Save the date, p.21
Save the Date, page 21
Rowan turned and looked in the mirror. “Huh?” Her eyes widened as she took in her reflection. “Shit,” she muttered as she grabbed some paper towels and wet them under the faucet. She roughly rubbed all the spots where Laurie’s lips had left their mark—her lips, her cheek, her neck, even her ear.
“Sorry, not sorry,” Laurie said with a shrug.
As she tossed the paper towels in the trash, she rolled her eyes. “What am I going to do with you?”
Laurie twisted the door handle but didn’t open the door. “I don’t know. Maybe you should punish me later.”
Rowan opened her mouth to reply but closed it when Laurie opened the door. “Now you can’t say things to me like that.”
Laurie winked. “Payback’s a bitch, ain’t it?” Rowan huffed and Laurie grabbed her hand and led her down the hallway.
Out in the bar, she could clearly hear and feel the bass from the DJ’s speakers. As they walked farther into the room, Sarah noticed them and grinned. “Have fun?”
“Not nearly enough,” Rowan grumbled.
Laurie smacked her stomach and changed the subject. “So, is it time?”
“Yep. Sorry, Rowan, you’ll have to head in and take your seat.”
“No problem.” She kissed Laurie and smiled. “See you out there.”
Laurie bit her lip and watched Rowan walk away. Sarah snapped her fingers in front of her face. “Sorry. What were you saying?”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “I was saying…You’ll walk out with Adam down the center of the room and up to the head table. Once we’re in there and as soon as people sit down, you’ll be up to start your speech.”
Oh boy…the speech. She hadn’t thought about it at all, too distracted by the hustle and bustle of the day. And then, of course, by Rowan, which was her favorite distraction by far. She’d had her speech written weeks ago, which had kept her nerves at bay. She shook her head and blew out a breath, shifting her focus to the upcoming task. “Let’s do this.”
She held out her hand to Adam just as the song changed. Emily signaled for them to start. They hadn’t planned any kind of dance for their walk across the room so they just smiled and waved to folks they knew until they reached their table where they separated. Laurie stayed standing and Rowan stood alongside her as the DJ started his introduction of Sarah and Joel. They made their way toward the table, showered in applause, whistles, and cheers.
The rest of the evening went by in a blur. There were speeches and dances. Great food and an open bar. Everyone who knew Rowan was excited to see her home and they spent a fair amount of time stopping by each table to say hi and ask how she pulled off her surprise. By the time they had finished with the last table, Laurie was ready for some seat time at the head table, cooling off with a glass of wine.
But Rowan had other ideas. She reached out her hand and gave a slight bow. “May I have this dance?”
Laurie frowned at the up-tempo pop song. She really didn’t want to dance to something so fast. She was about to decline and suggest they sit for a bit instead, when the song changed to something much slower, something familiar. She instantly recognized her and Rowan’s first dance song at their wedding, an acoustic version of, “I Choose You” by Sara Bareilles.
“Did you ask him to play this?” Rowan simply shrugged. Laurie took her hand and intertwined their fingers. “You are such a softy.”
As they made their way to the dance floor and Laurie wrapped her arms around Rowan’s shoulders, Rowan said, “Only when it comes to you.”
She gave her a smile and a gentle kiss. “And cheesy too. Must be why I love you.”
Rowan chuckled and pulled her close. They swayed to the music and Laurie was unaware of anything else. She felt Rowan’s heartbeat as their chests pressed together and she rested her hand at the base of her neck, toying with a few small strands of hair that had come out of her bun.
She felt Rowan take a deep breath before she said, “You know, I was thinking…”
Laurie pulled back, narrowing her eyes. “Good thinking or bad thinking?”
“Good thinking. At least, I think so. You will too. I hope.”
“Okay. Go on.”
“I don’t want to extend and I’m ready to switch to inactive reserve.”
“But I thought—”
“I’m ready to be home.”
Laurie was thrilled at the prospect. She had always been supportive of Rowan’s career but selfishly she missed her wife. “Are you sure? You know I will support you if you want to get your years in and retire. I thought that was your initial plan.”
“It was but things change. And maybe it’s time to start thinking about expanding our family?”
Her eyes widened and she felt the sting of tears. “Really?” she whispered.
“Yes, really. I want everything with you, Laurie. Kids, memories, maybe a new house for all of those kids.”
“Uh-oh. How many kids do we need for a new house?”
Rowan laughed quietly. “Two? Three? I just know that I’m ready for our next chapter to start.” She licked her lips as her eyes got misty. “I promise to love you each and every day…”
Tears fell and Laurie’s bottom lip quivered as she finished the last line of their vows in unison with Rowan. “…through whatever life may bring.”
Grounds for Panic
M.B. Guel
Marnie sighed, looking at the sad animals in the lobby. Her overnight shift at the vet clinic was exhausting and the stream of injured animals broke her heart. Being a vet tech was supposed to be her dream, but she was starting to wonder if she was too soft.
A message from Jenna blinked onto her phone.
Hey, mind stopping by The Filling Station today about catering?
She had almost forgotten Jenna wanted to see if she could get the coffee shop to do a coffee bar at dessert hour of her wedding. It was a bit of an ask since the wedding was two months away, but Jenna saw the idea on Pinterest and had to have it.
Marnie should say she’d deal with it tomorrow. Getting off at six in the morning was enough of an excuse, but the strong people pleaser part of her told her to say yes. It was the hardest part of her personality to break.
Two seconds later she was typing. Send me the address. :)
Bonus, the owner is cute and queer. If I wasn’t in love with Kate…
Marnie snorted. If they were cute, they were taken. She scanned the lobby where a little dog was limping around. She frowned in pity and pushed curly, dark hair behind her ear.
She just needed her shift to end without any more sad patients to make her rethink her career.
Finally it was time. She quickly changed out of her scrubs before heading out, tight jeans on her thick, curvy frame and an old tie-dyed T-shirt tied up near her waist, pausing to pet a dog out front for a quick serotonin boost.
Working graveyards was weird. She always got a burst of energy for the first couple of hours, and even after eight hours in the harsh fluorescence of the vet hospital, she would do some errands before crashing at home, until it was time to start her day around five at night.
Being Jenna’s Maid of Honor was expected. She’d been looking forward to it since Jenna met Kate almost three years ago, and to be honest, she was killing it. Uncomplicated emotional support was her jam.
She suppressed a yawn as she pulled into the parking lot of the coffee shop. It looked like an old gas station with the tiny overhang out front painted a light yellow with white trim and windows all around. The old cherry-red gas pumps were out front, the shop’s logo in the top bubble: a coffee cup that looked like a gas can that said Filling Station.
She admired the cute shop. She was surprised she hadn’t at least driven past it before, but she rarely ventured to the west side of town.
She raised an eyebrow at the number of people in line, slipping past them to go inside. She was hit in the face with the aroma of brewing coffee. The sound of the steam from the espresso machine rang over the loud chatter of the patrons inside.
The shop was about as long as two cars and half as deep. The counter looked original to the place and was maybe ten feet away from the entrance with an old diner menu with plastic lettering stuck to the surface. There was a vintage register on the counter and a beautiful espresso machine beside it. The decor was decidedly eclectic but somehow worked. Little round tables smashed against bookshelves littered with plants, books, and gas station memorabilia. Someone bumped into the back of her as they tried to come in, and Marnie apologized, quickly moving away from the door and toward the end of the counter where people were waiting for their drinks. She saw one worker behind the counter, furiously adding steamed milk to a row of drinks.
She fidgeted nervously for a moment, pulling her plump, pink lip between her teeth. She wanted just to get the catering info and get out, but there was no visible flier or card to take. After driving all the way here she figured the logical thing to do was ask the employee.
She settled in to wait against the wall near the end of the counter, watching as the employee worked. They had on a worn, blue flannel and a baseball hat for some hockey team, sleeves rolled messily up to their forearms to reveal lean muscle working under tan tattooed skin. Dexterous hands poured foam and…
Marnie blushed and cleared her throat, louder than she intended. She couldn’t just be horny on main like this, openly staring at people’s forearms like a freak. Sure, it’d been a while, but she had to have some decorum.
Her throat clearing got the employee’s attention and they turned around. It looked like everything was in slow motion, but maybe it was because Marnie had stopped breathing.
The person was stunning. Their cap was squashed down over brown curls, nearly blocking dark, almond-shaped eyes. Their shirt hung loosely around their built frame, jeans hugging them in all the right places and tucked into heavy, black work boots. She saw that on their knuckles was a tattoo that read, Fuck Off. Somehow it made them more attractive.
Marnie’s heart pounded and her face got redder with each second this person looked at her. She felt like she was trapped in their gaze. Their thick eyebrows furrowed as they set the coffees on the counter without looking away from Marnie.
“Are you here about the job?” they asked, voice like a rumble in Marnie’s chest.
“Uh—”
The person looked down at the silver watch on their wrist. “Just in time.”
They reached under the counter to pull out an apron, tossing it at Marnie. She caught it, wide-eyed and staring as the gay panic dragged her under.
“You can run register while I make drinks,” they said.
She finally blinked herself out of her queer-induced paralysis and shook her head. She had to tell them that’s not why she was there. She had a job.
“Um,” was all she could manage. She kicked herself. She was a smart, capable woman! And yet, put her in the presence of an attractive person and she was useless.
The person blinked. “You’re cute, but you’re going to need to work on those conversation skills.” Their face scrunched up a little. “Not with me. The customers. I’m Quinn, by the way.”
They turned back to making drinks.
She stood there, internally debating whether Quinn was the sexiest name she’d ever heard, or if it was just because the name was attached to a dreamboat.
“Hey, new girl,” Quinn called from behind the counter. They sighed and pushed up the front of their cap a little. “Sorry, I assumed. Pronouns? Name?”
“Marnie. ‘She’ is right,” she said, clutching the apron tighter. She opened her mouth to tell Quinn that she wasn’t actually here for the job, but instead what came out was: “A-and your pronouns?”
“They,” Quinn said with a dismissive wave of their hand. “Now come on, the line is getting out of control.”
Quinn turned back to the espresso machine and Marnie looked at the apron in her hands. She should just fess up that she wasn’t here for the job. She had a job, a good, full-time job that she just came from and kinda just wanted to take a shower and sleep. She gritted her teeth, trying to shake her impulsive people pleasing behavior. She took a deep breath and looked up at Quinn.
Without another thought, she slipped the apron over her head and shuffled behind the register. She smiled widely at the first customer.
“Hello! How can I help you?”
The time flew by. Surprising, since it took Marnie a second to get used to the digital pad set up in front of the vintage register.
The first time she looked up and there was no line, she smiled and let out a long sigh of relief. She looked at the clock on the wall, surprised that two hours had passed already. Once she got in a rhythm, the line dwindled quickly but not fast enough with the continuing onslaught.
“Good job, new girl,” Quinn said. They were still at the espresso machine, wiping down the steaming wand with a rag and not bothering to look at Marnie. “Can I make you a coffee?”
“I don’t really like coffee,” she said casually, eyes on Quinn’s long fingers as they scratched at a stubborn stain on the wand. They froze and looked at Marnie.
“You don’t like coffee?” they asked incredulously.
“No,” she said, drawing out the ‘o’ with an awkward smile. “So, you’re the owner?”
“Yeah, this is my shop. Why would you apply for a job here if you don’t like coffee?”
Here it was. Marnie’s chance to tell Quinn that she wasn’t here for the job. She was just a big gay mess who apparently couldn’t function properly around an attractive person.
Wow, Quinn had really pretty eyes.
“I just prefer tea,” she shrugged. She mentally kicked herself for not correcting the situation but Quinn was just looking at her. It made her palms slick, which she subtly tried to wipe off on her apron.
“You’re weird.”
The bluntness of the statement didn’t bother her. It actually felt like a compliment, the way Quinn said it. Even if she hadn’t seen them smile, she was sure there was one just under their scowl.
“Thank you,” she said genuinely.
Quinn stared at her for another moment and Marnie was starting to feel a tingling low in her belly. She blushed and brought a hand up to her face in an awkward gesture that ended with her cupping the back of her neck just out of sheer not knowing what to do with her hands. Quinn seemed unaffected by her flailing and tilted their head.
“Come meet Cheech,” they said gruffly.
She blinked, a thousand questions on her tongue. Cheech? A partner? One half of the famous stoner duo Cheech and Chong?
Quinn turned on their heels, carabiner of keys jingling on their hip, and pulled back a curtain, disappearing behind it. Marnie followed Quinn cautiously. It was a backroom area, shelves of supplies lining the walls. There was a back door leading outside and a tiny desk that had various colored papers piled all over it.
Quinn let out a sharp whistle and a little chocolate brown head perked up from what looked like a pile of laundry. A chihuahua with long fur, big ears with dramatic fur coming off the sides, and tan paws. Its nails clicked on the floor as it trotted over. Marnie cooed, already in love.
“This is Cheech,” Quinn said. The dog put its paw on Quinn’s knee and they patted its baseball-size head. “He stays hidden down here because, you know, stupid health shit,” Quinn scoffed. “You know, Cheech is pretty clean, besides all the fur. Babies are way dirtier than dogs, if you think about it. They shit in their pants and just sit in it. It’s disgusting. But you can’t tell someone their baby violates the health code.” Quinn rolled their eyes. “Anyway, I didn’t want him to scare you if you came back here to get things. He scared the shit out of someone once. They thought he was a rat.”
Marnie crouched down and Cheech wiggled up to her, putting two paws on her knee so she could scratch his back.
“I love dogs. He’s so cute!” She growled the last bit a little aggressively but Cheech didn’t seem to mind, squirming with his tiny tongue, trying to get at her face.
“Yeah, well, that’s all.” Quinn snapped their fingers and Cheech dropped back on his haunches with a huff. “Go back to bed.”
Quinn turned and squeezed past Marnie to return to the main part of the shop. As they passed, the scent of soap and pine needles mingled among the general overtone of coffee and hit Marnie’s tongue, nearly making her gasp. She almost followed Quinn with her nose but managed to keep herself in one spot, taking one last look at Cheech before following Quinn into the shop.
Quinn glanced at their watch. Now, Marnie thought, would be a good time to mention that she was not in the market for a job. She could already feel the itchy signs of exhaustion behind her eyes. All she wanted was to go home. Suddenly she realized she smelled like a vet office and BO.
“That morning shift kills me,” Quinn groaned. “I’ve been handling it fine but it’s like there are more of them every day. I swear, ever since I got Instagram they’ve been relentless.”
“Customers?” she asked.
Quinn looked up like they forgot she was there.
“How long do I have you on shift?” Quinn took off their baseball cap, running a hand through unruly curls and smashing the hat back on their head. The curls looked so soft.
“Um—”
“Four hours, right?” Quinn mumbled to themself. “I know it’s not much.”
“No, it’s perfect.” Marnie practically sighed. Oh shit.
“Great,” Quinn said. “I’m desperate for help during rush hour. You know how to make drinks?”
She grinned. “I’m a fast learner!”
Quinn shrugged and went back to cleaning. She had so many opportunities to tell Quinn she wasn’t interested in the job. Instead she went over to the trash can behind the counter and tied it up.
“Dumpster is out back.” Quinn threw their thumb over their shoulder and Marnie nodded as she walked outside. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she took it out with one hand, bag of garbage in her other, wet coffee grounds surprisingly heavy.
