When Girlfriends Chase Dreams (7 page)

I don’t think I can really blame her. Although, I don’t know what it’s like to be broken up over a guy. I’ve been with Conner from practically day one in college, and my two “boyfriends” in high school weren’t really a reason for a broken heart. Even though I detested the guy Lara was with, and even though I really wanted her to pick up and move on with another guy—in search of that perfect love story—I can understand that sometimes it just doesn’t work. Like the pieces aren’t all right or the stars in Orion’s Belt are all skewed, and you’re just not really feeling it.

I’m really happy, however, that she seems into this Nathan guy. If he’s as sweet and nice as Lara says he is, and if he’s as hot as Matt, then Lara might be on her way to a happily-ever-after.

As for Emily, that’s another story.
Sheesh!
God help that girl. She’s always in and out of relationships!

“Good for you,” Lara says to Emily, high-fiving her.

“And? What else?” Jackie presses Emily. “You know I could call Matt up and find out what’s going on—God forbid.”

“I didn’t know you two were good friends,” I say. I thought Jackie and Matt only worked together once upon a time when Jackie was actually employed, however short-lived it was.

“I wouldn’t say we are,” Jackie says. “I mean a little bit…a while ago, at least. I
was
trying to set Matt up with Lara after all.”
 

I nod.
 

“I wouldn’t know anything anymore, anyway.” Jackie tosses back a sip of her newly refilled glass. “Seeing how Andrew probably wouldn’t be too fond of me dialing up
that
number again.”

I remember that day. Andrew’s temper got a little out of hand and, to make a messy story concise, he accused Jackie of having an affair because of her routine contact with this Matt guy. Jackie said it was in the name of finding love for a friend of hers, and after a huge blowout that resulted in them slightly trashing their living room, Jackie and Andrew eventually made up.

Lara, who’s probably the closest to Jackie, could dish more about it. She’s always helping Jackie out, taking care of her, sopping up the spilled milk kind of thing. Poor Jack. At least things seem better now. Even if it isn’t an ideal setup with Andrew often being gone, at least Jackie found herself a man to love her unconditionally. I mean, a man who will turn a house upside down because he’s afraid of losing her to another man—a twenty-something waiter, at that! Maybe I’m a cheesy romantic and find it a teensy bit sexy…

“Well, tell, tell,” Jackie says, trying to pump Emily for more information about her new love connection.

I love this! Love is all around. Lara’s finally found a guy who seems to be a smart match, Robin and Bobby are steady, Jackie’s married, I’m going to get married, and now Emily’s with Matt… That pretty much takes care of all us girls except for Sophie. But I think she’s married to her café for now, at least that’s what she’s always saying. I’ll have to try and set her up anyhow…

“Matt and I have only been out a few times,” Emily says. “Things are fun.”

“Fun?” Robin says quizzically. “What does ‘fun’ mean?”

“
Fun?
” Jackie gasps. Her eyes are wide and a smile is starting to grow.

“You know,” Emily says in a tone that is oh-so-telling.

“Emily, I mean no disrespect when I say this,” Sophie starts, “but you get around more than anyone I know. More than Jackie ever did, before she met Andrew. No disrespect to you, Jack,” she says, turning to Jackie.

Jackie doesn’t seem to be bothered. She’s working on her wine.

“I don’t get around that much, Sophie,” Emily says defiantly. “You make it sound like I’m some kind of tramp.”

“I don’t mean that!” Sophie puts up a hand. “No, no. That came out wrong. I’m saying that you always seem to find yourself—”

“In some guy’s bed?” Robin finishes for her.

“No!” Sophie flips her long, straight, brown hair over her shoulder. “Not at all. Em’s always finding herself in some relationship. Bouncing from one to the next. Like her travels! It’s always something new, an adventure,
and
any time she dates it’s
always
a positive experience.

“Pick someone—anyone that she’s dated—and it’s either going really well because it’s a casual and fun thing
only
, or it’s a relationship that has the possibility of actually going somewhere.” Sophie searches everyone’s face for understanding or approval. “
Possibility,
of course. What I’m saying is, there’s always some relationship going on…always something new and fresh…”

I jump in because I know what she’s saying. “Sophie’s right.” I bite into my cracker that I’ve meticulously spread with cheese. “You’ve had more boyfriends, more dates, and been in more relationships than any of us. You’re always meeting someone wherever you go, and I’ve got to give it to you, Em,” I lick my cheesy fingers, “I don’t know how you do it—how you can be so brave and create relationships like you do, but bravo.”

“But when will one of them be that special one?” Lara asks in a more serious tone. “I mean, you can’t just bounce around
forever
.” She pauses, glancing at each of us. “Can she?” She furrows her brow.

Realizing that we’re not trying to create a diatribe—we’re only curious—Emily says, “I know what you girls mean. I don’t know how I do it, but I guess I’m just open to meeting new people. New experiences. And settling down is…well…” She briefly pauses. “I don’t think I know how to settle down.”

“It’s that free spirit thing,” Robin says, almost academically. “Like you can pick up and make a home out of the frickin’ Sahara or no-man’s land, you can meet someone, find the best in them, find them charming or a perfect match for who you are at that precise moment in your life and…love blossoms.”

“Or something blossoms,” Jackie says, starting to giggle.

“Someday it’ll be true love, though.” Lara says in a soft voice.

“Yeah,” I say. “Someday you’ll get really serious with someone.”

Emily briefly contemplates our words, then responds with, “We’ll see. For now I’m just going where life takes me. I have to, metaphorically speaking, put up my sails and let the wind take me where it chooses.” She flies her hands overhead dramatically.

“And hooking up with the sailors in port along the way,” Jackie teases, now breaking out into full-on laughter.

Emily picks up a triangle-shaped cracker and flicks it at Jackie, like a mini paper football from the days in high school.

“You’re not one to criticize or tease about hooking up,” Emily says to Jackie in a playful tone. “And Matt and I aren’t
only
‘hooking up,’” she says, making quotation marks with her fingers. “But we’re not super serious or anything.”

“
Riiiight
,” Sophie teases. “That’s what you say now. Time will only tell, babe.”

Chapter Five

I toss the wet load of whites into the dryer. Schnickerdoodle is at my feet with his leash in his mouth. He’s past due for his evening walk, but I just got home from work not ten minutes ago. I’m exhausted and have already begged Conner to take him for a jaunt around the neighborhood without me.

“Babe?” I call out. I hit the tumble dry low button and saunter into the living room. Conner’s sitting on the couch, elbows on knees and staring at his cell phone. He looks to be deep in thought. “Words with Friends again?”

He shoots up his head and answers with a chuckle, “Angry Birds this time.”

“Oh, goodness. Look, can you take Schnicker? Please?” I point down at the begging dog. He’s followed me, the leash still clutched in his jaws.

Conner slips his phone into his back pocket once he jumps up and says, “I’m on it!”

“Oh. I just remembered—talked to the planner today,” I say. “Melissa.” Conner takes his keys from the key rack by the front door. “She said she found a Lutheran church that we should take a look at. Says it’s available for when we want and has some really pretty stained glass.”

Even though this said Lutheran church isn’t my ideal venue, I
should
sound thrilled to discuss wedding details. Normally I’m like a kid in a candy shop when I get to talk about my big day. But I think I’ve been hit with a wave of exhaustion and, yes, I’m not too fond of walking down the aisle in a church where they’ll probably play some loud organ music. Or where they won’t allow dogs to be the ring bearers. Or where rose petals can’t be tossed because they could soil the carpet. So many rules I’m forecasting, the mere thought of checking out this, as Melissa puts it, “heavenly designed chapel” is anything but appealing.

Conner’s face starts to fall as he finishes attaching the leash to the dog’s collar. “Uhh…” he groans, “we should talk about that.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I told Melissa we’re not keen on it, but what can we do?” I shrug my shoulders.

“Er…uh…about the church thing in general.”

“Yes?”

I didn’t think it was possible, but Conner looks even more uncomfortable than he did a second ago.

“What?” I press, my voice rising slightly.

“I talked to my parents—been meaning to mention this. Sorry, babe.” He shifts on his feet unsteadily. “My parents aren’t exactly big on the whole church wedding thing.”

I toss up my hands in the air and say, “So? Neither are we. But our hands are tied.”

Still shifting, he says, “They’re not happy with it…but not in the way we are.”

“I’m not following.” What is Conner trying to get at? So his parents don’t want a church wedding. Get in line!

“You know my parents aren’t really the church-going type, right?” he says. This still doesn’t explain anything, so I motion for him to continue. “I told them that we weren’t sure of the venue yet…since they asked.” Schnickerdoodle is now doing an impatient dance. “They practically blew up, Claire. See, my dad’s Mr. Anti-Religion.
All
religions. And my mom…well she’s kind of afraid of churches.”

I scrunch up my brow. It’s the only response I can muster.
Afraid
of churches? Like I’m
afraid
of spiders? And anti-religion? Get over yourself and attend your son’s wedding! Period!

“We’re not asking your dad to convert or go to the confessional!” I nearly shout. I stand with my hands on my hips, now frowning. “And afraid of church? What’s there to be afraid of?”

Conner heaves a heavy sigh and opens the front door. The pup nearly bolts out the door, yanking Conner’s arm and causing him to jerk forward a good foot. He steadies Schnicker and says, as he’s about to step out the door, “I meant to tell you this when I talked to them last week.”

“Conner,” I whine. “You’ve
got
to tell me these things. I’ve got this planner running around trying to find a venue—a church, no, a
Lutheran
church—for our wedding, and now you tell me churches are complete no-go’s?”

He doesn’t respond.

“Whatever,” I say, turning to go into the kitchen. “I’ll call up Melissa and deal with this.” I look back at Conner, who’s on the porch now. “I love you, Conner, but you need to be more on top of this wedding than you are.”

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “At least there’s hope of getting married at that Chessfold House.” He blows me a kiss goodbye and says we’ll figure this out together when he gets back from walking the dog.

As the front door closes, I reach into my purse for my cell phone and dial Melissa’s number, mumbling to myself, “It’s Chanfield Manor. Chanfield. What’s so difficult about that?”

***

The morning after next, I’m relieved I only have a three o’clock appointment with an elderly, diabetic woman named Sue. And luck would have it that she’s located in Madison Park, not too far from home, so today can be a wedding planning kind of day. God knows I need the extra time. Conner and I have a new set of problems with his parents not wanting a church wedding. Of course, while I was able to glean hope from that disaster—the hope of actually being able to have my manor wedding ceremony—it didn’t take long for me to be brought back down to earth after a call to my dad.

“Claire!” he’d said. “It’s a Lutheran church or nothing. I don’t care what his parents think. Do I have to draw you a picture?” Then he gave a grating chortle, and I swore I could hear his little twit of a girlfriend in the background snickering about something.

“Fine, dad,” I’d told him. “Apparently there’s no convincing you. I wish we could work something out to meet halfway for Conner’s parents, though. You know,
he’s
getting married, too. He’s just as much a part of this wedding as I am.” So he may not be playing as integral a role in planning it, as I, but I suppose I have to pick my battles.

“I don’t care!” Dad had said in a strict tone. “I’m paying the bills. This is
my
daughter’s wedding. It’s a church wedding or nothing.”

I wasn’t in the mood to argue over something that seemed to be a moot point. There clearly wasn’t going to be any convincing my dad, so Conner would have to work on his parents.

I pull into the parking lot of the same Starbucks where Melissa and I first met. Before I attempt to open my car door, I cross my fingers and whisper, “Please work. Please work.”

It isn’t as cold a day today, and almost all of January’s snow is melted away into slush and inconveniently placed puddles. Maybe there’s hope for my car door yet. I give the handle a gentle pull, then put some effort behind it and give the door a rough shove. It opens! I’m relieved. Now I hope it stays that way. I’ve been a little on edge lately, particularly with Conner. It’s this whole church business, that’s all. Once that’s settled, things will be back to happy planning.

To my surprise, Melissa beat me here, and she’s already seated at the same small table in the corner.

“What can I get for you this morning?” the chipper barista asks me.

I think Sophie and I had a little too much wine last night when she came over to help me with some more bird cutouts. I have a headache that seems to be getting worse by the minute. I know I need more water, but when at Starbucks you can’t just walk in, order a water, and call it a day. So I pick up a bottle of water, hand it to the teenager behind the counter, and say, “This and a tall coffee, please. House blend’s fine.”