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“Didn’t you say I was perfect?” Samantha joked.
“All my daughters are close to it,” Muriel replied with a smile. Her daughters, Samantha, Cecily and Bailey, like their mother, were the uncrowned royalty of Icicle Falls. The family owned Sweet Dreams Chocolate Company. Often referred to as Sweet Dreams Chocolates or simply Sweet Dreams, it was the town’s source of both employment and chocolate.
“The problem,” Muriel continued, “is that when we consider our men’s flaws, we always think we’ll be able to fix them.”
“But what you see is what you get,” Dot added.
Griffin couldn’t help recalling what she’d seen before she left the house. Was that what she wanted to get? Okay, he wasn’t all that bad. He was nice, fun-loving.
Lazy, inattentive.
“Well, I liked what I saw and I’m glad I got him,” Bailey said with a decisive nod.
“Me, too,” seconded her sister Cecily.
“Me three,” Samantha chimed in.
“I’m keeping mine,” said Dot Morrison’s daughter, Tilda, the cop.
Stacy laughed. “You’re too newly married to get tired of him.”
Was Griffin tired of Steve? Was that the problem? And they weren’t even married yet.
“Okay, it’s time for a game,” Stef announced and pulled out sheets of scrambled words for everyone to puzzle out. “These are all things you find at a wedding. I’ll give you two minutes.”
Griffin found it hard to concentrate on the game. She kept mulling over what Muriel had said. The mulling didn’t end with the game. It continued as she opened presents and Stef put together her “practice wedding bouquet,” an arrangement of ribbons and bows mounted on a paper plate.
“A baby for every ribbon you break, kid,” Dot teased as Griffin tore a ribbon on a box from Stacy.
How many little Steves did she want, anyway?
She opened the box to find a lovely illustrated wedding memories scrapbook that offered her opportunities to record how he popped the question (“Hey, babe, I’m getting a raise. Let’s get hitched.”) to where they were honeymooning (they still hadn’t decided—he wanted to hang out in Seattle, she wanted Hawaii).
“What a lovely way to store all those happy memories,” said Muriel.
Happy memories, happy times—fake happy smile. What was wrong with her? This was her bridal shower, for crying out loud. She and Steve were finally getting married. She should be having fun. She should be ecstatic.
With the presents opened and the loot piled up by her chair, the women agreed it was time for more punch. As they moved back to the kitchen, Griffin found herself next to Muriel.
“Do you know where you’re going on your honeymoon?” Muriel asked. “Or is Steve surprising you?”
“We haven’t decided,” Griffin said.
Muriel nodded as if it was completely normal for people not to know where they were honeymooning in two months.
Griffin gnawed on her lip. Should she fess up here, at her bridal shower, that she was having second thoughts? At least if she did, then everyone could take their gifts back home with them. She wished her mom and grandma had been able to come. Mom had the flu, and Gram wouldn’t drive all the way up from Lake Oswego by herself. If Mom was here...
“Is everything okay?” Muriel asked gently.
Griffin found herself shaking her head. “How did you know your husband was the right one?”
“I had two husbands, and each time I knew.”
“But how?”
“By looking at him and seeing us together in the future and feeling happy about it. Each time I could hardly wait to start our new life together.”
There was the problem. Griffin could wait. They’d already started their new life and she wasn’t all that happy. “I don’t feel that way. I think I want...more.” Once upon a time, when they were younger, Steve had been enough. But now... What did she want? What was she holding out for, anyway? There was no Mr. Darcy. There was no mysterious, passionate Mr. Rochester. There was no Rhett Butler. Most men were Steves.
Except you wouldn’t think so to listen to the Sterling sisters. Or Tilda the cop, who’d let Griffin off with a warning a few months back when she slid through a stop sign; Tilda had said married life was making her mellow. Even Stef, although she complained about Brad’s unfinished projects, seemed pretty content with her life.
“Then perhaps you should hold out for more,” Muriel said. “There’s no shame in changing your mind.”
“At your bridal shower?”
“At any time before the big day.”
Griffin nodded, taking that in. “Thanks, Mrs. Wittman.”
She returned to the punch bowl for a refill and tried to assess her situation. She still loved Steve—at least she thought she did—but somehow it was no longer a big love. Was it a good idea to get married when your love had shrunk? Probably not.
She took a sip of punch and tried to screw up her courage to expose her cold feet. Around her everyone was chatting and laughing. The only one not having fun at her bridal shower was her. If that wasn’t a sign, what was?
The party was about to break up when Griffin stopped everyone in their tracks. “Thank you all so much for doing this for me. But...” Oh, boy, this was so embarrassing. Some of these women she still didn’t know all that well. She felt like a fool.
But after listening to everyone talk, she realized she couldn’t go through with her wedding. And she certainly couldn’t keep their gifts. “I need you to take back your presents.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Tilda said, staring at her.
“I can’t. I think... Oh, crap,” Griffin said and fell onto the nearest folding chair.
Muriel joined her and laid a comforting hand on her arm. “It’s a lady’s prerogative to change her mind.”
“Griff, are you sure?” Stef asked, kneeling in front of her.
“No. I...don’t know. This is feeling less and less right,” Griffin said and wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “I mean, it’s not like I don’t love him. But I don’t think I love him. I mean, I don’t know if I want to be with him forever. I just...don’t know.”
“Not knowing is a pretty big clue that you really do know,” said Cass, who’d taken a seat on the other side of her.
“I feel so stupid,” Griffin muttered.
“Better to feel stupid now than end up being stupid later, kiddo,” Dot put in. “Marriage can be hard enough when you’re crazy about the man.”
And that was the problem. She wasn’t crazy about Steve anymore. Somewhere along the way she’d outgrown him. He was still stuck in college frat boy mode, and she suspected he’d be in that rut for the rest of his life. There had to be more to love than what they had.
“If you’re not sure, pull the plug now,” advised Tilda. “I don’t mind keeping my blender. I needed a new one anyway,” she cracked, coaxing a smile from Griffin.
The bridal shower ended up as a communal shrink session, and by the time Griffin got home, she’d resolved what she had to do.
Steve was still planted in front of the TV, killing avatars. “You back?” he said absently.
“Yeah. I returned all the presents.”
“Presents. Good.”
She walked to the TV and stood in front of it. “I said I returned the presents.”
He frowned and his fingers stopped moving on the game controls. “What?”
“I can’t do this. I can’t marry you.”
He blinked and set aside the controls. “Griff, what the hell are you saying?”
“I’m saying I don’t want to get married.”
He sat there a moment, staring at her. “You’ve been wanting to get married for the last three years.”
She shrugged. “Now I don’t.”
His brows drew together. “You want to just keep living together? Your mom won’t like that.”
“I don’t want to keep living together. I don’t want to be together anymore.”
“What the...?” He leaned back against the couch cushions, dumbfounded. “What the hell did those women say to you?”
“Nothing. It’s what I said to myself.” Behind her, something boomed as one of the players on the screen went down. “This has been building for months. I guess I didn’t want to admit it.”
He shook his head. “You aren’t making any sense.”
“I’m making sense to me.”
He glared at her. “You need to explain how we’ve gone from being a couple to you coming home from your damn wedding shower not wanting to get married.”
She joined him on the couch. “We’ve been drifting. We’re not together for the right reasons anymore. We’re just...a habit.”
“We’re a good habit,” he said and slipped an arm around her shoulders.
She pulled away. “No, Steve, we’re not. Not really. I don’t want this to be the rest of my life.”
“This what?” He held out his hands as if waiting for her to drop a better explanation into them.
“This life we’ve ended up with.”
“What’s wrong with our life? It’s great.”
“It’s boring.”
He shrugged. “Okay, so we’ll do more stuff.”
She shook her head. “No, we won’t. You won’t change.”
His expression made her think of a kicked puppy. “Sorry I’m so boring.”
The apricot torte and punch weren’t playing well in her tummy anymore. “It’s not you.” Well, yes, it was. “It’s just that this isn’t going to work. I see that now. We don’t have enough.”
“Enough what? Sex?”
“Enough...anything. We don’t talk.”
He moved closer again and put his arms around her. “I can talk. What do you want to talk about?”
“Us.”
He frowned. “We’re fine, Griff. I don’t know what those women told you, but they’re wrong. We’re good together.”
“I don’t want good. I want better.” Okay, that hadn’t come out right.
He set his jaw. “So you’re breaking up with me after all these years?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Because you want someone better.” He dropped his arms.
“Just someone better for me.”
That hadn’t exactly softened the blow. His face turned to stone. “Fine. I’ll start packing.”
She felt like the rottenest woman on the planet. “Steve, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, right,” he snapped and stormed out of the living room.
And now they were over. In less than five minutes. Just like that. He’d hardly fought for what they had, which showed how little they had. She stayed on the couch and stared at the stupid avatars on the screen and wished she’d blown up the TV when they first moved to Icicle Falls.
Steve was packed and gone in two hours, leaving her with the parting words “Keep the ring and have a nice life.”
She already had a nice life. And that was the problem. She wanted more. What if she never got it?
What had she done?
Chapter Three (#u985a9382-959c-5e4f-9e34-a15202512408)
Cass returned home from Griffin’s shower to find Dan Masters and Tilda’s husband, Devon Black, packing up their tools.
“We can’t do much more with the ceiling until it dries out, but we’ve patched the hole. Don’t forget what I told you about that roof.”
“I know,” Cass said with a sigh. “I’ve been putting off dealing with it.”
“Some things you don’t want to put off,” Dan warned. “A new roof is one of them.”
