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Chet follows me, placing a hand on my back as I work to make a fresh pot. “Everything okay, Gabriella?” My heart flutters at how kind he is. He doesn’t strike me as the type of guy who’s overly invested in the details surrounding his wedding, and being privy to all this silly debate has to be obnoxious. But he’s been nothing but supportive so far.
“You know you don’t have to listen to anyone’s opinion on our wedding, right? You really don’t have to listen to anything Fred says.”
I giggle as I try not to spill the grounds. He grips me a little tighter. Even after everything we’ve done, I can still feel my cheeks get hot when he holds me like this. “I know,” I say. “But my dream wedding is one where everyone feels included. A couple of changes here and there are nothing compared to all of this support.” I turn slightly to gesture at how full my cafe is. Everyone is here to celebrate with us. They’re ordering food and coffee and complimenting the decor. It feels so warm.
I feel like I’m really home.
The coffee finishes brewing, so I take the pot and prepare to pour fresh cups for everyone. Several people are crowded around the table where I was just sitting. As I carefully approach, I see why.
“Oh no, that’s awful,” Carolyn says.
“Well, I suppose that’s all I get for trying to help! Hmph.” Mrs. Murphy throws her hands, and a pencil, up into the air. In front of her is a sketch of a dress.
Averyugly and tacky wedding dress. It looks like a lily pad, with a mushroom hairpiece and a spiderweb style veil. The shoes are pointed boots and the accessories are a string of nuts and berries.
I can only imagine this is exactly what an elf like Mrs. Murphy thinks of as haute couture. I stare at the sketch for a moment before looking up at the old woman. She’s looking at me so hopefully, and I can’t stand to insult her, plus I’ve heard what happens to those who do.
“It’s… very lovely, Mrs. Murphy. I just had my heart set on something more… subtle.” She’s a little grumbly, but all that goes away as I fill her cup with more hot coffee.
“I suppose it’s normal for young people to shun traditional ways,” she sighs.
Again, I feel Chet’s hand placed firmly on my back. “Nice save,” he whispers in my ear. I have the feeling I’ll need to make many more before this wedding happens.
16
GABRIELLA
Now that some of the bigger pieces of the wedding are settled, I want to focus on our relationship, at least for a few moments. Chet is still just a great help with everything and anything I need. I really want to show him how much I appreciate and love him.
I pack the items I picked up at the local store today and place them in an antique picnic basket I picked up at the town flea market last week. It’s wicker with metal bats as the buckle, and when I open it up, the basket groans like Lurch from The Addams Family.
I smile, remembering the first time I opened it to see inside. Talk about a jump scare! But now, being in public a little more helps me transition into the darker side of the world. It was exactly because I jumped that I bought the picnic basket. It is a piece I know Chet will love, and we will use it often.
I place the basket in the car and walk into the backyard to find Chet gardening. He’s pulling up all the plants with flowers instead of taking the weeds. I sigh and know this is just one of those happy balances we’ll have to work out.
My eyes scan the backyard. We might be able to have flowers on one side and his weeds on the other. It’s big enough for two flower beds, and if we are going to get married, then we will both have to learn how to compromise.
I walk over to Chet and touch his back gently. I know I won’t scare him because he’s got wolf hearing, but he’s so focused on digging things up I don’t want to give him a shock.
I laugh as Chet turns to me with a smile. His eyebrows are raised, and he stands, brushing off the dirt. “What?” He asks.
I shake my head. “I was just thinking about how funny it would be if I scared you because you’re so invested in gardening.”
Chet wraps his arm around me and hooks me close to him. He kisses my nose. “Weirder things have happened.”
I smile at him and agree. “I suppose they have.” He takes his dirty fingers and tries to smear mud on my face. I squeal and wiggle away. Despite the wolf-like strength, I’m very wiry.
I hold my hands up and yelp. “Stop! Stop!” laughing as he lunges toward me again. “I have a surprise for you. If you get me dirty, you’ll have to wait, and I know you hate waiting.”
Chet freezes as soon as he hears the word “surprise.” “You have one for me?” He points to himself in disbelief, and I nod.
“Uh, huh.” I walk over to him, take his dirty hands, and pull him into the kitchen. “Wash.” He listens. I can see the excitement bouncing through his turquoise eyes, like a six-year-old on Christmas—or Halloween, depending on who you are—morning. “It’s so nice to see you giddy.”
One wouldn’t usually describe a werewolf as giddy, but Chet practically bounced from one foot to the next. He dries his hands, walks over to me, and kisses my cheek. “Thank you. It’s very special that you’ve thought about me.”
My cheeks heat up at his touch, from his gaze, and because of what he says. “You have done so much for me. It’s the least I could do for you.” I stand on tippy toes and kiss his lips gently. “Come with me.”
We dash to the car, and I slide into the driver's seat. He sniffs the air and turns to see the picnic basket. “We’re going on a picnic?”
