Tuesday, January 15, 2013


Caeden got off his phone and plopped next to, kicking up sand around us.
“Your mom?”
“Yeah,” he groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hope she never goes into the wedding planning business full time. She’s a nightmare. If she calls me one more time I think I might explode.”
I laughed and bumped his shoulder with mine. “She’s not that bad.”
“Are you kidding me?” he turned his blue eyed gaze to me. “She keeps asking me about cake and food and music. And then she always starts crying!”
“Caeden,” I scolded. “This is an emotional time for her. Her oldest son is getting married.” I rubbed his back.
“Ugh, I know,” he rubbed his eyes. “Your mom seems a lot calmer about all of this.”
I shrugged. “She’s okay right now, but I think when it’s the day of the wedding and she sees me in the dress, the altar, the whole shebang… I think it’ll hit her then.”
“We better make sure they stock up on tissues,” he chuckled.
“Maybe we can make Bryce carry a tray of tissues around,” I laughed at the image my mind had conjured up.
Caeden rubbed at the stubble on his jaw. “Ugh, enough wedding talk,” he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me down into the sand.

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