Page 9 of Terms and Traditions

I eased down beside her, greasy floor and all, and leaned my head against hers in solidarity. “First, Steve Martin is hilarious in that movie, and it’s worth laughing over. Maybe not right now, but one day. As for the white chocolate, I’ll grab some after my meeting this morning. Wafers, right? Text me a list of anything else you need. I’ll even help you make the marzipan. You said I can’t mess up something that simple. And about Carey—” I broke off, trying to figure out how to nicely phrase what I needed to say about my bestie’s future mother-in-law. How did you describe a woman who most commonly resembled a harpy? It was like she was going for gold on every stereotypical mother-in-law problem. But she was a decent woman to everyone else, which made things ten shades of awkward. “Have you talked to her about it?”

Liz pulled back slightly with a stink eye. Stupid question. Liz was an excellent communicator. As a kindergarten teacher, she had to be.

I sighed and nudged her shoulder. “Talk to Ben. Part of marriage is navigating difficult family members, and there’s no better time to start than now. He’s your champion and can help invoke some boundaries that need to take place. You’re partners in this.”

Liz laughed shakily but hugged me. “You should have been a counselor.” She side-eyed me. “And maybe take your own advice sometime.”

I rolled my eyes. “So you’ll talk to Ben, then? And not elope in Cancun over Christmas?” I said, half teasing.

Her laugh was stronger this time. “I’ll talk to Ben, and I promise not to elope in Cancun.” She held her fingers out in a Mockingjay salute because she was a Hunger Games nerd. “Besides, we’d elope in Victoria, not Mexico.”

Figures. Since Liz had all but fallen in love with Butchart Gardens the one time in college we’d ferried from Seattle to Vancouver Island, British Columbia, for spring break. “That still your honeymoon plan?”

Liz grinned. “Yup. Just in time for the cherry blossoms, tulips, and dogwood to be in bloom.” She sighed dreamily, caught up in her floral daydreams before her face fell. “Provided we actually get married.”

“Are you having second thoughts?”

“No.” Liz rubbed her forehead and puffed out her cheeks. “Just overwhelmed with all this stuff. I know they say it’s about the marriage, not the wedding, but I at least thought the wedding planning would be fun.” She huffed a sigh. “Foolish child, I was. But I’ll talk to Ben, and we’ll work it out. It’ll be fine.” Glancing around the kitchen, she bit her lip as if seeing it for the first time in all its apocalyptic glory. “After I take care of this mess. Gosh, it’s bad, Steph. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I struggled to my feet, bracing a hand on the table for a minute as a wave of dizziness flooded my veins. I shut my eyes, tightly, breathing slowly. Mornings are the worst.

Liz grimaced sympathetically as she offered me a steaming mug of coffee, doctored perfectly with cream and sugar.

“Thanks.” I accepted the proffered beverage and sipped the creamy liquid. “Perfection.”

“Let me tackle this.” Liz motioned around the kitchen with a wide flap of her hands. “You go enjoy that and then we can discuss breakfast.”

I glanced at the clock. I had a few minutes to sit and enjoy my coffee before jumping in the shower. “Why did you stress bake? Did something happen on your date?”

Liz guffawed and balled up her soiled apron. “No, it was peachy. We went ice skating downtown in Riverfront Park, then Ben took me for steak. Oh! And we drove through the Candy Cane Lane neighbourhoods to look at Christmas lights. Somehow they’re even better this year. Hey! You and I should go one night this week before you leave. Maybe tomorrow?”

I plugged in the Christmas tree lights before trudging to the worn leather couch and settling in. “Works for me, but you didn’t answer my question.” Careful not to spill a drop of liquid gold, which was disappearing far too quickly, I draped the fuzzy red-plaid sherpa blanket over my legs and sighed contentedly as I soaked in the magic of the twinkling lights.

Dishes clanged, and I could have sworn something broke. “I’m fine!” Liz called.

“Liz. Why the cake?”

She poked her head into the living room. “It wasn’t anything major, I promise. I just woke up early feeling jittery, and Carey’s texts didn’t help so I thought, why not bake?”

“Only you,” I said fondly, smiling over the rim of my cup.

Laughing, she returned to the kitchen, and I heard the tap running. “Who are you meeting on a Saturday? Isn’t it your day off?”

Busted. I hadn’t planned on telling Liz about my… proposal until after I’d hashed out the details with Nash. She knew about my crush and would have plenty to say about my no-doubt idiotic scheme. “Just a friend. I’ll tell you about it later.”

Liz bounced back into view, hands on her hips. “Uh, I know you aren’t meeting a friend, because hello? I’m right here.”

I arched an eyebrow. “I have other friends, Liz.”

“I know, honey. But Danielle’s girls are down with the flu, and I talked to Kelsi yesterday, and she didn’t mention going out with you. So… who’s the hot date?”

“Not a date.” I choked on the last sip of coffee and set my cup down on the side table. “I need to grab a shower.”

“Steph!” Liz hollered after me, but I just laughed and shut the bathroom door with a decisive click to avoid further questions. Under no circumstances would I be late to meet Nash… That was, if he decided I wasn’t insane and actually showed.

“No, no, no, NO! Come on!” I cried out in frustration, giving my steering wheel a slap. The one day I desperately didn’t want to be late, my car died. On the road. Thankfully not in the middle of the intersection, like last time. I loved my little silver Toyota Matrix, affectionately named The Flea because, for all her quirks and threats of dying, she was impossible to fully kill.

Plunging out of the warmth of the vehicle into the stinging cold of outside, I muttered threats to the temperamental automotive. “Next time I fill your tank, you only get eighty-seven octane. If you’re going to act this bad on ninety-two, I’m just wasting money.” The old girl hated the winter cold as much as I did, but I didn’t see the need to replace her with a new vehicle for five months of the year. My job paid well but not that well.