Page 1 of Puck Sweet Puck
one
Kendall
Irun my handover the soft cream-colored lace — or champagne, as Chaz’s mom called it. It’s a beautiful dress, just not the one I would have chosen for myself, but like everything about this wedding, I don’t have a say in it.
At first, I thought his mother was just trying to help because my own mother chose not to get involved in the wedding decisions. That didn't surprise me, as I was an oops baby. Ten years after my older sister was born, I came into a family that had planned a life after Kameron graduated and moved away, which didn’t include a second child to raise.
Kameron has always been more like a mother to me than our actual mother. And don’t even get me started on our father. He’d rather be on the golf course with his friends than walking his youngest daughter down the aisle. Luckily for me, Kameron will be doing the honors.
My big day is only three weeks away, and doubts are hitting me hard, especially after I picked up my wedding gown today. Trying it on was an even bigger reality check for me.
I spin around, trying to see the dress from every angle in the mirror, but nothing looks quite right. It’s too tight across the hips and bust. The skirt flares too much at the bottom. The veil is a shade darker than the dress. Even the delicate, strappy high heels feel like they’re squeezing my feet.
My phone rings, and I debate whether to answer it. Chaz’s mom has been calling or texting me nonstop day and night since Chaz proposed to me. I’m not sure I’m in the right state of mind to talk to her right now.
Curiosity gets the best of me as I reach into my purse and pull out my phone to see who might be calling at this time of night. A picture of my big sister flashes on the screen, making me feel calmer than I have in months.
“Hey, sis, what’s up?” I answer, trying to sound more upbeat than I feel.
“Ah, it’s nothing. It’s just that we haven’t talked in a while.” There’s something in Kameron’s tone that seems off. If I can’t figure my own issues out, the least I can do is help my sister with hers.
“You insult me, Kameron. I thought you knew me better than that. I can always tell when something is bothering you. Now spill.”
She goes into detail about three young hockey players on the pro team she’s the head medical advisor for and how she’s attracted to them but isn’t sure if she should at on that attraction. It seems a little late to me, but I let her finish her story.
“Yikes. That doesn’t sound like you at all. But I really don’t see a problem with having sex with more than one guy at a time. Didn’t you learn anything from your ex, Greg?” I laugh thinking about the story she told me months ago, before she took the job with the Iowa Poseidon pro hockey team, of how she found her live-in boyfriend having sex in their apartment with two guys. “Besides, weren’t you the one who told me to do something for myself? Think of this as a present you’re giving yourself.”
There’s a long pause before she finally answers, “You know what, Kendall. I’m going back out there and have the best night of my life.”
“Yay! Now go out there and have some fun for me. I’m glad one of us is getting some action.”
“Wait, but you’re engaged?”
I can’t deal with the pity tone in Kameron’s voice right now. I don’t need her to be my mom--I need her to be a desirable woman and have some fun for once in her life. But I don’t want her to worry either.
“Yes, I am, but I seem to have picked the one guy who wants to wait until we get married to have sex or even kiss. But enough about me. You go have some fun. I love you, and make sure to do everything you want and more tonight.” I end the call before she can ask me any more questions.
I take another look at myself in the mirror at a dress I never wanted and think about the groom--I’m starting to realize I don’t want either.
Before I change my mind, I sent a quick text to Chaz.
Me:Sorry, I can’t marry you. I hope you understand. I know you will find someone who will love you the way you deserve.
Sending a text message to break off an engagement is a shit thing to do, but I need a chance to breathe before Chaz and his mom come storming over to change my mind.
My phone vibrates in my hand, causing me to jump. I glance at the message on the screen in surprise. I wasn’t expecting Chaz to reply so quickly, but the message isn’t from Chaz—it’s from his mom.
Chaz:Look, you little slut. I don’t care that you’ve changed your mind. You agreed to marry my son, and that’s precisely what you will do, or I will ruin you.
Mrs. Leeds has never spoken to me like that before. What does she mean she’ll ruin me?
I’m a barista at the coffee shop chain that she and her husband own, and that’s how I met Chaz. Not exactly a high-paying or glamorous job. So I’m not sure how she can ruin me.
I re-read her text and start to shake, wondering how she will exactly ruin me when a second message comes through.
Chaz:It looks like you’re at home. Chaz and I will be there in twenty minutes to settle this distasteful matter.
She knows I’m at home.
