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After a couple of hours rotating through sliders, curves breaking, and curve ball pitches, my phone rings again. It’s Zena, the wedding planner.
“Hello.”
There’s a heavy sigh before she speaks. “I’m sorry, Wilson. The new owners want to renovate the castle starting this week. You’ll receive a full refund, but we need to find a new castle for the wedding.”
Inwardly, I chuckle at the use of the words new and castle in her sentence. Finding another castle quickly seems impossible. Part of the reason we pushed our wedding date into the future was so we could get married at Belvoir Castle.
“I’ll pay whatever price for the new owners want if they can just wait,” I say, attempting to stay calm and solve the problem. “Triple. I’ll pay triple.”
“I've already let them know that you're willing to increase your price, but the new owners have declined to negotiate. I contacted three castles in England, but two have prior events. The third one hasn’t called me back.”
The only word I say is, “Okay.”
In a momentary lapse of self-control, I sling my bat well past the infield. “Fuck.”
This cannot be happening. Kenni and I have endured and overcome many obstacles, but this is one hurdle I can’t jump.
My friends hang their heads.
Tackett, ever the optimist, grabs my elbow and says, “You once told me not to stress, to stay calm, and my swing would return. Just stay calm and we’ll figure it out.”
I breathe out, close my eyes, and respond, “You’re right. But how am I going to break Kenni’s heart when it’s finally mended?”
.
3
Kenni
What could go wrong? Lake Michigan is stunning, even now in the winter. The soothing water ripples, and the December sun, although not strong, is bright. When Wils inquired about my dream wedding, a castle came to mind because The Princess Bride is my favorite movie. Wesley, oh, Wesley. Wils is my Wesley, willing to fight for me to the end.
When we were teens in love, tragedy struck. I cut him out of my life, and the shared pain that should have brought us closer drove us apart. Nevertheless, he didn’t surrender. Being baseball’s rising star and league MVP, he arranged a trade to join my team, ensuring we would have to talk and face our past heartbreak. I attempted to resist the charm of those captivating dimples, yet the more I resisted, the more resolute he became.
My friends gather around me. “Are you excited?” Megan asks, and I can’t believe how freaking gorgeous she is after just having twin boys.
Overwhelmed by remembering my painful past and the difficulties that Wils and I experienced as kids, my lids fill with tears. My hand shakes before tenting my nose and my lips fold inward, attempting to ward off the threatening tears.
I’ve known Avery since I was young, and she knows all too well what I’m feeling right now. She married Wils’s best friend, Patrick, a couple of years ago. Megan and Archer followed only weeks later.
While holding a stem of golden bubbles, she rubs my back for a long moment and stares out the large penthouse window. “Baseball brought us all together. I can’t imagine not living in Kodiak Kove with you, Megan, and Talynn. Today is a day of celebration where we celebrate the best friend any of us could have. I know it’s hard, but let’s stay in the present.”
Megan hands me a glass of champagne.
“Is it okay to make a pre-bridal shower toast?” I ask.
Talynn claims, “You can do anything you want. This is your day.”
The fleeting moment of sadness disappears, and laughter fills me because I’m the shyest of my friends. I’m the one listening to them about sex. “To being celibate for three weeks.”
“What?” they say in unison as their jaws drop. Then, Avery, always the therapist without a filter, says, “May I ask why? Because that’s just crazy.” She pauses and squirrels one side of her mouth up. “It’s proven that sex is the best stress reliever on the planet, and these last few weeks of weddings are stressful.”
Talynn chimes in, “Can I get an Amen?” She began making plans for her wedding about one year out.
“Don’t look at me. Archer and I were married three weeks after he proposed,” Megan states while wiggling her eyebrows. “I had to lock that shit down.”
Naturally, my friends know how to soothe me—they’re angels on earth but come complete with potty mouths.
“Because Wils wants it to be epic. It’s always epic. The man doesn’t half-ass anything. So last night, he came home from a ten-day road trip. Well, let’s just say, I don’t think honeymoon sex can beat it. How did I get so lucky? How did we find these perfect men?”
