids?” Pemberley asked.

  Helen nodded.

  “I’ll need them at the tasting tomorrow, too,” Pemberley said. “We will pick out dresses today, but they’re going to need to be immediately fitted for them tomorrow if they’re to be done in time.”

  I could already picture Paris and Kelsey’s faces when they heard that joyous tidbit. “They’ll be thrilled.”

  “Well, if you two have things to do, we’ll do all the heavy lifting here,” Pemberley said, lobbing a wink in Aric’s direction. “Although I think you do a lot of heavy lifting, don’t you?”

  Aric jerked me in front of him and wrapped his arm around my waist. “We have to go.”

  “I’ll see you soon,” Pemberley said, gaily waving as Aric dragged me out of the store. “We’re going to be best friends by the time this wedding occurs.”

  “I can’t wait,” Aric muttered.

  4

  Four

  “We need to run,” I said ten minutes later, following Aric as he stalked toward the ice cream shop. “We can’t stay here. They’re plotting our downfall, Aric. They’re just hiding it behind a big blue bow.”

  “Stop being dramatic.”

  “You know what this is? I’ll bet it’s like Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Our parents aren’t really alive anymore. They’ve been infiltrated by pod people, and those pods are plotting to destroy us from the inside.”

  “Uh-huh.” Aric didn’t exactly look as if he was prostrate with worry as he studied the Dairy Queen menu. “I need one medium twist dipped in chocolate and another medium twist dipped in sprinkles,” he told the woman at the counter.

  “I might need something heavier than that,” I said.

  “This is only the first round, baby,” Aric said, digging in his pocket for his wallet. “Continue with your alien rant. I’m listening.”

  “Oh, yeah, that,” I said, returning to the crisis at hand. “Do you think anyone has ever died from unwanted motherly attention?”

  Aric snorted as he accepted the cone dipped in sprinkles and handed it to me before gathering his own cone. I slipped my hand in his and wandered to a table in the shade so we could eat our ice cream in peace.

  It was a quiet mid-Michigan day. Summer was here and the weather forecast called for warm and muggy temperatures for most of the week before breaking in time for the wedding. I like sunshine and summer. I hate humidity and oppressive heat.

  “Can I ask you something, Zoe?”

  I turned to Aric, frowning when I saw the worried expression on his face. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s just … I’ve heard stories all my life about women going all bridezilla when it comes to planning a wedding,” Aric said. “You’ve been kind of … whatever … about it since the planning started. You want to marry me, right?”

  “Have you been snatched by an alien, too?”

  “I’m serious,” Aric said, adjusting his napkin so the ice cream didn’t drip on his hand. “You don’t seem thrilled about the wedding plans. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want you going crazy about stuff, but you seem disinterested.”

  “Do you want to know the truth?”

  “Not if you’re going to crush me,” Aric replied, causing me to roll my eyes.

  “I don’t care about the wedding, Aric,” I said. “I never have. When I was a little girl I never dressed up Barbie dolls and dreamed about what it must’ve been like for them when they married Ken. In hindsight that seems smart because Ken isn’t anatomically correct.”

  Aric snickered.

  “I was never a normal girl,” I continued. “I honestly don’t care about the wedding. I do care about the marriage, though.”

  Aric snagged my hand and brought it to his lips for a quick kiss. “I should’ve let you talk me into eloping,” he said. “I thought you were only saying that to make things better for me. I was convinced you were putting on a show. I should’ve searched my heart, because I instinctively knew you didn’t want any of those things, yet I told myself that wasn’t the case.”

  “It doesn’t matter now,” I said. “We’re stuck. Our mothers will kill us if we do anything to ruin their master plan. I never saw myself as the type of woman who would need a wedding coordinator.”

  “He’s weird.”

  “You’re just saying that because he has a crush on you,” I teased, licking my ice cream. “He wants you to marry him. That’s legal now. You’re not thinking of running off on me, are you?”

  “You’re not even remotely funny.”

  “Oh, you heard Pemberley,” I said. “Who names their kid Pemberley, by the way? That’s a weird name. Anyway, Pemberley says I must’ve snagged you with my humor. He clearly thinks you’re too hot for me.”

  “I’m too hot for everyone,” Aric said, grinning. “I think Pemberley was the name of the house in Pride & Prejudice, right?”

  I frowned. “How can you possibly know that? Isn’t that a chick book?”

  “Ha, ha,” Aric intoned. “I had to take English classes at Covenant College. It wasn’t all fun, games, drinking and sorority girls.”

  “You’re a pig.”

  “Don’t be jealous, dear,” Aric said, patting my knee. “I gave up all those sorority girls for you – and I’ve regretted it only once or twice.”

  “You’re a big pig,” I muttered.

  “Oink.”

  Despite our jovial attitudes, something serious occurred to me. “You still want to marry me, right?”

  “What kind of a question is that?”

  “That wasn’t an answer.”

  “Of course I want to marry you,” Aric said, making a face. “I’ve wanted to marry you since I met you.”

  “Let’s not go overboard,” I said dryly. “It’s just … I kind of got worried because you seemed worried. I thought maybe you were projecting your stuff on me in the hope I would call off the wedding.”

  “We are so messed up,” Aric said, chuckling. “Zoe, I don’t want anything in this world but to marry you. That’s the one thing I can say is absolutely necessary for my happiness.”

  “Mine, too,” I said, smiling as he leaned over to give me a sweet kiss. “I also want some of your ice cream.”

  “I knew that was coming,” Aric muttered, leaning the cone over so I could sample some of the chocolate goodness.

  “They need to come up with a way to combine sprinkles and dipping chocolate so they can make the ultimate cone,” I said.

  “I love how happy ice cream makes you,” Aric said. “Maybe I should get you one of the ice cream cakes here and call it a day.”

  “You jest, but I would totally love that,” I said. “Did you see the one in that side cooler with the turtle on it?”

  Aric laughed. “What is it with you and cakes that have sea creatures on them?”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  “Well, how about I get us our own private ice cream cake for the night before the wedding?” Aric suggested. “I’ll make sure there’s all kinds of sea creatures on it.”

 
“You had me at ice cream cake.”

  “I know,” Aric said, swiveling so he could look out at the park. “It’s a nice day. We should go for a walk before we head home. In fact, I … .”

  I was so focused on my ice cream it took me a moment to realize he’d stopped talking. “What’s going on?” I turned to follow Aric’s steady gaze, frowning when I saw three men standing at the edge of the parking lot. Dressed in jeans, they stood shoulder to shoulder, their arms crossed over their chests.

  “It’s kind of hot for jeans, isn’t it?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “They’re wolves, aren’t they?”

  Aric shifted a quick look in my direction before fixating on the men again. “How could you tell that?”

  I shrugged. “I guess it’s something I’ve picked up over the years,” I answered. “It’s not as if I can smell them, if that’s what you’re worried about. I still think that’s weird, by the way. I just … knew … when I saw them.”

  “Do you recognize any of them?”

  I turned my attention back to the men, refusing to cease my ice cream ministrations as I studied them. There was no reason to let good ice cream go to waste. We weren’t in any danger. The wolves couldn’t possibly be stupid enough to attack at a busy ice cream shop in the middle of the day. Even if they did, I’d handled a lot more wolves in much direr circumstances … and recently.

  “I’ve never seen any of them before,” I said. “Do you recognize any of them?”

  “I can’t be sure,” Aric said. “That one in the middle looks familiar, but I can’t figure out where I know him from.”

  I focused on the man in question. “That’s Billy Ray Cyrus.”

  “What?” Aric’s eyebrows flew up his forehead. “What are you are saying?”

  “He’s about to sing about an achy-breaky heart,” I said. “Seriously. He’s got a mullet. He’s wearing a wife beater tank top – and it looks as if today’s coffee is still on it, which is awesome. He’s wearing cowboy boots in the middle of summer, and he’s holding a jean jacket. Oh, and let’s not forget the mullet. It’s Billy Ray Cyrus.”

  Despite the tense stare off, Aric graced me with a genuine smile as he shook his head. “Every time I think I can’t possibly love you more than I already do you say something absolutely adorable and prove me wrong.”