Page 52 of I Do, or Dye Trying
I laughed at their antics and said, “I’m positive that we want you there and that you won’t be intruding.”
“Okay, if you’re sure,” Bonita said.
“We are,” Josh affirmed. “Rehearsal starts at five so how about you guys show up around three thirty or four?”
“We’ll be there,” Bonita said.
We exchanged hugs all around before we headed to Marla Henderson’s boutique to pick up our tuxedos. I was shocked that Josh waited until the day of rehearsal to pick them up, but he had absolute faith in Marla and her team. They had met when they filmed the wedding series for Channel Eleven News and became fast friends. In fact, each of his former cast members was involved in our wedding day.
Marla was excited to see Josh and even happier when our matching tuxedos fit us perfectly. Of course, she wouldn’t let us see each other. Waiting to see one another in our tuxedos on our wedding day was the one tradition we decided to keep. I had to admit that the charcoal gray color Josh insisted on looked perfect with my tan skin. I was positive it would be just as flattering against his fairer skin.
Josh and I stepped out of our dressing rooms at the same time and smiled. We looked happy and excited that our wedding was a little over twenty-four hours away, not hesitant or nervous. “What’s next on our errands list?” I asked Josh, knowing damn well he had one.
“A fast food drive-thru,” he replied. “How can anyone live on that pathetic amount of food? Baby, I need a juicy cheeseburger right away or I might not make it to the rehearsal dinner.”
“I know just the thing.” I took him to his favorite drive-thru and ordered him a burger, fries, and a milkshake.
“We’re going to be very happy together,” Josh said between ravenous bites of food. “I love a man who produces meat when asked.”
“Anytime, Sunshine. Anytime.”
OUR REHEARSAL AND DINNERthat followed went off without a hitch. A psychotic man with a revenge plot didn’t crash our event, and no awkwardness existed between the Wyatt and Gutierrez families. The two women didn’t try to outdo one another, and neither of them challenged the other’s right to be in Gabe’s life. It was wonderful that there wasn’t the female equivalent of a pissing contest over Gabe’s attention.It was just a beautiful night.
I woke up the next morning to find that Gabe was out of bed before me for the second consecutive day. He rarely woke before me and two days in a row had never happened. I was usually up and finished with my workout before he was up and moving. In fact, I typically woke him by holding a cup of coffee near his nose and lured him into joining me in the shower for his morning jolt of caffeine and cum.
I wondered if his early rise was due to his excitement about our big day, or because he wanted to spend as much time with his parents as possible. Another option might’ve been that he was trying to resist my charms and temptations. We said we weren’t abstaining from sex leading up to our wedding, but it felt right to save a little something extra for our wedding night.
Wedding night.Those were two words I thought would never apply to me, yet they did. I was hours away from marrying the man of my dreams, and I couldn’t keep the smile off my face as I dressed, brushed my teeth, and headed downstairs. I expected to find him in the kitchen or the sunroom with his mom like yesterday morning, but instead, he was in the garage wrenching on Charlotte with his dad. They hadn’t heard me come in the door and continued to talk.
“You’ve taken great care of her, son. I’m very proud of you,” Al said to his son. The pride I heard in his voice made me smile, and it looked like Gabe puffed his chest out a bit more than usual.
Every child born into the world wants to please their parents and make them proud; it is hardwired in our DNA. Some people have parents who love them unconditionally, and are their kids’ champions in every part of their lives. Others have parents who only love them if they meet certain criteria. Gabe and I both had parents who set amazing examples for us in case our kids turned out to be straight.
“You need to dedicate yourself to giving the same amount of care to all the wonderful gifts in your life,” Al told his son. I backed out of the doorway and eased the door shut when I realized that they were having a special moment.
“There’s my boy,” my mom said when I reentered the kitchen. “I thought I’d make your favorite crepes and sausage for breakfast unless you’re too nervous to eat.”
“I’m not nervous at all,” I replied then realized that I meant it. “There’s absolutely nothing to fret about.” I couldn’t recall a time in my life where I’d felt calmer. “Sausage and crepes sound amazing.”
I tried to help her, but she smacked my hands away and shooed me to sit on an island stool. My dad joined us a few minutes later when he returned from taking Buddy on a walk. We chatted about anything and everything just like we had my entire life and it was a beautiful way to spend the morning of my wedding. I realized how much I missed my parents and decided that seeing them once or twice a year just wasn’t enough, especially after the grandbabies came.
My mom sent me to round everyone up when breakfast was almost ready. I found Martina in their bedroom steaming non-existent wrinkles out of the dark teal dress she chose to wear to the wedding. I could tell by the number of pressed and steamed clothes hanging up around the room that she’d been at it for a while. I figured it was her way of working through her excitement and making the day pass faster.
I tapped lightly on the doorframe so that I didn’t startle her. “Breakfast is ready, and then it’s time for your pampering.”
“What pampering?” she asked.
“Oh, did I forget to tell you what I had planned for the mothers of the grooms?” I extended my arm out so I could escort her to the kitchen.
Instead of looping her arm through mine, she reached for my hand. “Yes, I believe you did, but I’m intrigued. What do you have in store for the mamas today?”
“I think I’ll wait and surprise you instead.”
“You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble,” Martina said an hour later when she settled into the pedicure chair with her feet soaking in the jetted basin and a mimosa in her hand.
“Josh, this is your special day, not ours,” my mom said. “You should be the one getting pedicures, manicures, and massages.”
I closed Curl Up and Dye to the public, but my special ladies were getting the works that day. Despite their words, I saw the pure enjoyment in their eyes when Dee and Josi worked their magic.