“Because you’ve only been together for two minutes,” Jed mutters under his breath.
I frown. Jed and I have been on much better terms over the last few months. I’ve even started considering him a friend. But he seems gloomy tonight. If I didn’t know better, I’d say news of my engagement might be too big a pill for him to swallow.
I dismiss his sulking and focus on Henry. “So if our wedding cake is made of cheese, you’ll eat it?”
“Oh, I’ll definitely eat it,” he teases, with a wicked glint in his eye that tells me he’s not talking about wedding cake.
I give his ankle a playful kick as my face flushes. “Good, I’ll tell Jill.” I spent two hours on the phone with Wolf Hotel’s event planner yesterday. It was overwhelming, to say the least, and I think she sensed it because she gave me an easy and fun homework assignment—set up a Pinterest board with wedding ideas.
“Who’s Jill?” Mama asks.
Here we go. “Our wedding planner.”
“You don’t need one of those pretentious fussy bodies,” she scoffs, waving me off. “They cost a fortune and all she’ll do is take over your wedding.”
“Imagine that,” I force out through clenched teeth.
Daddy clears his throat, and Henry presses his lips together to smother his smile.
“No need, anyway. I’ve already got Peggy Sue’s niece lined up to make the cake—”
“Let’s leave all that wedding business for after dinner,” my father cuts in, his uneasy gaze on me as I silently fume.
But, as usual, Mama’s not listening to anyone but herself. “She’s making you a fruitcake. A good, traditional choice.”
“I hate fruitcake!” I snap, tossing my fork down. It lands with a clatter. “Peggy Sue’s niece is not making our wedding cake.” I can’t take another minute of this. It has to end now. “Angela, Joy, and Diana are not my bridesmaids. And I am not riding to my wedding in a wagon driven by the Amish man who lives down the road!” I may as well lay it all out on the table. “We’re not getting married in Greenbank, Mama.”
Silence hangs like a heavy curtain around the dining table as anxious glances flitter toward Bernadette, waiting for her reaction.
Her face is a mask of shock, as if my words have slapped her across the cheek without warning. As if she couldn’t foresee this. “What do you mean, you’re not getting married in Greenbank? Of course you are. You’re a Mitchell. This is your home. Your family is here, your congregation is here!”
Her congregation, that I’ve been indoctrinated into from birth, not by choice. I haven’t been to church once since I left Greenbank. “We’re getting married in Alaska,” I say calmly. I don’t care if we’re married in a church or a reception hall or in a damn field, but I leave that part out for now.
“No way,” Jed blurts, his expression filling with excitement. “We’re invited, right?”
“Unfortunately,” Henry says before gulping back a mouthful of wine.
“Roger!” Mama glares at my father. “Talk some sense into the girl!”
Daddy sighs with resignation and pours himself more wine. “Abbi’s got plenty of sense.”
A wildness flickers in her eyes as they dart around the table, searching for allies, realizing she has none. At least, not ones who will step in to involve themselves so blatantly.
“I’ll start the coffee pot.” Celeste is on her feet quickly to collect empty plates.
“I’ll help.” Laura scurries behind her.
I take deep breaths to try to calm myself. The last thing I wanted was for tonight to turn into another major blowup. We already had one of those this summer and we barely survived it. “Mama, I am thrilled that you seem to have accepted Henry as my future husband.” Seem to being the operative words. “Truly, I am. But this is my wedding. Our wedding.” I collect Henry’s hand in mine. “And it’s going to be what we want.”
“What you want? Or what he wants?” She spits out with that familiar venom from the past. I knew her bitterness still had to be lingering beneath this facade. There was no way it could have evaporated. How long before he’s demoted to “that man” again?
I dare glance at Henry.
His expression is peaceful, unruffled. “If it were up to me, Abbi and I would have married at city hall the day we landed back in New York.”
Mama gasps, her fearful eyes flittering to Reverend Enderbey as if merely suggesting such an idea has earned our family a one-way ticket to the fiery pits of hell. “You wouldn’t dare.”