Party of Four

The Proofs - Riley

I waited until Poppy was down for her afternoon nap and Nica was engrossed in a book before I snuck out the back door. It almost felt like being a teenager again, sneaking out to meet a girl. Except, the girl was my mother and the secret was an email attachment of digital professional proofs that held the key to our next twelve months.

Mom was sitting at the kitchen table, her laptop already open. The smell of cinnamon tea filled the cottage. It was a sharp contrast to the baby powder and laundry detergent scent that had taken over the main house.

“Maya sent them over about an hour ago,” mom said. Her eyes were bright with excitement. “Riley, they are breathtaking, better than I even hoped.”

I sat in the chair beside her as my analytical mind switched gears, and she turned the computer towards me. I wasn’t looking for just a “pretty” photo. I was looking for something that would anchor a save-the-date card in a gothic-themed wedding without giving away anything.

We scrolled through the first few. There were the candid ones. Cole had somehow managed to look rugged and soft at the same time. Nica looked radiant, like a painting. Then we hit the “bridge” series.

“That’s the one,” I said, pointing to a shot where we were crossing the bridge, walking away from the camera. The lighting was moody, and the willow branches framed us like lace. It looked anxiety, mysterious, and deeply romantic. “I feel like it hints at the Castellano, but doesn’t give it away. Nica will just think it’s a beautiful shot of us.”

Mom nodded, her finger hovering over the trackpad. “I agree. We’ll use a heavy, cream-colored cardstock. Something that feels substantial when people hold it. No magnets, no cheap gloss. It needs to feel like an invitation to an event, not a reminder for an appointment.”

We spent the next hour debating the layout. I wanted the font to be something elegant, and maybe have a bit of a sharp, old-world edge.

“And the wording?” mom asked as we made our selections.

“Simple,” I replied. “Save the date for the commitment ceremony,” I paused, debating the order of our names. I also didn’t want to list the venue yet. It would give too much away before I was ready.

Mom looked at me, her expression softening. “You’re doing a good job, Riley. Managing all of this, the house, the baby, Nica’s recovery, and still trying to surprise her with this.”

“She deserves it,” I said, and I meant it. “She spent nine months being the vessel for our daughter. The least I can do is spend a year building her fairytale.”

“I’ll place the order today,” mom promised. “Then we can show Nica.”

“Perfect,” I yawned as I stood up. I needed to get back before Poppy woke up or Nica started to wonder where I’d disappeared to. “She’s going to love it. I’ll work on the guest list tonight.” I took one last look of the bridge photo and smiled.

As I walked back across the yard, the crisp October air hit my face. I thought about how the plan was beginning to move outside of the binder and into the real world, one secret at a time.

“Where’d you go?” Nica asked from the second floor landing. She was barefoot, wrapped in her cherry nightgown and matching robe, her hand resting on the railing while I slid the glass door shut.

“Just checking in with mom,” I smiled as I watched her disappear behind the arched wall. I met her in the entryway at the foot of the stairs. “She said the photos are coming along great. We’ll have them back soon.”

“I can’t wait,” she smiled. Her arms slid around me and I kissed her forehead.

Neither could I. “Hungry?” I asked.

“Starving,” she admitted. “Poppy’s still out and for once I feel like I actually have the energy to eat a meal instead of just grazing on the snacks Gwen brings over.”

“I’ll make you something.” I kissed her temple again then led her into the kitchen.

Even as I started pulling out ingredients, my mind was shifting to the guest list. I needed to cross-reference Nica’s phone contacts with the list from the baby shower. I wanted to make sure every person that mattered to her received that card in the mail. I wanted them to feel the weight of what we were building before they even stepped foot in the Castellano.

I caught Nica watching me while I sliced chicken. She was sitting at the island, her chin resting in her hand. There was a soft, hazy look of contentment in her eyes. “You’re thinking about something,” she accused gently. “I can see the gears turning. Is it the commitment ceremony. You’re worried about the guest list, aren’t you?”

I paused, a bit of chicken still on the knife. I had to be careful. “Just thinking about the logistics,” I offered a half-truth. “Making sure we don’t miss anyone. I want it to be perfect for you.”

“Riley,” she reached across the counter and took my free hand. “It’s already perfect. Look at us. We have Poppy, we have this house, we have each other. The ceremony is just the bow on top.”

I smiled and squeezed her hand. I knew she was trying to downplay it because of the disappointment she’d suffered with her ex. There was a part of her that was still scared of getting her hopes up only to be let down.

“I know,” I pulled away so I could wash my hands and season the meat with cross-contaminating anything. “But I like a really nice ribbon.” Before I touched anything else, I pulled her into a long, lingering kiss. I could taste her peach lip balm and smiled. The kiss felt like a promise. One I was more than happy to keep making for the rest of my life. It was a grounded moment in the middle of all the high stakes secrets I was keeping.