Page 53 of From Ice to Home
Liz’s voice returns, from the background, “As I recall, you chose ‘suit idiot’ when you had two perfectly fine Rangers sitting at our table in Vegas. Tell us again how that one worked out for you?”
“Not my finest moment, I admit,” Mona tosses back, her dramatic flair in full swing. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t make up for it. So that’s why Mrs. Walker here is going to make those locker room passes happen.”
“Hannah Walker,” Liz says, and I can hear a faint smile in her voice. “It has a nice ring to it.”
“Oh, show us the ring!” Mona yells.
I glance down at my bare hand and cringe. Before we left, I took my wedding band from the glove compartment in my car and packed it in my suitcase. Lucas isn’t wearing his ring either, and I’m not really sure when we’re going to start…or if we should…or if he even wants to.
“I can’t,” I admit sheepishly. “It’s…still in my bag somewhere.”
There’s a beat of silence before Liz cuts back, her voice incredulous. “Wait, you’re not evenwearingit?”
“I told you,” I say defensively, “it’s been a rough couple of days. We haven’t really figured everything out yet. And they’re not extravagant or anything,” I add, embarrassment creeping up my neck. “We got them from the chapel gift shop.”
Mona is basically an heiress and Liz has a very well-known family in Manhattan, who have their moments in the spotlight.To them, the plain white gold wedding band might not be enough…to a lot of people it wouldn’t be.
But to me it was kind of beautiful in its simplicity. And it felt like the perfect fit.
“Oh no, no, no,” Mona groans, dragging out the syllables for emphasis. “Darling, you’ll need to get a proper rock on that finger, pronto. Those hardcore fans won’t believe you actually married him unless they see the proof.”
Liz sighs, the sound heavy and knowing. “She’s not wrong. You’re stepping into a world where image matters more than it should. A nice ring could save you from a hurricane of nasty comments in the future.”
My shoulders slump, reminded of the horrible things people had to say about me. I let out a defeated breath just thinking about the term ‘Puckbunny’.
“Did you read the whole article?” I ask.
“And the comments,” Liz answers my unspoken question, her tone turning softer. “Listen, Han, this is going to be something you’re not used to. Not everyone is as sweet and caring as you.”
“Yeah, that’s why you have us,” Mona cuts in, her tone light and teasing. “We know you like things to be perfect. You want things sweet, soft and perfectly balanced. Like a cookie. And then there’s us…we’re like the nuts in your cookie. The rocky to your road.”
I roll my eyes but I can’t help the small smile creeping onto my face. “You’re insane.”
“The insane to your asylum,” she adds quickly, clearly delighted with herself.
“Stop it,” I mutter, but I can’t help the small smile creeping onto my lips.
“We love you, is what she’s trying to say,” Liz says, cutting through Mona’s antics. “And weknowyou. And if any of the pining of the past five years is anything to go on, Lucas knowsyou too. Don’t let a bunch of strangers tell you how to feel or what’s going to happen in your relationship.”
She’s absolutely right. I shouldn’t worry what other people think about our relationship. The only opinions that matter are Lucas’s, mine and God’s. But even as I tell myself this, a gnawing doubt settles in my chest. I’m not entirely sure where God stands on our relationship. Because I keep wondering if God would bless a Vegas wedding? Would He have been there in the chapel with us as we exchanged vows after running into each other a few hours earlier?
“Thanks,” I whisper, my voice tight as I tug on a small thread on my sweater. “I can’t tell you how much it means to know I have you guys in my corner.”
“Anytime,” Liz says, her tone lightening. “So, you’re in New York?” she asks, her words slower, as if she’s treading carefully. “When does your new job start?”
Heaviness settles inside of me. I just got the job of a lifetime…the job I’ve been working so hard for. I’m sure if I check my emails, I would find the necessary documentation sent over. The contracts I have to sign and send back. I’m not sure how to handle this part.
I take a deep breath, leaning my head against the wall.
“I’m in New York right now,” I say, glancing sideways, taking in the scene outside the window, focusing on what I do know. “In Westchester. Lucas has a house here. But I have no idea where I’ll be in two days, let alone in three weeks when I have to start that job.”
“That’s not like you, babe,” Liz says, her voice laced with concern. “You always have a plan.”
“Tell me about it,” I mutter, the words feeling hollow. My fingers dig into the soft carpet as I try to suppress the nagging urge to organize, to outline, to control every single step of what comes next. But for the first time, I don’t know how to start.
“Just tell us if you need company,” Liz offers.
“Or back-up!” Mona yells. “We’ll be back in Manhattan soon. You might not live around the corner when we’re back in Durham, but Westchester is around the corner from Manhattan. We’ll have to take what we can get.”
