Page 44 of I Do, or Dye Trying
I had become more flexible and relied less on routine once I found harmony in all parts of my life, but I quickly realized that my laid-back attitude was harder to hold onto with so many big, exciting things looming in front of me. I fell back on my old routine to feel in control of my life and the myriad of emotions that fought for dominance in my brain. Which explained why Chaz and Meredith found me sitting on the floor in the supply closet of the salon taking inventory the Monday afternoon after we returned from our bachelor bash weekend.
Chaz crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at me with an amused expression on his face. “I thought that was supposed to be my job now. Am I not doing it good enough?” The crooked smile on his face told me that Chaz knew exactly why I was there and that it had nothing to do with being short on hair or nail products. That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to give him a hard time.
“If you start sucking more in other areas of your life and less at your job,” I said, zinging him, “you could use those lips for something more satisfying than grinning at me like a lunatic.” Instead of getting his feelings hurt, Chaz only smiled broader. He knew how much I loved him and saw through my snarktastic comment.
Meredith snorted then said, “He’s worse than I thought, Chaz.”
“His eyes are looking a little wild,” Chaz said to Mere. He unfolded his arms and offered his hand to assist me off the floor. “He looks a little hungry too.”
“I bet his nerves are making it hard for him to eat,” she replied, nodding her head.
“Good thing we picked up his favorite foods from the diner on the way over,” Chaz added, as they continued to talk about me as if I wasn’t in the room.
“Then feed me instead of fucking around like clowns.” I grabbed Chaz’s hand, and he groaned while he helped me to my feet like I weighed a half ton. “You better start working on your strength and stamina for when you and Kyle stop dicking around and really get todickingaround. What do you authors call words that are spelled the same but have multiple meanings?”
“Homonyms,” Chaz said patiently.
“I would’ve guessed versatile,” I paused for effect, “like Kyle.” I casually tossed that out there as I walked around my friends in search of food. I expected a big gasp or response from Chaz that didn’t come, which meant I shocked him silent, or he already knew. The blush on his face when he entered the kitchen told me he already knew, but how? Did he assume, did he ask, or perhaps he had firsthand knowledge? I was more than a little curious, but that took a back seat to my ravenous hunger.
I at least used utensils and a napkin as I devoured the pot roast dinner they brought me rather than just shove my face into the container or use my fingers. I hadn’t lost complete control of myself even though my riotous emotions had me in a tailspin.
“Let us help you work through some of this, baby,” Meredith said. “Maybe if you get it off your chest you can sort it all out and feel better. Normally, we’d let you internalize your feelings until you either work them out on your own or talk to us and let us help, but this is too important for us just to sit back and wait.”
“Really, dude,” Chaz said, sitting across from me at the small, round table in the kitchenette. “Get it all out so you can enjoy your week.”
“What has you worked up the most?” Meredith asked. “Is it having overnight guests at your house? Do you need help getting the bedrooms ready or anything?”
“Nah, that’s done.”
“You want us to help you plan meals while they’re in town?” Chaz asked. He could barely boil water, but I loved him for his offer.
“No, that’s under control too. We stopped at the store on the way home yesterday to stock up. We’re keeping it pretty simple because neither of our parents would want us to make a big fuss about them coming,” I told them. Mere and Chaz exchanged a look that said it was too late and the ship to Stresstown had already set sail.
“Okay,” Meredith said patiently, “are you nervous about meeting Gabe’s birth mom and his sisters?”
“A little,” I admitted. “I want Bonita and the girls to like me.”
“They’re not going to like you, honey; they’re going to love you,” Mere assured me.
“I do hope so, but I know it will be okay if they don’t,” I replied. “That’s not what has me worked up in knots.”
“Is there something wedding related that Mere or I could take off your plate? Do you need us to make phone calls to make sure that everything is going smoothly?” Chaz asked.
“No, I already did that this morning.”
“Then what is it?” Mere asked, sounding confused.
Up until that moment, I probably couldn’t have pinpointed what had me on edge until my friends helped me cross reasons to panic off my Reasons to Panic checklist. The real source of my struggle wasn’t related to the reunion, overnight guests, or even the wedding. It was something so far out of my control that I felt helpless and weak, which in turn made me want to control everything that I could in place of the things that I couldn’t.
“This is going to sound crazy,” I said in warning, but instead of looking leery they placed their elbows on the table and leaned in closer.
“We were born for crazy,” Chaz told me.
I could tell by their expression that they were expecting something a bit more lighthearted than Emory’s background and the reason he believed he was in Blissville. I felt sick inside for betraying Emory’s trust, but I had to explain why those “Wanted” posters hanging all over town scared the fuck out of me. My confession regarding what I knew about Emory received the same non-response as my announcement that Kyle liked to give and receive cock.
“But apparently, you both already knew that,” I said.
“Emory said he wanted to write books, but he knew shockingly little about the process,” Chaz told me. “I got the feeling he was covering something. I quietly did an internet search and read some articles about his past. I didn’t say anything because it was obvious he wasn’t here to hurt anyone, and I didn’t feel right gossiping about him.”