Page 106 of Her Goal
I blink a few times, trying to put two and two together. In Cobbiton, there are neighborhood Christmas decoratingcontests, but not for Halloween. As far as I know. Perhaps she’s starting one. I bet Nancy Linderberg will lodge a complaint.
Then Margo bustles into the room, a digital tablet aloft, telling two young guys to bring the apple cider station to the entertainment room.
My mother spots me and lifts her arms, shouting, “Surprise!”
My eyes tick and tock from side to side. “Surprise?”
“I really, really, really wanted to surprise you on your wedding day, but I couldn’t very well leave you out of what’ll be one of the most important days of your life.”
“Mami,” I say flatly.
“Okay, so, we have three top-priority questions, and then Margo has some ancillary ones that you might be able to help us with.”
“Margo?” I shake my head.
She salutes my mother. “Just following orders.” Then she winces. “Don’t hate me.”
“I don’t hate you, but guys, this has gone too far. Did it ever occur to you that this isn’t the wedding I want?” I realize I can’t bring myself to say that I don’t want to marry Hudson because I’m not sure if that’s true anymore.
“You don’t know what we have in store. It’s like I’ve been preparing for this day your entire life.”
“But it’smywedding day.”
She nods, though I don’t think she’s listening.
As chaos swirls around me with deliveries being made, two men and a moving dolly deliver a photo booth. Two more carry boxes filled with Halloween props for picture taking, including a plastic skeleton hand. I take a step back. It’s not that I resign myself to doing things their way, but I don’t have a “way.” More like a person.
I just wanted to marry a hockey player because I love hockey. And they’re tall. Plus, maybe being with someone who’s tough on the ice, would balance out the hardened exterior I’ve created.
Yet, I hear these words in Hudson’s voice. Looking around, he’s not here, but it’s like I consulted his advice column that started as hate emails and this is what I came up with.
Huh.
Mami’s expression turns soft with concern and in rapid-fire Spanish, she asks, “Mijita, are you okay?”
“Yes, actually. Mom, Margo, whatever you have planned, I trust you. I think the problem is that I haven’t been trusting myself. The wedding is going to be wonderful.”
Whether I’m here or not. I mean, I think I will be. First I have a date with Hudson.
I give them both big hugs, and then hurry back out the door. However, on the short drive over to Golden Bantam Lane, my resolve ghosts when I finally get a text back from a man I believed might actually be a ghost, keeping me frozen in the car parked outside his brother’s house.
The scariest part is that he claims he’ll do his best to get here in time.
This could change everything for Hudson and where will that leave me?
32
HUDSON
It’ssix-thirty on the dot. I have a crusty sourdough loaf warming in the oven, the pasta is ready in the serving dish, and I just tossed the salad. All that’s left is to light the candles for this romantic dinner at home for two.
I could’ve brought Leah to a fancy restaurant in Omaha but wanted this to just be for us … also, I have no idea how the post-meal part will turn out and am not quite confident enough to see my potential look of rejection plastered all over social media if she says no.
Clapping my hands together, I get my head in the game. Only, I’mnot part of a team for this one. It’s just me and Leah.
I hear a car outside.
It’s go time.
