Chasing Stars (35 page)

“Was that your mom? Is she coming?” His arms tighten around me.

“No, she is going away with her boyfriend.” I turn to face him.

“How about your dad, are you inviting him?”

“No, I’m not ready to have him rejecting me yet again.”

“How about if you give some thought before deciding. Don’t do anything you will regret in the future.”

“I suppose you are right. I’ll think about it.” I say inhaling deeply.

“You OK?” His fingers run through my hair and I shudder.

“Yeah, it just felt wrong not to invite mom, but I figured just as much. It is not a big deal.” I brush it off.

“It is a big deal. And I feel so sorry for her,” he mumbles in a low voice.

“What you mean?” I arch an eyebrow.

“One day, her career will fizzle out, and she will realize the mistakes she made. She will be consumed by regret and have a void where it should be filled with memories of the ones who matter the most in life.”

“I don’t wish that for her, Will,” I whisper.

“I know you don’t, darling, but it is the law of reaping what you sow. It works each time.”

“I am thrilled you are here, Nillie.” I hug Niki, again. Her small-framed body is skinnier than before, and I shudder at what that means.

“Oh, Portia, how can I not? You are the first one to cross off the first item on our list of fabulous things to do before you die.’ What an awful title. Who came up with it?” She grimaces.

“You.”

“Jeez, and you allowed that?” she says with an accusatory tone.

“So it is my fault?”

“Yeah, by not preventing a crime you become an accomplice.” She giggles.

My eyes fasten on her face. I remember the great moments we have shared together. Niki has always been taciturn. Her sweet and gentle nature, balanced my impulsive one. But I notice something different with her vibe. Though I can’t figure out why, I can sense that she is tense and jumpy.

“So, do you like the dress?” She spins, and I smile. The couture cobalt blue dress is simple and elegant, just like Niki. She looks stunning, but when she smiles, it seems forced.

“I love it,” I say.

Niki turns and I unfasten her back zipper.

“It’s so freaking awesome, that you are wearing Maritza’s dress.”

“I am happy Aunt May is such a great seamstress. Honestly, I was skeptical when I saw her; she must be in her eighties.” Her trembling fingers, however, altered the wedding dress to perfection.

“Can I see your ring again?” Niki asks wistfully. I raise my hand, and she gazes at the huge rock on my finger.

Will’s design, like everything he does, is thoughtful and gorgeous. The design is simple—two small stones set beside a large diamond—and the inscription on the inside reads,
You are mine, and I am yours.
Slowly, he placed the ring on my finger and whispered, “This precious stone is not nearly as valuable as the feelings I have for you. But the stone is eternal, as is my love for you.”

“That’s one beautiful ring,” Niki sighs, and then smiles broadly.

“Yeah, it represents a new era in my life.”

It is Thursday and I cannot believe that Saturday Will and I will be bedded. Mmm, I love the primitive sound of that. Pure fire and desire quickens my pulse.

Yesterday, Mel, Niki, and I bought plenty of lace and silk lingerie. Images of Will peeling them off me, one by one, floods my mind. I blush. Again, I tremble with expectation at the thought.

“How is Mr. CEO?” I ask nonchalantly.

“Huh?” I notice an expression that looks like fear cross Niki’s face.

“Is there a problem between you and Ray?” I ask.

“Oh, uh, Ray and I had a disagreement. He really wanted us to spend Thanksgiving with his family.” She slides out of the dress, and returns to her black slacks.

“I hope you can work things out with him. You know I am not Ray’s greatest fan. But I want you to be happy and if he makes you happy, then that’s all I need to hear.”

“We’ll work it out.” She forces a smile. “Enough of my soap opera drama. Today is about you, and Saturday is your big day. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be OK.”

“I am sorry for causing a fight between you.” I hang up her dress.

“It’s not your fault. Ray can be overbearing. I guess being away from each other will help us put things into perspective.” She applies an excessive amount of makeup, attempting to cover a fading yellow bruise on her left cheek.

“Pretty bad fall you had, huh?”

Her hand stills for one second. “Yeah, you know me, I’m so clumsy.” She laughs, smoothing lip-gloss over her smile. “Do I look OK? I hope Tarry remembers to wear black slacks and a white shirt, I texted to remind him. He will hardly have time to change when he gets here,” she says.

“I will be happy if he makes it in time. It looks like his flight was late leaving Norway,” I say, buttoning the starched white shirt Mel lent me.

I observe Niki. For some reason, I can’t drop my feeling of uneasiness every time I think about her jerk of a boyfriend. Is he hitting her? She has sworn that the bruises on her face really are from a fall. Niki never has hidden anything from me, but I suspect there is more to her story. “Let’s go, Maritza will be happy to have you helping as well.”

Hand in hand, like when we were nine, we stroll toward the kitchen.

“Hey, babe,” Will is perched on the sofa. He gets up and moves toward me. My insides melt at the sight of my husband-to-be.

“Are you girls ready to go?” He turns to Niki. “Thanks for helping us, Nillie.” I gleam internally. I love that he refers to her with our group’s intimate nickname for Niki.

“You are welcome.” Niki beams.

“Where is everybody?” I ask.

“Oh, they headed to the shelter. Maritza wanted to organize some last-minute things.” He grabs his keys, and guides us outside.

“Argh, it’s cold,” I say as the wind bites against my skin.

“Yep, but tomorrow, will be a record high. Go figure.” Will shrugs and flashes me a secretive smile. A thousand butterflies flutter their wings in my stomach. He opens a door for Niki and for me, and then takes the driver’s seat.

The ride is brief. Once at the homeless shelter, I step into the cold wind and notice three hyperactive kids surrounding two women and a man. They loiter at the entrance, and I frown.

“Will, are there children at the shelter?” I ask.

“Yeah, this is a shelter for families.”

“Wow, I never thought of families being homeless,” I utter.

“I know. But many families are stricken by some sort of hardship and they end up here.”

“It must be devastating for a child to be without a home.”

“The quarters for families with children are quite accommodating. Dan makes sure they have enough funds for that. Besides, many families are here for a transitional period only. Dan implemented a program to assist with the transition, including helping to find a job or a home.”

After greeting the family, we enter the building. The aroma of homemade food makes my stomach growl. Between making the arrangements for the wedding and helping with the Thanksgiving meal, I haven’t eaten much.

“Are you really OK with giving an interview? Dan believes it will encourage people to participate in future events, but you don’t have to do it.”

“It’s OK, Will. I don’t mind. My name has been associated with less worthy causes,” I say.

Scanning the room, I spot Mel behind a long table, heating food with warmers. She beckons to us.

“I am going to help Maritza,” Will says and goes through a sliding door. I see Maritza smacking his fingers when he reaches for a piece of pie she has just sliced. Niki and I join Mel.

“Hi, thank God you are here. Dad has been going crazy waiting for you. He is so excited about the interview.” Mel hands each of us a white apron. “Here, we need to wear aprons.”

I fasten the apron, and a smirk crosses my face.

“In a very weird way, I’m kind of excited about this volunteering thing,” Niki says.

Mel laughs. “Statistics shows that the happiest people on the planet have one thing in common: giving of their time or money.” She helps Niki with the apron. “It releases powerful endorphins.”

“Huh, so that’s what I’ve become, an endorphin junky?” I say.

Will lays a tray of string beans over the food warmer, and turns to me. “Baby, Lucas just called. Tarry arrived, and they will be here in about forty-five minutes.”

“Super, I thought they wouldn’t make on time.” I glance at my watch. It is almost one, the time we will start serving dinner.

“Hey, gorgeous, were you able to talk to Tim?” Will asks Mel.

“Yeah, he is homesick, I could tell.” For a brief moment, Mel eyes are sad and her voice becomes strained. “But they are serving a nice meal for them today.” She sighs, and I have a knot in my stomach. I imagine how difficult being away from Will would be, especially during my pregnancy. For real? Did I just contemplate pregnancy? I can barely recognize myself, and the truth is I love this new me.

“Portia, sweetheart, there you are.” Dan grins when he sees me.

“Hey, Dan, I hear you are looking for me.” I smile broadly right back at him. Jeez, his grin is contagious.

He introduces me to the reporter, and I spend a half hour speaking about the important work being done on behalf of the families of the shelter. The reporter chuckles when I show him the blister on my hand from peeling potatoes. After finishing the brief interview, I join Mel and Niki behind the table.

People of all ages, races, and background gather around the tables. They talk and laugh. Gratitude permeates throughout the room. There is a sense of fellowship and survival. In my case, I feel as if I have adopted an improved me. Happiness—true and undiluted—takes over my body.

“They are here.” Mel points to Lucas and Tarry walking across the room.

“Tarry, over here.” I wave to him and dash in his direction.

Ignoring all the eyes turning to us, I throw my arms around his neck and hold him in a tight embrace. I try to surround him with all the love I have absorbed in the last month.

“I missed you so much,” I murmur.

“Whoa, peaches, I missed you too.” He reciprocates the embrace, making me wonder if one can die from happiness.

“I am thrilled you’re here.” I release him.

“Hi, Nillie.” He embraces Niki and lifts her off the floor.

“Only you girls to drag me to such an utterly remote place. Where the hell are we?” He grins at me. His hand sweeps his shaggy hair out of his face. I recognize his nervous gesture, and smile. My famous singer friend is just as socially awkward as he was back in the seventh grade.

“Oh, shush, we are giving back to the community. Tonight we are servants of a greater cause.” I giggle when he rolls his eyes. I grab his hand, and tug him toward the table. “Mel, this is Tarry.” I grab the extra apron from the table, “Tarry, this is Melody, Will’s sister.”

“Nice to meet you, Melody.” He holds her outstretched hand for longer than he should. Mel goes crimson. What the hell, I shoot a menace stare at Tarry.

“Likewise,” she murmurs, and I think she is a little too star-struck.

“Lucas, thanks for giving Tarry a lift,” suppressing a smile, I smooth Tarry’s wrinkled white shirt. From legendary pop star to waiter, who would have thought?

“Oh, Lucas have you met Niki?”

“Hi, Niki.” Lucas’s eyes have fastened on Niki’s face, even before I introduce them. What the hell! Am I seeing the world through a lens of sparkling chemistry?

“We will begin serving in a few minutes. I am glad you guys made on time,” Mel says and hands an apron to Lucas.

“The true miracle of a holiday, zero traffic in New York.” Lucas drapes his arm around Mel’s shoulder.

“Yeah man, I thought we were on a NASCAR race.” Tarry struggles to tie his apron.

“Lucas, you’re supposed to be a law-abiding citizen,” Mel reprimands him with a trace of humor in her voice. “Where are all the good cops when we need one?” She smiles shaking her head.

“They are both police officers, Mel finished the academy right before she got pregnant,” I explain to Niki and Tarry, and we all laugh.

Will joins us behind the table. Dan stands near us, holding a microphone. He introduces us and thanks those who contributed to the feast. Dan is an eloquent speaker, and before the end of his speech, tears burn my eyes.

The man, who interviewed me earlier, adjusts his glasses. His eyes twinkle at the sight of Tarry and me, white aprons in place, standing behind the table. He directs the photographer, on the shots to take. I guess they are from the
Connecticut Post
. Part of the agreement between Dan and the reporter was for complete secrecy of my being here. In addition, the reporter promised only to feature the article in the paper’s Sunday edition. By then, Will and I will be long married.

Internally, I roll my eyes, wondering what the headlines will say regarding my volunteer work. I never know whether the media will portray what I do—whether it’s being good or not. Rarely do I care, but today I do. I know how important it is for Dan to promote the needs of shelters. And, hell yeah, between Tarry and me, we can bring plenty of attention to a cause.