Eliza

"Cake?" Tenille asks.

"Check," I nod. Last month, James and I attended a cake-tasting appointment. We went through about thirty flavours and by the end of the day, I felt as though I'd gained twenty pounds. I also had to fight a nasty upset stomach on the way home. There's something about sweets that just aggravates my sensitive stomach. "We decided on red velvet with cream cheese frosting."

Tenille shoots me a glance over her drink. "You hate cream cheese."

"So, what?" I shrug. "I chose the flowers and colour schemes. James can have the cake. Besides, I'm not going to be eating any cake. You know how I am with sweets."

"O-kay," she drawls, glancing down at her notebook. She reviews the checklist we composed yesterday. "DJ?"

"Booked and paid."

This is exactly how we spend the next twenty minutes. Meticulously, we go through each and every aspect of my wedding. And the longer we spend doing this, the more I begin to realize just how much I love Tenille. She's got a natural affinity for organizing parties and always makes sure things are top-notch. She's also not afraid to tell me if something doesn't seem right or if I'm making a bad decision. Which doesn't surprise me. Tenille and I have been friends for years; we're like sisters. Because of that, I can also tell when something is bothering her. She's been very fidgety all afternoon and refuses to look me in the eye for more than two seconds. Without Tenille having a hand in my wedding everything would have been a complete disaster, but I don't like that she's keeping something from me.

I set my fork down and stare up at her. I want to keep eating my food because I'm so freaking hungry after all of this review stuff we've been doing, but Tenille rarely lets things bother her. Something important is on her mind. "Tenille. You have something to say, so just say it, okay?"

She sighs and begins pushing around the contents of her ahi tuna poke bowl. The sight of raw fish makes me want to throw up my clubhouse sandwich. I look away. "There are a couple of things on my mind, Eliza. Your mom and dad are arriving later and I know how much you hate the drama they bring with them. How are you feeling about that? Last time they were in the same room together, it rattled you so much that you smashed a glass against the wall."

My cheeks burn as I look down at my half-eaten sandwich. I can remember that night all too well. It had been the night I'd introduced James to my parents. It was supposed to be two separate dinners, but my mom mixed up the date and arrived at the restaurant the night we were supposed to meet up with my dad. James, being unaware of the toxicity of them being in the same room, suggested that we all have dinner together. Things didn't go very well that night. As per usual, my parents bent the conversation so it was about them instead of keeping it light and neutral. They argued and argued until I snapped, picking up my glass and throwing it against the wall of the restaurant. I stormed out after that and left directly for Tenille's house. And by the time James came to pick me up that night, I was passed out on the couch and reeked of tequila.

I'm not looking forward to having my parents here for the wedding, but it has to happen – there's no other choice. James and I can't host two weddings. "I don't know," I sigh. "I guess I'll just deal with it when the time comes." I glance up at Tenille. "I'll keep my cool, I promise. And if I can't, I'll leave before I do anything rash. James knows how much it stresses me out, so I'm sure he'll have my back."

"Or he'll just spend his time trying to please them," she says.

I press my lips into a firm line and ignore her comment. James does have a habit of doing just that, but I think we'll be united this time around – it is our wedding, after all. "Other than that," I continue, "I'm a little concerned about the whole thing. I love my parents, but you know how they are – they drive me nuts. Mom is indifferent to the world and Dad always makes himself look like the victim. I bet you five bucks they're going to get into an argument within the first half-hour over something ridiculous. Up until the wedding happens, they're going to make our lives a living hell."

I never got the full details of my parents' divorce until a few years ago. It was the night before I was leaving for university in Vancouver and my mom had made some comment about me potentially finding someone to experience long-lasting love with. Of course, the comment led to Dad making a comment about how their relationship fell apart. Which, inevitably, led to both of them losing their goddamned minds and ruining the beautiful dinner I had made. All I'd wanted was a civilized dinner before I left. They couldn't even give me that. I did, however, learn that my mom was a workaholic who never really put aside time for Dad. And whenever he would bring up that specific issue, she would wave him off and act indifferent. It's what led to dad saying he wanted a divorce so he could find a woman that would actually give him the attention he deserved.

And, in the midst of it all, my parents expected me to choose sides and support them without a second thought. Their actions put me directly in the middle and made me vulnerable to the constant dysfunctional crossfire. I managed to stay neutral through everything, though. Which I give myself a lot of credit for. Ever since they announced the divorce, they've been doing this to me. I'm disgusted by my parents and I have little respect for either of them. That being said, they are still my parents. They're the people who raised me, fed me, and gave me a place to stay. I still love them – even if I have little respect.

"Are you sure you want them to stay at the house?" Tenille asks. "Because I have connections – I could get them a hotel for a reasonable price."

I shake my head. "That would only add to the drama. It's best they stay in the same house as me, where I can watch them closely. And as much as I hate to admit it, having Leon here might help. He was always good at disabling the tension."

"That is true," Tenille replies. "Speaking of Leon, he's my second concern. Have you talked to him?"

I take another bite of my sandwich to buy myself time. Yes, I have talked to Leon. Several times, actually. But I know that's not what Tenille means. And because I don't want to answer that question, I respond with another question. "Why did you invite him? I never wanted him to come here, Ten."

Tenille puts down her fork and sighs. "I thought it would be good for the two of you to find some closure. I didn't think there would be so much tension between the two of you..." she trails off and glances up at me through her lashes. "You're not the only one who lost him, Eliza. I was worried about Leon, too."

I stare at Tenille. There's something off about all this. If she didn't hear anything from Leon, then how did she get his address in Saanich? I frown, my heart ready to break all over again. "How did you get his address?" I whisper. "If you hadn't heard from him, if you were worried about him, then how did you send him that invitation?"

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes begin to brim with tears. "I messaged him on Instagram. I lied to him and said I had found some of his things when I was doing some spring cleaning. That was why I wanted his address."

I push my chair back and stand up, a tear slipping down my cheek. It's not like Leon and Tenille stayed in contact and talked daily, but they contacted each other. After all those messages I sent to Leon, after all the times I called him and wondered where the hell he was...I choke on a sob. She knew where he was living. He talked to Tenille. After everything we'd been through together.

"Eliza!" Tenille pleads. "Please don't be mad at me. And don't be mad at Leon – he's been through a lot."

"So, what?" I snap. "You've been talking to him? For how long, Tenille?"

She stands up, forgetting about the notebook and her food. "I swear, Eliza, I only messaged Leon that one time on Instagram. But...But when he got here, we had a conversation and I'm telling you that you need to let him talk. He's been through so much. I know he hurt you. I know you're mad at him. His reason for lying to you isn't valid, but his heart was in the right place. You have to give him a chance."

"Right!" I yell, throwing my hands up in the air. People in the surrounding seats glance in my direction. I ignore them. "Because lying to a person you love is perfectly acceptable in today's society!" I grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder. I don't want to have this conversation with Tenille anymore. A sob escapes my mouth. "Because leaving them behind and never talking to them again, only to show up two years later, is fucking normal."

I spin around on my heel and trudge away with Tenille shouting after me. I refuse to turn around, though. I refuse to let her see the tears that are pooling in my eyes. She talked to Leon and she never told me. Maybe I'm overreacting, but when it comes to Leon, even a single message is a big deal. He never took the time to reply to me. He didn't even acknowledge me.

I push my way out of the restaurant and into the fresh air, expecting to be greeted by the sun and a wave of heat. But I'm not. When I glance up at the sky, I realize that the weather is now overcast and there's a thin mist on the mountains in the distance. The air feels charged, too, as if a thunderstorm is brewing on the horizon in the midst of the ominous clouds.

I sigh and remove my keys from my pocket. I'm not going to make Tenille walk home in this weather. Me, on the other hand? I need some time to clear my head before I'm greeted by my selfish parents.

Wiping my tears away, I head over to my truck and hide the keys in the glove compartment. Tenille knows the code to get into my vehicle, so I'm sure she'll put the pieces together when she realizes that I'm gone. But, just to be sure, I send her off a quick text message, saying I'm okay and that I'm walking home.

In the distance, I hear the low rumble of thunder.

If this isn't foreshadowing for what's to come, then I don't know what is.

* * *

When I arrive home, the clouds look like they're ready to burst. My walk was a good one – I took the trail from Lost Lake and then connected to the one that leads to Tenille's house. It was a mix of anger and tears, but I eventually managed to calm myself down.

However, as soon as I step through the door and see my mom sitting in the living room, all of those deep breathing exercises I did while walking home fade to the wayside and are replaced with nothing but resentment and anxiety. I don't want to deal with my mom right now. Or my dad, for that matter.

"Eliza, honey," Mom says. She rushes up to me, her platinum-blonde hair shining beneath the dim lighting. As usual, she's got her fake nails and bright red lipstick on. I push past the resentment and anxiety, welcoming her with open arms as she pulls me into a hug.

"Hey, Mom," I reply.

"Honey," she says. She grips my biceps and takes a step back, looking me over. "You're looking awfully skinny."

I glance at Tenille. She's standing behind the counter in the kitchen and making a pitcher of lemonade. Her eyes are full of nothing but sympathy and support, but then I remember how I'm pissed off at her. I turn my attention back to my mom. She's already beginning to trigger me. I want her to call me Eliza. I want her to stop calling me honey.

But, more importantly, I wish Leon's mom were standing in front of me instead. It's a terrible thing to wish, but when my parents neglected me during their divorce, Leon's mom was always there for me. I don't know how many times I stayed over at her house or how many times she cooked me dinner and made me tea. Heck, she would even play video games with me and Leon on the Nintendo GameCube. And, on top of everything else, she was the nicest lady I've ever met. She was even able to put up with the annoyingly apathetic Meghan Caldwell.

"It's good to see you, too, Mom," I say, swallowing my stubborn ego. "Where's Dad?"

She sticks her nose up in the air and snorts with disgust. "Why should I care? That man is fickle."

I take a deep breath. I haven't even seen my dad yet and I'm already ready to snap and release Hurricane Eliza. Can they not put their differences aside for a few minutes and let me be happy? A jolt of pain goes through my heart as old scars begin to rise again. It's been years since either of them cared about my happiness – their own daughter's happiness. I've never been able to comprehend how someone could be so selfish.

"Careful, Mrs. Caldwell. Call Liz 'honey' one more time and she might backhand you."

Mom turns around and squeals like a little girl when she sees Leon standing in the entrance to the living room. Rushing over, she scoops him up in a big hug and kisses him several times on the cheek. I can tell Leon's uncomfortable, but he puts up with it just like he did when we were kids. "Leon!" she says, emphasizing the surprise in her voice. "I wasn't expecting you to be here!"

"Neither was I," he chuckles. "But here I am."

When he says that, Leon shoots a glance at me. It's sympathetic, but there's also a look of understanding in his eyes. It's a look that strikes me in the heart. Leon knows all about my egotistical mother and the games she plays. But the strike in the heart has also brought up something else in my mind. My parents may be overly selfish, but I haven't been any better lately. I've been keeping to myself and not letting Leon talk to me. He came here for a reason, and I still haven't given him that chance.

Our eyes stay locked for several more seconds, and my heart begins to beat frantically. My palms are also becoming clammy. Leon's stare is intense and passionate. It makes me feel vulnerable, as if I'm standing naked in front of him and we're the only ones in the room.

The corner of his mouth tugs upward into a genuine half-smile.

"Now," Mom says, breaking the moment. "Where is James? I need to see my future son-in-law."

It isn't hard to miss the look of hurt on Leon's face as my mom bustles her way into the kitchen.