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pasta, the Miami beaches as our backdrop on the high level of this complex. This place wouldn’t be home forever but it was for now. We had each other here in our nice little space and that made it pretty all right for the time being.
    Roxie wanted to watch TV after dinner, so we did. I made her put her feet up in my lap, then quickly went into massaging them, each little toe one by one. She had of course protested as she said I should be the one with the hurting feet as I actually worked today. I didn’t consider my job work, and though it was tiring, I enjoyed it. I believed the real work was with her on this wedding stuff, which she quickly started in on once I poked her about it.
    “I really think he’s the one, babe,” she said referring to this particular wedding planner she didn’t have a bad thing to say about. “He really listened to me and made me feel comfortable about everything. There’s so much to do, but I think Troy really has my vision at heart, our best interest.”
    Her face lit up with every word she said about this guy, and though I sat calmly, contently, in the back of my mind I kept saying: thank the fucking God. She’d been so stressed before when she texted me during my lunch. I moved my hand to her instep, massaging there. “That’s great,” I told her. I gave a short laugh. “You really scared me before. I thought I was going to have to come down there and show someone the business. These people are supposed to make things easier for you not intimidate you.”
    Popping her hand over her mouth, she cringed, her fingers falling from her lips. “I’m so sorry. I meant to text you and let you know everything was okay.”
    Dropping her foot, I patted her calf. “It’s fine and as long as you got what you need I’m good.”
    She chewed her lip, pushing her hair behind her ear. “I think so. Can we book him? I didn’t want to do anything until I asked you first.”
    She really didn’t have to do that but I appreciated her thinking about me. I tapped her leg. “I do want to meet this guy, but if he’s got your seal of approval it should be fine.”
    Squealing, she launched herself into my arms. I’d do anything to make this woman happy. Anything. But what really rocked was I knew she cared about me just the same, and that was pretty freakin’ awesome.
     

 
     

    Griffin left for an away game in Toronto the following morning, and as I finally had a task of my own, planning this wedding of ours, I opted to stay home. He didn’t say it but this pleased him greatly. He woke me up before he left, kissing me on the cheek that he’d be back in two days, such as the life of a basketball player and his future wife.
    I had every right to feel overwhelmed; being by myself in Miami and all these event plans, but Griffin often traveled for extended time for his sport and Troy assured me I would have to worry about very little. That was his job. My real worrying came the first day the pair of us would take the town and jump into these wedding plans, but that meeting had nothing to do with my anxiety.
    “Ya’ll thinking about staying there then?” Griffin’s Grandma Rose (a.k.a. Gram to all her grandkids) asked me over the phone. “For the wedding?”
    So was the reason for my anxiety as I’d called her. Slamming my hip against my Mini Cooper, I closed the door I just came out of. I gazed down the busy, metropolitan strip looking for the address Troy texted me to meet him at for our first official consultation as wedding planner and bride.
    2551…
    2557…
    I paused my search for the right building focusing on my call to Gram for a second. “Is that okay?” I asked her. The clear worry in my voice was evident. In my most recent talk with her about the wedding, it seemed she wanted to have the gathering back in Texas. I’d called her before even meeting Troy that day, and though she wouldn’t say it, I could just tell, the excitement in her voice as she talked about cakes and