Four

Four

103 days until the wedding

"So, Jenny, are you saying yes to this dress?"

"I'm saying yes to the dress!"

"No!" I shout as my arm automatically flings into the air in frustration before dropping back down to the couch. "I liked the other one. It held up her boobs more." My comments go unheard not only by the people on the screen, but also by the walls seeing as I'm in the house by myself.

Since I didn't have work today I finally slept in, and when I eventually dragged myself out of bed I vaguely remember my mom kissing me goodbye and my dad saying he was going outside to find his golf clubs. Now that I think about it, though, that was over an hour ago and I should probably go check the shed to make sure he didn't get eaten by a raccoon, or even the lawn mower.

After hearing the sound of a doorbell I hit mute on the remote control as commercials cover the television screen, but I soon find myself slowly sitting up when I hear it again. I sit for a few more seconds unsure if I'm really hearing right, but when incessant pounding then ensues on the front door, I finally stand up. It must be a miracle. Dad not only found his golf clubs, but he also fixed the doorbell.

"Coming!" I yell, so he stops knocking, but when I finally begin to scamper my way over to the door my pinky toe ends up connecting with the corner of the coffee table that my mom finally put back in its rightful place in the center of the room.

A strangled sound escapes me as I try to prevent a string of curse words from falling from my lips and I end up just picking up my left foot and hoping the rest of the way to the door.

"Sorry, da—" My mouth immediately closes as my foot falls back down to the floor. I lean my head back now very confused and very frightened seeing as there's a guy in a jumpsuit standing there, holding a live chicken in a cage up to my face. "Uh... Can I help you?"

"Chicken." He shoves the fidgeting animal closer to my head, and I jump back when it abruptly clucks in my face.

"We didn't order a chicken," I say barely keeping the stammer from my voice as he tries to shove the cage through the door frame.

"Chicken." He repeats and I finally try to close the door.

"We didn't buy—"

"Sí, Sí, un pollo."

"Just because you say it in a different language doesn't mean-" The shout dies on my lips when the cage ends up shoved in my hands and this seemingly insane guy runs back to his van that I now see reads Cluck-My-Buck.

I find myself glancing left and right hoping to find a hidden camera, or even a witness to this madness, but instead I'm left alone and completely dumbfounded.

Seeing as I don't have much of an option, I slowly shut the door and search my brain for a place to put this-this thing.  I settle on placing it on the coffee table, and I sit down on the couch across from it. My gaze doesn't stray from the chicken as my mind still processes the fact that it's sitting in the middle of my living room. It continues to fidget and soon meets my gaze. It tilts its head to one side, and I find myself following the movement wondering what actually occurs inside a chicken brain. The chicken then slowly moves its head to the other side, and as I mirror his actions I wonder if it really is a him, or a her, or who knows? In this day in age, it could be a them for all I know. Then, suddenly, the chicken lets out a loud cluck, and that officially pulls me out of my trance and my butt up off the couch. As I make my way to the opposite side of the room I can't help, but wonder if I'm still sleeping and this is all just a dream.

The doorbell rings again and this time I find myself hesitating before I open the door. Please, don't be a another caged animal. I slowly peel back the door, but then seeing a pair of navy blue khaki shorts I let out a sigh of relief, and pull it all the way back. A frown quickly replaces my smile, though, when I lock eyes with the person wearing them.

"What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, cupcake."

I don't even try to hide my bewilderment as it wrinkles up my whole face, and it only makes Nate laugh before he gestures to my legs.

"You have cupcakes on your shorts."

"Oh." I glance down now fully aware that I'm still in my pajamas and my hair is barely being contained by the ponytail I threw it in when I initially woke up.

"So... Are you going to let me in, Avery James?"

My eyes cut back up to him and his striped shirt that resembles the colors of an American flag before I fold my arms across my chest.

"Are you going to answer my question, Nathaniel Graham?"

Another smile graces his lips as he cocks an eyebrow. "Ben and I are supposed to go golfing." When he doesn't automatically explain further, I raise both of my eyebrows because, unlike him, I am incapable of only raising one, and he furrows his. "With your dad."

"Oh." I find myself saying again before finally sliding to the left and opening the door further for him to come in. "I think he's still out back looking for his clubs."

Nate nods as he takes a few steps inside. His gaze wanders around before he flicks his hand out. "What's with the chicken?"

"Don't judge, Cluckie." I immediately defend the creature I was only ridiculing minutes before as I walk back over to the silver cage.

"You named it?" The amusement leaks from Nate's voice.

I choose to ignore it as I place a hand on the chicken's cage. "Yes, we've developed an unbreakable-ah!"

I leap away from the cage when the chicken makes an angry sound and pecks at me all the while hearing Nate's chuckles as I make my way back over to him.

"Okay, so maybe some random old man just dropped off this chicken even though I repeatedly told him that we didn't order a chicken!"

Nate just blinks back at me for a few seconds before another smile tips up his lips. "So an old man gave you a chicken?"

My hands fly into the air, and I let out a constipated sound through clenched teeth in attempt to squelch my frustration.

"Avery!" my mom yells as she stumbles into the house with grocery bags on each arm. "They didn't have the pickles you wanted, so-" She immediately stops yelling when she finally looks up and sees Nate and I standing there. "So I just got the bread and butter ones."

"But I hate the bread and butter—"

"I know," my mom cuts me off before settling on placing all the bags on the floor. She glances back up at me as she takes in a steadying breath before giving me a horrid look. "Why aren't you dressed?"

"I am dressed." Is my lame reply as I send another self conscious look down to my pajamas.

My mom laughs as she hands me a bag of groceries to bring to the kitchen. "No, I mean, Aubrey didn't text you? We're visiting banquet halls today."

"Do I really have to come?" I ask as I follow my mom into the kitchen, and place a bag on the kitchen table.

I quickly hide my surprise when Nate's arm darts out next to mine as he places one down as well.

"I just thought you'd want to..." My mom trails off, but when I give her an unsure face she gives me a pleading look. "Please don't make me go with grandma alone."

A laugh escapes me. "It's only been a few days."

"I know, I know." My mom shakes her head as she opens the cabinet to put pasta boxes away. "But I just can't."

"So I found my golf clubs! They were all the way in the back of the shed." My dad declares as he walks in the kitchen through the sliding glass door with Ben trailing behind him, and I'm momentarily confused because I never even saw Ben walk in.

"Is that where you found those shorts too?" My mom mumbles as she walks over to the fridge

I barely contain my laugh as my gaze flickers to the multi colored plaid patterned shorts, and bright yellow polo my dad deemed quality golfing attire. Then again, he's got better taste than the United States of Nathaniel. I find myself letting out a snort at my own joke before I feel my dad kissing me on the top of the head.

"What dress did the girl pick?" Ben asks as he brushes past me, trailing behind my dad.

It takes me a minute to realize what he's talking about before I shake my head, showing my disapproval on the subject.

"The third one."

Ben dramatically snaps his fingers before sending me a quick wave goodbye.

"Goodbye, Avery James." Nate tosses the statement over his shoulder as he pushes Ben forward to follow my father.

"Goodbye, Nathaniel Graham." I send his back a mock salute before turning back towards my mom. "I'm going to go get ready."

I begin to languidly make my way over to the stairs as my mom rustles with the groceries, and the door closes behind the newly found golf team. As I trail up the first few steps, I hear a cabinet slam before the shuffling of my mom's feet as she goes to grab more groceries from the car.

Then there's a gasp.

"Avery James! Why the hell is there a chicken in the living room?!"

My sock covered feet run the rest of the way up the stairs, and I almost slip as I skirt my way into the bathroom.

****

As I stare out the tinted car window I can't help, but feel déjà vu. As we pass the familiar stretches of highway with the radio on low, and Aubrey adamantly talking on high, it's as if I'm sixteen again traveling on the occasional mall expedition with my mom and older sister.

The only thing that reminds me that I am twenty-two, and that we're traveling on a wedding errand for my older sister, is my grandma Josephine who happens to be sitting beside me in the back seat texting on her cell phone. That is if you consider sending the automatic, recommended emoticons as text messages.

"You know how I've always pictured my wedding as red based with accents of purple? Well, now I'm thinking more of a purple base with accents of red."

As kids wedding shows always prompted Aubrey and I to conjure up future wedding plans, and key ideas to remember when we finally got married. Looking back now, though, part of me wishes we hadn't. Part of me wishes we didn't waste time wishing for the future of what we could have, and just enjoyed what we already did. I'm probably the only one wishing to go back since I don't have a diamond ring, and an amazing fiancé, but that's never really mattered to me. Just because you're single doesn't mean you're "forever alone." I've never been alone and, that thought alone, has always kept me happy. I'd rather be happy and independent rather than settling down to the never ending sameness, and false pretenses of white picket fences.

"Oh, oh"-my sister taps her nail against the passenger side window-"You see that tree?"

My eyes land on the huge willow tree standing slightly taller than all the others lining the road. I can't help, but wonder how it survives, let alone thrives, in its natural independence from all the others.

"When I was younger I was convinced I'd get married in front of that tree. I'd picture myself standing there in all white with weeds and dandelions in my hands."

I watch as Aubrey's shoulders move up and down in a shrug before the radio hums over the silence. I glance back out my window again and seeing that the tree is long gone by now, I turn back around.

"Why don't you?" I declare my thoughts out loud.

My mom clears her throat. "What'd you say, bean?"

"Why don't you get married in front of the tree, Aubrey?"

Aubrey twists in her seat to face me now that it's clear that I'm addressing her, and I even feel the curious eyes of my grandma now burning into the side of my head.

"I guess it would be cool to find a place with a willow tree."

I shake my head. "No, I mean, why not get married in front of that tree if that's what you've always wanted."

"I was five, Avery." My sister gives me a chiding smile, but I give her a genuine one back as I unstick my thighs from the leather seat.

"Yeah, but we could set up a bunch of lawn chairs, bring a lot of flowers-it'll even save money and time because you wouldn't have to book a place." I find myself finally exuding genuine excitement for the wedding for the first time just picturing how unique and beautiful it would be, especially during a sunset.

Aubrey's eyes continue to pierce mine for a few seconds before she turns back in her seat with a laugh. "No one gets married on a highway, Avery."

"Yeah, we're not hillbillies." Grandma Josephine joins in on the laughter.

My eyes shift over to my mom as she weakly shrugs her shoulders. "I guess it would be kind of dangerous."

I slump back down in my seat and slowly exhale through my nose to hide my sigh. My hands find my car keys and I continue to fiddle with them as I settle my attention back out at the nature trying to stand out against the civilization outside my window.