A Very Perry Wedding by Marie Landry
CHAPTER SIX
I’ve just pulled three pumpkin chocolate chip loaves out of the oven when I hear Gwen and Evan’s voices in the café. I pop the loaves on a cooling rack, taking a moment to inhale the spice-scented steam before removing my oven mitts and leaving the kitchen.
“Hey!” Gwen says, her eyes wide and overbright. She tosses her purse on a chair at the table where Evan is sitting with a couple. The guy looks like a slightly older version of Evan, and the beautiful Black woman beside him is sporting a perfectly round baby bump, so I’m guessing they’re Evan’s brother and sister-in-law, Malcolm and Sherée.
I wave Gwen forward, and she scurries over without a backward glance. As she approaches, I watch the others; Evan is rolling his eyes while Sherée shakes her head at something Malcolm is saying.
“Trouble?” I ask when Gwen reaches the counter.
“You could say that. Is it a health violation for me to go into the kitchen to hide out for a minute?”
“That bad?” I ask, and she nods. “Come on back then.”
She shoots a glance over her shoulder at Evan. A silent conversation seems to pass between the pair, ending with him giving her a smile and tilt of the head, and her following me into the kitchen. I try to ignore the little tug in my heart that reminds me of how I long for a similar connection with someone.
“What’s with all the tension out there?” I ask, setting about making Gwen a French vanilla cappuccino.
“Where do I begin?” With a heavy sigh, she perches on a stool out of the way. “Malcolm is feeling guilty because he’s had to work a lot lately. He was supposed to take a few weeks off when the baby is born, but his company just got a new project or client or something, and he agreed to work remotely. Sherée is worried he’ll be as swamped working from home as he would be in the office.”
“What does he do?”
Gwen scrunches her nose. “Well…I’m not exactly sure?”
I laugh as I set a steaming mug in front of her. She’s peering at the cooling pumpkin bread, so I swerve away from the stool I was about to sit on and grab a plate instead. “How do you not know?” I ask over my shoulder as I slice into one of the loaves.
“You know how in Friends nobody actually knew what Chandler did? They knew he had some fairly important job that required him to go into an office and wear a suit, but their knowledge ended there? Then in that trivia game when their apartment was on the line, Rachel blurted out that Chandler’s job was a ‘transponster’?”
I set the plate with the pumpkin loaf in front of her. “So Malcolm is a transponster?”
Gwen lets out a snorty little laugh that makes me grin. “I knew you’d get it. To be fair, Evan doesn’t know exactly what Malcolm does either. After all this time, we’re both too embarrassed to come right out and ask.”
“Gotcha. So what’s the problem? Malcolm and Sherée have been arguing a lot?”
“Yes and no. The real issue is Jasper has been getting on Malcolm’s nerves all day, and Evan and I have been playing referee. Jasper and Sherée have really bonded since she announced the pregnancy. He’s excited to be an uncle for the first time and keeps saying how he’d love to help since, as the oldest of five kids, he’s had a lot of experience.”
Gwen pauses to blow on her drink and take a careful sip. Her eyes slip closed in pleasure, and I can’t help another grin. Seeing people enjoy my creations—even something as simple as a cappuccino—never gets old.
“So Malcolm is jealous?”
“That’s probably part of it, but not because he thinks anything is going on between Sherée and Jasper. I think it’s a combination of him feeling like Jasper is encroaching on their lives, along with his own guilt. We were in my office shortly before we came here and Jasper announced he’s taking some time off work. He wants to be around when the baby comes to help out if needed.”
As Gwen has been talking, I’ve been slicing the rest of the loaves and preparing cinnamon butter. Gwen holds up her empty plate with a hopeful expression, so I slather cinnamon butter on another slice and give it to her. “Doesn’t Jasper manage a bank? Can he just take time off like that with no notice?”
“The short answer is yes. The bank was just taken over by someone new and I think Jasper’s worried about his future there. When he got back to our place this morning, he was on the phone for ages. He didn’t give many details except to tell us he’d saved up most of his holidays and had decided to use them now so he’d be free for anything baby- or wedding-related in the coming weeks.”
“Wow.” When Jasper apologized for his perceived rudeness yesterday, he mentioned receiving ‘distressing news’ about work. I wanted to ask him about it, but didn’t want to appear nosy. Then when he surprised me by being more open than expected, I had forgotten about it. “Where’s Jasper now?”
“We ran into Hugh a while ago and he and Jasper got talking about business. Hugh offered to give him a tour of the offices and answer any questions he had. Malcolm looked like he was about to blow a gasket after Jasper announced he was taking time off, so I suggested Jasper go with Hugh and meet us here later.”
“At least they’re all leaving tomorrow so you won’t have to play referee much longer,” I say. “And Jasper’s going to Hugh and Ivy’s for the night still, right?”
“True,” Gwen says slowly. “I hate that Malcolm and Sherée will miss out on all the pre-wedding fun, but with the way Malcolm and Jasper tend to butt heads, it’s probably for the best.”
I glance at her as I transfer the loaf slices onto a platter that will go in the bakery case out front. Gwen is picking at the last of her bread, her eyes focused intently on me. I narrow my eyes and point at her. “You have your scheming face on, Gwendolyn.”
Her mouth pops open. “I don’t scheme. How dare you.” When I narrow my eyes further, she sighs and drops the last morsel of bread to the plate, rubbing her hands together to brush off the crumbs. “Okay, fine. I was thinking how Jasper would benefit from having a sense of purpose, you know? Something to keep him occupied. Or maybe someone.”
Ahh, so she’s in matchmaker mode. Do I give off some sort of ‘I clearly need a man’ vibes I was heretofore unaware of?
Since Gwen was the one who originally told me about Jasper’s therapy and that Evan had gone with him a few times, I know I’m not breaking Jasper’s confidence by saying, “He mentioned this morning how his therapist thinks he should try to make friends or start dating. Maybe with some time off, he’ll venture out more to meet new people or pick up a hobby. There’s plenty to do in Toronto.”
“Mmhmm, mmhmm.” Gwen presses her lips together and bobs her head, her eyes twinkling. I can practically see the wheels turning in her brain: one singleton plus one singleton equals perfect matchmaking opportunity. It doesn’t help that I inadvertently told her I thought Jasper was cute before I knew he was her future brother-in-law. “Or maybe he’ll meet someone right here in Bellevue. Like, say, during the pre-wedding events we have planned. Say…someone with beautiful auburn hair, killer curves, and an unparalleled talent in the kitchen?”
“Maybe,” I say breezily, leaning my elbows on the counter across from her so we’re eye to eye. She leans in, brows lifting hopefully. “I think what would really make him happy is being useful. I’m sure he could be invaluable to you with the finishing touches for the wedding. Did you ever make your final decision about your bridal bouquet?”
The flash of humor in her eyes tells me she knows she’s been bested. With a little huff, she straightens and pops the last piece of pumpkin loaf into her mouth. “Fine, fine, I know when my matchmaking skills aren’t wanted.”
“Or needed,” I point out. Not that she’ll let that stop her from trying again in the future, I’m sure. “I’m happy with things the way they are right now with my focus being on the café and your wedding. I love you for caring about me, though.” I round the counter and wrap my arms around her. She holds on tight, the way she always does.
“Wanna come meet Malcolm and Sherée?” she asks after we release each other.
I follow Gwen out of the kitchen, pausing to check in with Marisol and add the sliced pumpkin loaf to the display case. Gwen is now sitting with the others, and she makes the introductions when I approach.
Malcolm’s stormy expression is replaced by a warm smile that transforms his whole face. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says, standing and reaching to shake my hand. “Gwen talks about you all the time.”
“I’m so glad we’re finally meeting too,” I tell him. His smile reminds me of Evan’s—easy, open, and kind. The physical resemblance between the three Perry men is obvious, and yet Jasper is so different from his brothers. Meeting Malcolm makes me even more curious about Jasper and what makes him tick.
I get an equally warm greeting from Sherée, who shakes my hand from across the table and then returns her hands to her round belly. Despite the tension and arguments Gwen mentioned, Sherée looks serene, with a beautiful, healthy glow about her.
“Congratulations on the baby. What an exciting time.”
“Exciting all around,” Sherée says. “A new baby, a new Perry.” She winks at Gwen, whose cheeks flush with happiness as she smiles.
I chat with them for a few minutes before excusing myself to get back to work. I add a picture of the new pumpkin loaf slices to Cravings’ Instagram feed and post a new daily promo in our stories before writing it on the staff bulletin board near the cash register so Marisol and the others will know.
Marisol’s soft chuckle announces her presence before I see her. She appears from the office, phone in hand, cheeks rosy from laughter.
“I was just on Twitter and saw a meme for how to insult someone in a way that sounds British,” she says. “You start with ‘you absolute’ and then add the last thing you ate.”
I think about it for a second and then snicker as I say, “You absolute pumpkin loaf.” Marisol knows I’m easily amused, and she feeds my need for word games, jokes, and puns whenever possible. “We should put that on one of the café’s chalkboards and then add it to our Insta stories. We could give a free cookie or something to the funniest one. Maybe take votes, get people engaged.” I spin around on my stool to look for my chalk, chuckling to myself as I mutter, “You absolute pumpkin loaf.” Instead of my chalk, I find Jasper standing on the other side of the counter, his dark eyes wide.
“I…can come back,” he says, sounding uncertain.
“No! No, I wasn’t…it was…” I consider telling him about the British insult joke, but I’m guessing Jasper’s the type whose funny bone is permanently out of joint. “That was directed at Marisol, not you,” I say, gesturing at Marisol, who has moved to my side and is eyeing Jasper curiously.
After introducing them, my gaze sweeps over Jasper as the pair exchange pleasantries. Somehow he looks even better than he did this morning. His cheeks have a hint of color, probably from walking around the Village with Hugh, and his formerly perfectly-coiffed hair is windblown, giving him a more casual look.
I tune back in as Marisol tells Jasper she’ll get him a cup of coffee.
“How was your tour with Hugh?” I ask.
“Very informative. Considering the magnitude of the Village, it’s impressive what a professional, streamlined operation Hugh and Ivy run. Hugh’s philanthropic work is quite admirable too.”
“They’re pretty much the definition of a power couple,” I say. “Plus they’re two of the kindest, most generous, and down-to-earth people I know.”
“Mm.” Jasper has never looked anything other than serious during our brief acquaintance, but he looks even more earnest than usual now, if possible. There’s a deep groove between his brows, and his eyes have taken on a far-off look. He appears to be thinking hard, but he also seems…lost?
“You okay?” I ask quietly.
He blinks, his eyes clearing. “Fine. Thank you.” His gaze shifts past me to Marisol, who joins us and sets a cup of coffee on the counter.
Jasper pays and then politely excuses himself to join the others. I was unaware I’d been watching him until I turn to find Marisol’s eyes on me.
“That man is an onion,” she says.
“Come again?”
“An onion,” she repeats. “Many layers. Deep ones too, if I’m not mistaken.”
I grab a cloth and start wiping down the counter, despite the fact I saw Marisol do it not long ago. Her knowing gaze makes me twitchy, and I need to do something to keep my hands busy. “You got that from the thirty seconds you spoke to him?”
She tilts her head, giving me an enigmatic smile. “Sometimes you just know. You know?” Her attention is across the room now, eyes trained on Jasper. “I imagine it would take someone pretty special to help peel back those layers.”
“What if he’s happy with his layers the way they are?”
Marisol’s lips twitch. “I know you saw that far-off look in his eyes. It’s often true what they say about still waters running deep.”
I want to make a joke about her mixing metaphors—is Jasper an onion or is he a lake?—but her words, paired with what Gwen has told me about her soon-to-be brother-in-law, have me thinking she’s right. It also makes me wonder if Marisol is in on Gwen’s matchmaking scheme and if my two best friends are about to tag-team me.
Before I can say anything, a group of teens come into the café, and I get to work making them the pumpkin spice lattes they order. An unexpected rush follows, keeping me occupied for the next half hour. It seems my social media posts are paying off; at least a quarter of the people who come in mention the discount I posted in our stories. I make a mental note to tell Gwen and Ivy they’re not the only PR mavens around here anymore.
While I’m working, my eyes have a mind of their own and keep shifting to the table where Gwen and the Perrys are sitting. I initially tell myself it’s because Gwen and Evan are my friends and I want to make sure they have everything they need. I can’t deny the real reason, though: there’s something about Jasper that fascinates me. Marisol’s words about layers and water tumble through my brain every time I see him speaking quietly to Gwen or fussing over Sherée, who seems to enjoy the attention.
At the next lull in customers, Gwen comes to the counter to order another round of drinks.
“Seems like you haven’t had to play referee for a while,” I say.
“Everyone’s been playing nicely,” she says with a good-natured eye roll.
“Well, just in case you’re the one keeping everyone on their best behavior, why don’t you go back and I’ll bring the drinks when they’re ready.”
A few minutes later, I make my way to the table with a loaded tray. I slow my approach when I see Malcolm’s stormy expression from earlier has returned. Sherée is laughing at whatever Jasper just said as she shifts in her seat and attempts to get to her feet. Jasper immediately hops up and reaches for her arm.
Malcolm shoves his chair back from the table and stands. “Dude, will you back off? She’s my wife, not yours.”
A hush descends over the café as everyone freezes. It’s like one of those bizarre still-life tableaus. I’m relieved none of the table’s occupants have noticed me hovering a few feet away with my tray because second-hand embarrassment is making heat creep up my cheeks.
Sherée is the one to break the silence. “Malcolm Joseph Perry, what the hell has gotten into you?” She never did make it to her feet before, so she grasps Jasper’s hand now—he’s still frozen in place beside her—and hauls herself up with an exasperated sigh. “Malcolm and I need some air. We’ll be back.” She turns and gives her husband a shove toward the door. I know it shouldn’t be funny, but Sherée’s feistiness paired with Malcolm’s chastened expression has me swallowing laughter.
I proceed toward the table, where I set the tray down wordlessly. No one says anything as I unload the drinks. Jasper blinks a few times before sinking into his seat. He looks as if he’d like to keep going until he’s all the way under the table.
I’m about to tuck the tray under my arm and flee when Evan says, “You know how some people joke about things like sympathy pains and partners gaining weight when their wives or girlfriends are pregnant? I think Malcolm has a case of sympathy hormones.”
Gwen and I laugh. When Jasper’s gaze remains distant, Evan reaches out and claps him on the shoulder. “He’s tense and he’s taking it out on you because he knows you’re a safe space and will love him no matter what.”
Jasper looks surprised by this. Hell, I’m surprised by this. Gwen has always said one of things she loves most about Evan is how in tune he is with his emotions and the feelings of others, and she wasn’t kidding.
I peek toward the front window. Malcolm and Sherée are standing just outside. She has her arms folded under her breasts and seems to be doing all the talking while he bobs his head and rubs her belly with one hand. When he finally speaks, Sherée laughs and drops her arms to wrap them around him. Their brief hug is followed by a kiss. And another kiss. And…oh my, they’re really going for it. Watching them makes me feel like a voyeur, so I pry my eyes away and hope no parents pass by with little kids.
The pair come back inside a few minutes later, both of them flushed from the chilly air and likely from their quick round of tonsil hockey. Sherée veers off toward the bathrooms while Malcolm returns to the table, sitting in his wife’s former seat next to Jasper.
“I’m sorry,” Jasper says quickly. “I know I’ve been overstepping and I didn’t mean—”
Malcolm holds up a hand to cut him off. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I know it’s been nine months and the baby is nearly due, but part of me is still in shock. I’m about to become a father, which is so surreal. I’ve been missing Mom and Dad lately, and wishing they were here for the birth of their first grandchild. Wishing they were here because they always knew the exact right thing to say.”
Emotion clogs my throat. I feel even more like a voyeur now than I did a few moments ago watching Malcolm and Sherée. Catching Gwen’s attention, I tilt my head toward the counter and quietly slip away. I’m refilling the bakery case a few minutes later when a loud thumping sound draws my attention back to the Perrys’ table.
Malcolm and Jasper are embracing; Malcolm is holding on tight while Jasper’s arms loosely encircle his brother. Malcolm laughs and gives Jasper another thump on the back. “We’ve been over this. I’m expressing my love for you, not trying to extract one of your kidneys with a teaspoon. Hug me back properly.”
I can’t see Jasper’s face, but I hear his soft laugh. Some ridiculous, irrational part of my brain wants to run over to see his expression. My heart turns to warm, melty goo as he wraps his arms around Malcolm tighter and the two of them hug for a long moment, speaking quietly to each other.
My gaze shifts around the table and locks on Gwen’s. She’s watching me instead of the two brothers. Her smile is small and knowing, and it makes me want to slink down behind the counter where she can’t see me. Even if I did, I’m afraid there’d be no escaping this spark of interest toward Jasper that’s lit itself inside me.