Love Unrehearsed
Page 100
“Oh.” She turned to take something out of the oven. “Well, since Ryan is here now, do you think that you can ask him if he’s going to be a groomsman or not? I mean, he hasn’t said anything to Pete and he avoided the topic on Friday when Pete mentioned it. It would be nice to know if I even have a freaking bridal party or not.”
I bristled at her anger. “Yeah, sure. He’s been busy filming a movie so I’m sure he’s not been avoiding anything on purpose. I’ll make sure to ask him to confirm.” Tammy snorted as if that answer wasn’t good enough. “I’m sure he’s been in a great mood since your ex-fiancé has been coming around. Like he needs that crap.” Like I needed that crap—or her crap right now for that matter. I was starting to wonder if all this wedding stuff was turning Tammy into a bridezilla. I certainly wasn’t going to become confrontational even though I wanted to.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to running your business. I’ll make sure to get an answer to Pete.”
I didn’t wait to give her an opportunity to respond, hurrying through the door and up my stairs as if the floor were on fire.
Ryan’s unbelievably nice ass was poking out of my open refrigerator door when I found him in my kitchen. “Everything okay?” I wrapped my arms around his waist, burying my nose in the neckline of his T-shirt. “Can we elope instead?” Ryan snickered and rubbed my back.
“Sure. What brought this on?”
“Planning weddings apparently makes women go insane. I’m pretty sure Tammy’s growing fangs and claws.”
“Oh. That sucks. Is it contagious?”
“God, I hope not.”
He whispered in my ear, “You can always hire a wedding planner to do that shit for you.”
My head popped off his chest when I heard a loud crash and Marie’s high-pitched yell for help coming from the spare room. I found her surrounded by a few boxes and a whole lot of crap spilled out around her feet—clothing, books, and a slew of old videocassette tapes.
“Sorry,” she pleaded, still holding a box from tipping off the top shelf in the closet. I had to laugh at her panicked expression. “I tried to move one and they all came crashing down.”
Mike took the box out of her hands.
“Are these boxes full or what?” Ryan asked, opening one of them.
I folded up one of my mom’s old sweaters and set it aside, trying to clear a path. “That’s all of your fan mail from the last few weeks, hon. You need to either go through it or we need to pitch it.”
He looked astounded and confused. “All of this?”
“All of those boxes.” Marie pointed. “Including skanky underwear, sappy praise, and more death threats.”
He turned on her, and then turned his questioning glare on me. “Death threats?” What could I say? As sick as it was, it wasn’t anything new. Several thousand of his fans hated that he was with me.
Some unspoken message passed between Ryan and Mike before Ryan cursed and then hauled one of the boxes out to my living room.
I boxed up all of the videos, noting that my name was written on the majority of them. Memories. Childhood memories.
Memories that Dan and Jennifer Mitchell made for me.
Without even thinking, I grabbed the box of tapes and sat on my living room floor in front of the television, pressing the tape marked “Fourth of July 1986—Taryn 4 yrs old” into the aging VCR.
Ryan sat on the ottoman behind me.
“Look at you! All curly blond ringlets.” I smiled at my innocent babbling about swimming with my Barbie doll, pushing my oversized sunglasses up my sun-kissed nose.
I had on a little pink one-piece swimsuit with a blue fish on the hip.
Ryan pointed over my shoulder. “Is that?
Yeah, that’s your pappy’s cabin.” I saw the familiar gray cinder-block garage behind me.
And then I saw him. Like a ghost out of my innermost thoughts he appeared, coming out of the garage behind me. Tall, thin, and lanky, walking with the stinted lope of a teenager.
There he was, captured forever on film.
The boy with the black hair.
I felt as though someone poured ice through my veins.
Chapter 15
Discoveries
I stared at the television for so long my eyes hurt. It was like he walked right out of one of my nightmares and presented himself to me.
Here I am—the one who haunts you.
Ryan had moved behind me after telling Mike and Marie we needed a few minutes of privacy. He sat on the floor, holding me while I quietly broke down again.
I bristled at her anger. “Yeah, sure. He’s been busy filming a movie so I’m sure he’s not been avoiding anything on purpose. I’ll make sure to ask him to confirm.” Tammy snorted as if that answer wasn’t good enough. “I’m sure he’s been in a great mood since your ex-fiancé has been coming around. Like he needs that crap.” Like I needed that crap—or her crap right now for that matter. I was starting to wonder if all this wedding stuff was turning Tammy into a bridezilla. I certainly wasn’t going to become confrontational even though I wanted to.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to running your business. I’ll make sure to get an answer to Pete.”
I didn’t wait to give her an opportunity to respond, hurrying through the door and up my stairs as if the floor were on fire.
Ryan’s unbelievably nice ass was poking out of my open refrigerator door when I found him in my kitchen. “Everything okay?” I wrapped my arms around his waist, burying my nose in the neckline of his T-shirt. “Can we elope instead?” Ryan snickered and rubbed my back.
“Sure. What brought this on?”
“Planning weddings apparently makes women go insane. I’m pretty sure Tammy’s growing fangs and claws.”
“Oh. That sucks. Is it contagious?”
“God, I hope not.”
He whispered in my ear, “You can always hire a wedding planner to do that shit for you.”
My head popped off his chest when I heard a loud crash and Marie’s high-pitched yell for help coming from the spare room. I found her surrounded by a few boxes and a whole lot of crap spilled out around her feet—clothing, books, and a slew of old videocassette tapes.
“Sorry,” she pleaded, still holding a box from tipping off the top shelf in the closet. I had to laugh at her panicked expression. “I tried to move one and they all came crashing down.”
Mike took the box out of her hands.
“Are these boxes full or what?” Ryan asked, opening one of them.
I folded up one of my mom’s old sweaters and set it aside, trying to clear a path. “That’s all of your fan mail from the last few weeks, hon. You need to either go through it or we need to pitch it.”
He looked astounded and confused. “All of this?”
“All of those boxes.” Marie pointed. “Including skanky underwear, sappy praise, and more death threats.”
He turned on her, and then turned his questioning glare on me. “Death threats?” What could I say? As sick as it was, it wasn’t anything new. Several thousand of his fans hated that he was with me.
Some unspoken message passed between Ryan and Mike before Ryan cursed and then hauled one of the boxes out to my living room.
I boxed up all of the videos, noting that my name was written on the majority of them. Memories. Childhood memories.
Memories that Dan and Jennifer Mitchell made for me.
Without even thinking, I grabbed the box of tapes and sat on my living room floor in front of the television, pressing the tape marked “Fourth of July 1986—Taryn 4 yrs old” into the aging VCR.
Ryan sat on the ottoman behind me.
“Look at you! All curly blond ringlets.” I smiled at my innocent babbling about swimming with my Barbie doll, pushing my oversized sunglasses up my sun-kissed nose.
I had on a little pink one-piece swimsuit with a blue fish on the hip.
Ryan pointed over my shoulder. “Is that?
Yeah, that’s your pappy’s cabin.” I saw the familiar gray cinder-block garage behind me.
And then I saw him. Like a ghost out of my innermost thoughts he appeared, coming out of the garage behind me. Tall, thin, and lanky, walking with the stinted lope of a teenager.
There he was, captured forever on film.
The boy with the black hair.
I felt as though someone poured ice through my veins.
Chapter 15
Discoveries
I stared at the television for so long my eyes hurt. It was like he walked right out of one of my nightmares and presented himself to me.
Here I am—the one who haunts you.
Ryan had moved behind me after telling Mike and Marie we needed a few minutes of privacy. He sat on the floor, holding me while I quietly broke down again.
