It Was Us Read online

  I stood up and crossed the living room to get it. He stuck out his foot and tried to trip me and I stumbled, grabbing on to the recliner for balance. It tipped backwards and we both fell over, Griffin still in the chair and me landing in his lap.

  “Dude,” he said, laughing. “So this is why you don't wanna marry her. I had no idea...”

  I punched him in the stomach and he grabbed me around the neck, shoving me off of him. I felt around on the carpet, my hand closing over the remote. I got to my knees and held it up in triumph. “Victory!”

  Abby shook her head and rolled her eyes but she was smiling. I plopped back down on the couch next to her.

  “You think we should get married now or wait?” Abby wasn't talking to me; she was asking Griffin.

  He picked up his beer. “You want my opinion?”

  She nodded.

  “Now,” he said decisively.

  “Really?” she asked. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Why not? What's the point in waiting?” His eyes shifted from Abby to me. “You guys know you're gonna be together. You're having a kid. Why wait?”

  “What about insurance?” I asked, looking at Abby. “Do you lose coverage if we get married before the baby's born?”

  She shook her head. “No. I can have coverage until I'm 26. Not that it's worth much,” she said, her voice laced with disgust.

  I knew what a shitty time they'd had, fighting for benefits for her mom. It was one of the reasons Abby had gone to work at the office, to help keep the cash flow coming in so they could pay the mounting medical bills.

  “You guys don't want anything big, right?” Griffin asked. “I mean, with your dad in the slammer and your mom who-knows-where, it's not like you have a lot of schedules to work around.”

  I saw Abby flinch at his crude explanation, but he was right. I didn't have a ton of people to invite. Sure, I could send invites to my baseball buddies at USD, could invite the guys I worked with at the Academy. And I knew Abby had people she could extend invitations to—friends at Mesa and people in the real estate world. But, when it came down to it, there were only a few people who really mattered.

  “Do something small. Something on the beach.” He grinned and drained the rest of his beer. “Boom. Done.”

  Abby narrowed her eyes at him. “Have you been talking to Tana?”

  He raised his eyebrows, an innocent expression forming. “Who, me?”

  She smiled and shook her head.

  “What can I say?” he said, his smile stretching from ear to ear. “Great minds think alike.”

  FORTY THREE

  ABBY

  I stared at my reflection in the dressing room mirror.

  “Well?” Tana demanded from outside.

  “I don't hate it.”

  “Finally.”

  I threw open the door and stepped out. She looked up from her phone and an appreciative smile formed. “Hey. That actually looks nice!”

  “Gee, thanks.” I folded my arms across my ample stomach.

  “You know what I mean,” she said. She stood up and moved closer, examining the long white dress I was wearing. “It looks like you.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  She put her hands on my shoulders and spun me around, checking out the back. “It means you don't look like a puffed pastry. You look like Abby. Wedding Day Abby. You know, like Wedding Day Barbie.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Pretty sure she wasn't knocked up in her wedding dress.”

  Tana waved her hand in dismissal. “Puhleeze. Pretty sure she's been sleeping with Ken for years. And what's the other guy's name? The dark-haired guy?”

  “That's still Ken.”

  She shook her head. “No, it's not. He had a different name.”

  “I'm scared that you know these things.”

  “You should be more scared that we played with slutty dolls growing up. That's probably how you ended up like this. They were a terrible influence.”

  I laughed. God, I missed having my best friend around. She'd surprised me by coming home the weekend following the fourth of July. She'd marched into my parents office at five o'clock on Friday night and had insisted on going dress shopping.

  “No,” I'd told her. “We haven't even set a date.”

  She'd frowned at me. “You haven't set a date because you're worried about finding a dress. I know you. So we're going. I've set aside my entire weekend to go dress shopping. And I'm not going back to San Luis until you find one.”

  Which was why it was Saturday afternoon and we were in our fifth dress shop and I was still trying on wedding dresses.

  “I like it,” she said, fingering the fabric of the dress. “Like, really like it.”

  I was hesitant to admit it, but I did, too. It was a soft jersey material, a simple white dress that flowed seamlessly. The beaded neckline added just enough to make the dress special, dipping enough to show off my bigger cup size, and the empire waist flattered the growing bump that was my stomach.

  She reached for the price tag and whistled.

  I sighed. “That much?”

  “No. That little. It's under three hundred bucks!” She spun me back around so I was facing her. “You have to get this dress. It's perfect for a beach wedding.”

  “Who said anything about a beach wedding?” I studied my reflection in the mirror. It really did look good on me.

  “Where else are you gonna have it?” She plopped herself back down in the oversized arm chair. “You guys had your first date at the beach. He proposed at the beach. He surfs. We live in fucking Pacific Beach.”

  I smiled and shook my head. “You've got it all figured out, don't you?”

  She nodded her head vigorously. “Totally. I'm thinking you should get married over Labor Day weekend.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Oh really?”

  “Yes,” she said firmly. “I'll be home. Three day weekend, you know. And the beaches will be crowded but not too bad. Zonies will have all left already. And Grif and West know some secluded spots. They could bring their boards and hit the waves after.” I shot her a look and she held up her hands. “Kidding.”

  “And you think we'll be able to find a minister for a wedding in...” I tried to calculate in my head. “...in seven weeks.”

  “You don't need one.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “Seriously. It's like you're on crack or something.”

  “No, no. Hear me out.” She leaned forward in the chair. “Griffin's gonna marry you guys.”

  “What?” I wasn't kidding anymore. I was certain she was doing drugs.

  “I talked to him last night,” she said, her voice triumphant. “He's going to get his Internet marriage license.”

  I braced myself against the dressing room door. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “There's this church online,” she said excitedly. “They're like this New Age-y church that thinks that anyone who wants to should be able to perform marriages. Funerals, too. But that doesn't matter right now. Anyway, all you have to do is submit an application and pay a fee for the certificate. Boom, done. You're an ordained minister.”

  “An ordained minister?”

  She nodded. “How cool is that? Griffin will totally do it for free and guess what? He's available!”

  I just shook my head and sighed. “Anything else you wanna plan for me?”

  She smiled and eyed my stomach. “Well, I do have a couple of names I like for the baby...”

  FORTY FOUR

  WEST

  “You look exhausted,” I said to Abby.

  She was collapsed on the couch, her legs curled up underneath her. She had one hand behind her head, the other resting on her stomach.

  “I am.”

  “Dress shopping that tiresome?”

  “No. Tana is that tiresome.”

  I grinned and tossed my keys on the dining room table. I'd just gotten home from work, an Open House thing for the academy, and was pleasantly surprised to find
Abby waiting for me.

  “You find something you like?” I asked, sitting down next to her.

  She nodded. “I actually did.”

  I squeezed her calf and leaned down to kiss her. “Good.” I glanced around. “Where is it?”

  She elbowed me in the stomach and I groaned. “You can't see it,” she said indignantly.

  I smiled at her. “I know, I know.” I dropped a kiss on her head. “I'm just impatient. I wanna see you in it.”

  “Well, apparently, you might be seeing me in it sooner rather than later.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?” We still hadn't decided on a date.

  She nodded, her eyes closed.

  “Why is that?”

  “Well, after I bought the non-refundable dress, Tana informed me that I had maybe two months to wear it.”

  I frowned. “Why is that?”

  “Because apparently I'd be crossing into 'beached whale' territory if I waited much longer.”

  “Bullshit,” I said dismissively. “You'll look beautiful whenever you wear it.”

  She sighed. “Maybe. But if we wait, Griffin might not be available to marry us.”

  “What?”

  She nodded and pushed herself into a sitting position. “You didn't know? He didn't tell you?”

  “That he can fucking marry people? No, must've slipped his mind.”

  She half-laughed. “Tana was babbling about how he was going to get his marriage license. Marry us on the beach. This is news to you?”

  I laughed, too. “Uh, yeah. Definitely news to me. How the hell is he gonna do that? Attend seminary during the day and bartend at night?”

  “He's applying online. Some church that issues certificates.”

  I laughed harder. “Pretty sure we'd end up right where we are now if we went that route.”

  “Where is that?”

  “Not married.” I smiled at her. “Because it probably wouldn't be legal.”

  She smiled in return and I scooted closer to her. She propped her feet in my lap and I grabbed one and gently began to knead her heels. She sighed and closed her eyes.

  “Maybe you should talk to him about it, then,” she murmured. “Discourage him or something.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I think I will.”

  She opened an eye. “He seriously didn't say anything to you about it?”

  I shook my head. “Not a word.”

  He had talked to me about other things since the night we'd all talked in the living room. Mostly about moving out. I knew we'd have to figure things out, eventually—either I would have to find a place for me and Abby or Griffin would have to move out so we could have the apartment. It was one of those things that I'd been meaning to talk to him about but it seemed like our schedules never meshed, at least not long enough to sit down and have something longer than a five minute conversation. And figuring out our futures were gonna take a little longer than that.

  “He did say he was planning to move out,” I told her.

  The other eye opened and she stared at me. “He did?”

  I nodded.

  “What did he say? Where is he going to go?”

  I shrugged and picked up her other foot. “I don't know. It was kind of a quick conversation. Just said his last month would be August. He'd try to help cover rent for us as long as he could after that.”

  “He doesn't need to do that,” she protested.

  “I know,” I agreed. “I told him that. He just sort of waved his hand and said whatever.”

  “He didn't say what he was going to do?” She made a face. “I feel bad. Like I'm kicking him out.”

  I shot a look in her direction. “Stop. We knew we were going to have to do something. Either he was gonna move or I was. We need two bedrooms. I'd already started looking at apartments.”

  “You did?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Found a couple that might work and was gonna talk to you about them this week. Maybe see about going and taking a look.” I looked at her, trying to read her expression. “And if you want to check them out, we can. We don't have to stay here if you don't want to. Lease is up at the end of September so we'd still have time to move and get settled before the baby.”

  Abby shook her head. “No, no. I want to stay here.” She smiled. “This is what we know. We're comfortable here, you know?”

  “I'm just not sure about sticking a baby in Griffin's room,” I said, grinning. “Gonna need haz mat suits when we go in to clean it.”

  She laughed. “That's your department. All yours.”

  I rolled my eyes and made a gagging sound and she reached up for me and pulled me down, kissing me and laughing. I touched my lips to hers and I knew, without a doubt, that I would do anything to make her happy.

  Including cleaning Griffin's hellhole of a room.

  FORTY FIVE

  ABBY

  “I can't believe you were serious.”

  Griffin's smile was triumphant. “Dude. I am legit.”

  West and I both stared at the piece of paper he was holding. The piece of paper from the Universal World Church that declared him an ordained minister.

  West rubbed his temples. “Holy shit.”

  “Right?” Griffin jabbed at the paper with his finger. “You know what this means, right? All those dipshits who come to the bar and get shitfaced? Who hook up and end up finding their soul mates in my bar? I can fucking marry them!”

  I ripped open the plastic wrap on the Twinkie I was holding. “Who finds their soul mate in a bar?”

  “Lots of people.”

  I took a bite. “Name one.”

  Griffin grinned. “Who finds their soul mate standing in line at Mesa?”

  He had a good point.

  “Anyway,” he said, turning to West. “I can totally marry you guys. If you want.”

  “Let me guess,” West said. We were sitting at the dining room table and he leaned in close to me and opened his mouth. I offered him the Twinkie. He bit off a piece and swallowed it. “You're free Labor Day weekend.”

  “Bingo!”

  West rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Can you believe this?” he asked me.

  Griffin and Tana had been relentless. She'd clogged my Instagram with beach photos and emailed my work account with links to possible wedding locations. She was driving me insane. Griffin had been less obtrusive but he'd clearly done his part in their master plan by going ahead and getting his certificate thing.

  “No,” I said.

  Griffin grabbed a Twinkie from the box and tore the plastic off with his teeth. “It's the next weekend Tana will be down,” he said, his mouth stuffed with cream filling. “And it shouldn't be too busy at the office, right?” He looked at me. “Or at the academy?”

  “They're not gonna stop,” West said to me, his voice low. “You know that, right?”

  I sighed and nodded.

  He reached for my hands. “You still wanna marry me, right? You haven't changed your mind.”

  It was my turn to roll my eyes. “Of course not.”

  “And you don't want a big wedding?”

  I shook my head.

  “And you're fine getting married on the beach?”

  I nodded.

  “By this dumbass?” He jerked his head in Griffin's direction.

  I glanced at West's best friend. He'd wolfed down another Twinkie and was grinning at me, cream filling dotting his chin. I nodded again and Griffin launched himself from the chair, fist pumping like mad.

  “Yes!” he shouted. “My first official wedding.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me out of my chair and whirled me around.

  “Dude,” West warned.

  Griffin ignored him. “I charge two-fifty. But for you guys? Man, I'll totally do it for free!”

  FORTY SIX

  WEST

  “You think this looks alright, right?”

  Griffin's gaze flickered over me. “Yeah, man. You're good.”

  I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. �
�You sure, man? I feel like a monkey.” I tugged at the collar of the shirt I was wearing.

  “You sorta look like one.”

  I frowned at his reflection in the mirror. He was wiping hair gel through his long blond hair, trying to style it. Instead, he looked more like he'd forgotten to wash it.

  “You sure you're doing the right thing?” he asked, his fingers still combing through his hair.

  “What the fuck kind of question is that?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “The way you're freaking about your clothes, I'm sorta wondering if you're marrying the right gender. And, hey, man, I'm totally cool with doing gay marriage ceremonies, too.” I elbowed him in the kidney and he made a face. “Jesus. That hurt, West.”

  “Stop fucking around.”

  He rubbed his side with his gel-free hand, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Someone a little nervous?”

  “No,” I said shortly.

  His smile grew. “Whatever, man. It's not like you're making a huge decision that will change the entire course of your future. Oh. Wait.”

  I lifted my elbow to jab him again but he sidestepped me and laughed. “Chill the fuck out, man. It's Abby. She isn't gonna care what you're wearing or what you look like.”

  I took a deep breath and tried to steady the nerves that were building in my gut. I knew I wanted to marry Abby. Knew it without a doubt. So why the hell was I so goddamn nervous?

  I checked my reflection one more time. I'd gone shopping a few weeks before, tried on more combinations of clothing than I ever wanted to experience again. I didn't know what to wear, which was sort of a problem since it was my wedding. Abby had told me that her dress was simple. White and feminine, she'd said. Which gave me absolutely nothing to go on. So I'd tried on a tux. And a suit. And dress pants with a vest. And tried not to gag each and every time I looked at my reflection in the dressing room mirror. Finally, I'd decided to go with something simple. She knew me, knew I wasn't someone who was gonna try to be something I wasn't on my wedding day. So I'd found a fitted white dress shirt and a pair of khaki pants and held my tongue as the cashier rang me up and gave me the total. The two pieces of clothing cost almost as much as my first surfboard.