Chapter Eight
Gabby
Everything really began to go downhill on Friday. No, I mean it. I know you're probably thinking, "Oh, Gabby, that's impossible!" Or, "Things haven't been going too well for you up until now!" Or, "Surely, you're exaggerating?" But trust me, everything up until then was...sort of a rehearsal. The big show was about to begin.
By the time I got up Friday morning. Derek and Wyatt had already left for the mud run. I had vague memories of having been disturbed earlier by Derek's alarm going off, and the noise of his moving around the wagon getting dressed, and then again by the sound of Wyatt's motorcycle departing—fucking loud-ass machine. But I'd tuned it all out and gone back to sleep.
Even though the week was not going at all as planned, I was happy that Derek was at least getting to spend some time with his family; and I decided to do the same. I spent what was left of the morning helping my mom and sister with their chores. Then after lunch, I invited them back to the wagon to show them my dress.
"Is this door new?" Arielle asked, playing with the complicated-looking latch that, secured the cat door. As I'd mentioned earlier, it had apparently been designed with a very talented and unusual cat in mind. "I don't remember seeing it here before."
"Delaney Bennett said she'd just installed it," I explained. "But when did you see the wagon before?"
"Oh, you know." Arielle waved vaguely. "Last October. I went to Liz for a reading. No big deal, I just didn't recall it being here, that's all. For that matter, I don't remember her having a cat, either. Maybe that’s new too?"
"This was at the Fall Festival," my mother explained. "It takes place around Halloween. Maybe this year you and Derek could come out for a visit?"
"Maybe," I answered. I was puzzled by the preoccupied expression on Arielle's face. She'd been distracted all day, but this seemed extreme. "Exactly what did Liz tell you?"
If some fortune teller had told my sister she'd meet the man of her dreams this summer, that he'd be tall and handsome and ride a big motorcycle, that might explain her behavior the night before. But Arielle just shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. I don't really remember now. But she's an interesting character, for sure."
"This place feels very authentic," my mom said, as she looked around. "Now that I've seen it, I'm sorry I didn't come for a reading myself. Maybe, when you come out in October, we could all get readings? Assuming she's here again this year. I wonder if Hailey would know? I'll have to remember to ask next time I see her."
What I wondered was how a trip she'd proposed less than a minute earlier had gone from possible to all-but-certain in no time flat.
Apparently, my sister was thinking the same thing. "Gabby hasn't said she'd be here. I imagine her husband will have something to say about that. Who knows if they can even afford it, with the baby and all." She fixed me with a stern glance. "Are you going to continue working now that you're pregnant?"
"I don't know," I said, feeling uncomfortable. "I guess it depends on how I feel." Walking multiple dogs while hugely pregnant didn't seem all that feasible—or safe. I loved working with animals, but, "Maybe I'll look around for something else. In the meantime, don't you want to see my dress?"
"Of course, we do," my mother said excitedly.
Arielle looked less enthusiastic, but she nodded just the same. "That's why we're here."
I got the gown out of the closet where I'd stashed it, and quickly slipped it on. It was beautiful. A floor-length, strapless, ballroom-style gown, white with a sky blue sash—which I'd chosen as a nod to the Sapphire Falls obsession with the color, and because I knew my mother's dress would be blue. It was very simple, very elegant. And it fit perfectly. I loved it.
I twirled in front of the mirror, feeling excited and—let's face it—relieved by how well everything was finally coming together. Was it the wedding of my dreams? Not quite. But it would do.
"Why don't we go back to the house now?" Arielle asked, after she and my mother had oohed and ahhed over my gown. "I want to show you the dresses I picked out for me and the girls."
"Good idea." Arielle was my maid of honor. And I'd asked my nieces, Cassie and Jo, to be bridesmaids. My sister and I had discussed the colors I wanted, then she'd sent me pictures of some dresses that were available. But I'd left most of the details to her. "I'm dying to see them."
I changed out of my gown, and left it hanging on the back of the bedroom door. In hindsight, not a great idea. But, I didn't want to keep them waiting and, as I said, I was feeling more like my usual optimistic self. What could possibly go wrong?
As we crossed the lawn on our way back to the house, I noticed that the afternoon was slipping rapidly away. It was later than I'd realized, and Derek and Wyatt were still not back. That didn't surprise me, or worry me, all that much. Typically, after a mud run, everyone went down to the river to cool down and wash off some of the mud. Although, really, it was just an excuse to party, and drink, and have a good time. Neither of the guys knew about that particular tradition, of course, but Sapphire Falls being the friendly place it is, I figured someone was sure to invite them to come along.
All the same, if they didn't get back soon, they might not make it to York in time to pick up Wyatt's suit. But thinking about my soon-to-be brother-in-law brought to mind Arielle's strange behavior of the night before. I wanted to ask her about it, but with my mother there, it didn't seem like the time.
As far as I could tell, my mother hadn't said anything to her about it either. Was it possible she hadn't heard? Or didn't she care? Neither possibility seemed likely. Although, maybe, with all the new IAS people in town, the Sapphire Falls grapevine wasn't what it used to be.
We were not quite at the house when the persistent humming noise I'd been ignoring for the better part of a minute, became too loud to tune out.
"Damn, that bike is noisy," Arielle said turning her gaze in the direction of the road.
Bike? I followed her gaze. A cloud of dust was speeding along the drive, like a dirt devil on wheels. I could vaguely make out the two figures seated atop the motorcycle. And just like that, I felt my temper spark. Seriously? They couldn't have taken the truck like normal people? At least they were wearing helmets.
"I thought Derek said he was going to get something to muffle that sound?" My mother complained.
"I guess he's been a little busy," I muttered grumpily in response. "What with the wedding and all? Besides, it's not even his bike. Why should that be his responsibility?"
By then, Wyatt had caught sight of Arielle. He flashed her a mischievous grin and gunned his engine in a move that was pure high school. I sighed in frustration. See, Derek? I wanted to say. It's not just small-town folk who act like teenagers.
Showing off for a girl? Totally expected. But anyone who'd grown up around farms, could probably have predicted the kind of chaos that was about to ensue.
The chickens were the first to react. They scattered like buckshot, flapping their wings and squawking loudly. The dogs took off after them, as they do, barking excitedly, as they chased the birds across the lawn. The goats in the field adjacent to the drive all bolted, leaping away from the fence and high-tailing it toward the far end of the pasture as fast as their little legs would take them. Which, as it turned out, wasn't very far. Most of them dropped to the ground after only a few steps and lay stiff-legged on their sides.
Wyatt pulled his bike to a stop and shut off the engine. "What the fuck just happened?" he asked, his face ashen.
Derek was looking startled as well. "Dude...I think you killed them."
I clapped my hand over my mouth. Beside me, Arielle gulped back a strangled sound. But it was no use. We took one look at each other and broke into peals of laughter.
"Stop that, you two," my mother said tensely. "It's not funny." Oh, but it was.
Wyatt stared at us in horrified surprise. "You're laughing?"
Derek raised an eyebrow. "Gabe? What's going on?"
"They're fine," I blurted when I could talk again. "Really. They're fainting goats."
"They're...what?" Wyatt looked confused.
“Mini silky fainting goats.”
"The technical term is Myotonic," Arielle told him. "It's a congenital condition. Their muscles seize when they're startled, and they fall over. But, see? There's no harm done. They're getting up again already."
"It's like an all-over Charlie horse," I explained, as Derek and Wyatt joined us on the lawn. "Only it doesn't hurt."
My mother snorted. "And you know that for a fact, do you?"
"It's what everyone says," I reminded her. We'd had this discussion a few times already.
"Oh, everyone," she scoffed. "Then it must be so. But even if you're right, they were still scared."
"Mom," Arielle said soothingly. "It's all right. It's natural for them."
"Really? How would you feel if you were trying to run away from something big and scary and couldn't move?" Shaking her head, she stalked off to tend to her goats.
"She has a problem with the whole ethics of breeding animals for defects," Arielle explained as she and I shared a long-suffering look. I tend to think of myself as being a soft-touch emotionally, but I've got nothing on my mom.
"She kind of has a point," Derek said. "From a purely evolutionary perspective, it seems like a terrible idea."
"You breed them that way on purpose?" Wyatt asked. He sounded perplexed. I couldn't blame him. When you put it that way, it did seem rather odd.
"They're popular in petting zoos," I told him. "It's a novelty, I guess. But, yeah, if they were in the wild, they wouldn't survive very long."
Derek slung an arm around my shoulders. "I can't believe that you, of all people, were laughing at those poor misfortunate creatures."
I looked at him in surprise. "What are you talking about? Of course I wasn't laughing at the goats—I'd never do that. I was laughing at the two of you."
"Oh, that's better," Wyatt grumbled.
"If you could've seen the look on your face..."
Arielle grinned. "That was funny."
I smiled. "It was. But it was also very sweet of you both to be so concerned."
"Whatever," Wyatt muttered as he and Derek rolled their eyes. "Dude, we need to get changed if we want to be ready by the time your friend gets here."
"Good idea," Arielle said. "Wyatt, why don't you wash up in the house? It'll save time if the two of you don't have to take turns."
"Sounds great!" Wyatt flashed her a smile. "Lead the way."
I felt conflicted as I watched them walk away together. I wasn't sure what my sister was up to. Was she just being nice, or was she trying to get Wyatt alone? And why had he sounded so eager? Was it too much to hope that the two of them merely wanted to give Derek and me some time by ourselves?
Whether or not that was their thinking, that last idea sounded pretty good to me, so I took hold of Derek's hand started toward the wagon. "C'mon. Let's you sorted out. You can tell me all about your day. Was it fun? Did you go to the river after the run?"
Derek nodded. "It was and we did. Some guy named Bennett had a party boat. They fed us lunch and loaned us tubes, and we floated down the river for a bit. Nice people. I gather most of them thought your brother was cheated out of the title of Festival King, however."
"Yeah. Rafe seemed pretty disappointed as well. But there's always next year. Besides, IAS has done a lot for the town, so choosing two of their employees to be king and queen seems kind of fair." I stopped as we approached the wagon. Something was wrong. "What in the world?"
The wagon appeared possessed. It was rocking from side-to-side, and emitting weird noises. My mother's big sheepdog, Blue, was standing on the front steps, snuffling loudly at the cat door.
Derek bounded up the stairs. He shoved Blue aside, and pushed open the door. Then he jumped back in alarm as chickens exploded out of the doorway, followed by Jasper, one of Arielle's two dachshunds.
I felt the blood drain from my face. "Oh, no."
Derek peered cautiously inside. "Doesn't look too bad," he said as he waved for me to join him. "Come see for yourself."
At first glance, everything inside the wagon seemed mostly okay. Messy but basically undamaged. One of the benefits of everything being built-in, I guess. A chair was upended, a few pillows had been knocked on the floor, the cat door was unlatched, but nothing appeared to be broken. That was in the front room. The bedroom, on the other hand...
I started to push open the bedroom door and immediately met with resistance. I glanced at the floor, to see what was preventing the door from opening fully. It took me a moment to recognize the wadded material at my feet for what it was.
"Oh, no," I moaned as a snatched my dress off the floor.
"What's wrong?" Derek asked. His eyebrows rose. "That's not…?"
"My gown!" I wailed as I held it up. It was wrinkled, and stained, and tracked with muddy dog and chicken prints.
At least it isn't torn, I told myself, in an attempt to keep from crying. It didn't work. I burst into tears and threw myself into Derek's arms. To be fair, I can't say for certain that I wouldn’t've cried if I hadn't been pregnant—as Derek had recently pointed out, I can be somewhat stoic—but this really hurt.
"C'mere." Derek sat on the bed, pulled me onto his lap, and held me through the worst of it. "It'll be okay. It's not so bad. We'll fix it, or...or something. Maybe get it cleaned?"
I nodded. I knew he was right. It wasn't the end of the world. It was just a dress. And I hadn't been raised to value material things to that extent. "I guess I deserve this for laughing at you."
I probably also deserved it for not taking the precaution of locking the dress back in the closet. Or for not checking to make sure the wonky latch on the cat door had been secured.
"Don't say that!" Derek sounded surprisingly emphatic. "You don't deserve any of this. It's my fault this is happening."
Well, that was clearly not true. "How could it be your fault? You weren't even here."
"I didn't tell you what happened in Bali," he said, as he launched into a long, confusing story about a volcano and a curse, and something to do with my fish pedicures—which I really didn't understand.
But, boy, I could have killed for one of those just then. I know it doesn't sound relaxing, but there's something about the feel of those little fish chewing on my feet—like dozens and dozens of tiny kisses. It really blisses me out.
"But, Derek," I said when he'd stopped for breath. "You're not superstitious."
"I know." He looked conflicted for a moment, then blurted, "Maybe I should be?"
"Maybe you should have your head examined!" Laughing now, I threw my arms around him and hugged him tight. "I don't care about the dress. Well—okay, maybe I do a little. And I don't care about your stupid curse. It'll all work out. Besides, most of the complications are really my fault."
"How d'you figure that?" Derek asked, sounding more like his usual skeptical self.
"Because I'm the one who didn't check the dates of the festival before we made our plans. I'm the one who insisted we get married here—"
"You wanted your family to be there. I get that."
"And I didn't even think to urge you to invite your brother."
"Really not your fault," he insisted. Then he frowned. "Wait—why is having Wyatt here a complication?"
I bit my tongue. I didn't want to point out that if Wyatt—and his damn bike—hadn't startled the chickens in the first place, my dress wouldn't be a ruined mess. "If we knew ahead of time that he was coming, we might have been able to make better plans for him to stay somewhere else," I said instead.
"Good point."
"But, speaking of which, you should get ready." I gave him one last kiss and got to my feet. "Don't you have to leave soon?"
"Yeah." He sighed, looking spectacularly unenthusiastic. "I can't wait for this damn bachelor party to be over with, so I can come back here to you. Are you sure you're all right now?"
"I'm fine," I promised. "But, while you're in York, do me a favor. See if you can't get your brother a new tent and sleeping bag. Okay?"
Derek nodded. "Good idea. I'll do that for sure."
After the guys left, I showed my dress to my mother. I'd expected her to tell me there was nothing to be done, but she surprised me.
"Oh, that's easy enough to fix," she insisted. "After we brush off the mud, and it's washed and pressed, it will be good as new."
"Do you really think so?" Arielle asked, she looked as skeptical as I felt. "It's kind of a mess."
I nodded sadly. It didn't seem possible to me either. I know I said it was just a dress, but on the other hand, it wasn't "just" anything. It was my wedding gown.
"Would you stop that?" My mother snapped crossly. "You don't know everything, Arielle."
"I never said I did."
"Words have consequences, you know. Just like actions."
"You think I don't know that?" my sister replied angrily.
"You don't act like you do."
I stared at them both in surprise. This had to be about Wyatt, right? What had happened while I was in the wagon, crying over my dress?
Before I got the chance to ask, my mother turned her glare on me. "And you need to stop acting like everything's an insolvable crisis that no one else can handle. Just leave this to me and you'll see I'm right. Now, go on," she said as she shooed us out the door. "Get out of here. You two go out and have a good time. And don't worry anymore—about your dress, or anything."
I nodded unhappily as we headed out of the house. It seemed to me there was a lot we should be worried about.