yea! chapter 10 :)

I watched as the manicurist painted my toes nails a deep red.

It looked so grown up. So professional. So Yeah, I'm getting married, and I have sex with my totally hot fiance, and I'm reading the February/March issue of Cosmo.

I turned back to my Cosmo and flipped the page.

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When I came home Jesse was sitting at the kitchen table with bills all around him.

"Come here," he said. No There's my beautiful querida. No Come give me a big kiss for working a twelve hour shift.

Just Come here.

I gulped and sat my purse in the armchair, then slowly made my way to the kitchen table.

"Sit," he said, nodding to the chair beside him. I did.

He pushed a bank statement under my nose. I gasped at how much we were overdrawn.

"Do you realize," Jesse started in a growl, then his voice rose. "Do you realize what this does? To our money? To our credit? To everything?"

"Um," I started, but couldn't finish. Jesse was scaring me.

He lowered his voice to say, "Go get our debit card."

"But Jesse," I pleaded.

"The debit card and the Visa. Now! Go get it!"

I rose from my seat with all the dignity I could muster and brought him back my cards.

He didn't cut then up, to my relief, only stuck them in his pocket.

"You can't use them anymore, unless it's an emergency, understand?"

I nodded. He pushed another piece of paper under my nose.

"Meet our budget," he said.

It was awful to look at . . . we we're living on five hundred dollars a week!

"But Jesse-"

"This is it," he said. "Until you get a job when you finish school. Then things will be a lot less tight."

I looked at the paper again as my spring wardrobe flew out the window.

"Now," he said, putting all the bills in a pile. "the second thing. With all this excessive spending we can't go to Barbados."

"But Jesse!"

"No buts," he said.

I sighed and got out of my chair, starting for the bathroom. Jesse grabbed my waist before I could walk away.

"I'm sorry, Susannah," he said, pulling me into his lap. "But you can't just spend money blindly. We are just starting out."

I mumbled something about it not being fair, and he laughed and kissed the top of my head.

"I like you nails," he said, nodding to my toes. "The color is very pretty."

"But Jesse!" I said, turning into his chest. "Five hundred a week?"

"Just until you graduate - which is what, in April, right? Didn't you say you thought you could finish in April?"

"I think," I mumbled. He hugged me tighter.

"You'll make it. Now, tell me where we should go eat dinner tonight."

It was Saturday. "You mean there's money in the budget for date night?"

He smiled. "Of course there is. I planed it out all very carefully."

"Let's go eat Japanese!"

He looked at me for a second, then sighed. "Fine. But no martinis or whatever you like to get. They're too expensive."

I sighed. I think this budget might be the end of me.

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We went to Shang - the local Japanese restaurant - for dinner. Jesse made us split a plate and made me get a Coke.

I know. A Coke.

He asked me when we got home if I wanted to take a bath.

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye in the bathroom mirror. He had already turned the faucet on.

I considered my anger towards him at the moment. I also considered the way his muscles flexed when he took off his shirt.

Okay. So I was a sucker for meat. So sue me.

I sat behind Jesse in the tub so that he could lean against me. I figured he needed it after working a twelve hour shift.

"I visited with Father Dominic on my lunch break today," Jesse said when I started to rub his shoulders. He rested his head against my chest.

"And he misses me terribly?"

"He did say you hardly come visit anymore."

I shrugged. "I'm a busy girl."

Jesse looked up at me, and I sent him a smile back.

"But he said he wanted to see us tomorrow. He needs to talk with us about something."

Hmm. Sounded peculiar . . .

"About what?"

It was Jesse's turn to shrug. "The wedding, I suppose."

The phone rang in the other room; Jesse sighed.

"Ignore it," I told him. "So how was working double-overtime?"

"So much fun, querida. I really hope you can give me up for a few hours and decide not work in the Emergency Room."

"You know, I read in Cosmo that couples that work together have lower divorce rates?"

"You know, Susannah, that everything you read in Cosmo isn't true?"

"Jesse," I whispered, appalled. "Take that back."

He smiled up at me. "You think it is the Bible or something."

"I guess you don't want to know the position of the month, then," I said, pushing him off of me.

He turned so he was over me. "What do you mean, position of the month?"

I laughed. "That's what I thought, Mr. de Silva."

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The next morning I woke up to Jesse's gentle kisses on my neck. I sighed and closed my eyes again. This was the life.

"Three months until the wedding," I told him.

He stopped kissing. "Three months? Already?"

I smiled at him and nodded. "I'm going to pick out a wedding cake with my mom after class tomorrow. You should come. It can be a family affair."

He looked pained. "I'm working another double tomorrow."

"Jesse! Why?"

He shrugged and kissed my neck again. "Resident hours. What can I say?"

I groaned. "But why can't you tell them you have to go eat cake?"

"Because, Susannah," he whispered against my neck, "I'm a resident. I don't make my hours. The doctors in charge of me do."

"Why? So they can go play golf?"

"Tennis, actually," he said, laying on top of me and kissing my lips.

I groaned again.

"Maybe I can get a long break," Jesse offered. "Then I can come and 'eat cake', then go back to work. Fair enough?"

"I guess," I mumbled. He kissed me again and rolled out of bed.

It was wonderful to see him make his way to the bathroom - completely naked.

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Father Dom was in his new "church office" - as he called it.

"I like the new place," I said after he invited us in.

"Thank you," he said. He went and took a seat in his new office chair. "Now I can finally keep my school affairs separate from my church affairs."

"I'm assuming where here on a church affair?" I asked.

"Well, it's about the wedding." He readjusted his glasses. "Now, Susannah, I want you to know that I didn't come up with this idea."

He looked between me and Jesse for a while, not saying anything.

"Spit it out, Father D!" I said.

He sighed. "Well, we have a new misnister of marriage, and he feel that all of the couples getting married in or by this church should . . . take pre-marriage classes."

"WHAT?" I yelled, outraged. "Jesse and I have been together for EIGHT YEARS, Father Dom! I think we are the least qualified!"

"I'm sorry, Susannah, I didn't make the rule," Father D. said calmly.

"But - come on! We're like family! Can't you do something?"

He sighed. "No one can surpass the rules, dear. Even you."

"But MARRIAGE CLASSES?"

Father Dom shot Jesse a look, and he leaned forward to grab my arm. "Querida," he whispered. "Let's just take the classes, alright? What harm can they be?"

"But we don't need marriage classes, Jesse."

He got a look like AH, I get it now. "Susannah, this isn't counseling."

"Right," Father D. said. "This is just a six-week course on marriage, Susannah. It isn't something for couples with problems."

I played with my hands. Jesse rubbed my arm. "We'll go. When do they start?"

"They are every Thursday night at seven. At the Carmel Baptist Church."

"But Father Dom," I whispered. "They're baptists."

"Susannah," he and Jesse both said, exasperated.

I rolled my eyes. "Lighten up, guys. I'm just kidding."

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My classes ended at three-thrity on Monday. I went to my parents house after.

I found my mom standing at the sliding doors to the back yard. I went to stand beside her.

Andy was outside on the deck, watching about ten huge men pour concert all around the pool.

"They said it will be dry by tomorrow, and we can lay the tile Wednesday," my mom said of their new deck. "I'm planning a little pool party Saturday. You and Jesse should come."

My mind rushed. I had to come up with an excuse. Something . . . something . . .

Nothing.

"Yeah," I said. "Maybe."

This made my mom happy, and me feel pretty guilty.

"Ready to go?" I asked.

My mom was so excited about the cake. We were going to a new bakery that specialized in wedding cakes. I read about it in Northern California Brides.

Shut up, okay?

"So where have you registered?" my mom asked.

"Oh, um, Sears and Pier One and Saks Fifth Avenue--"

"Suze," my mom said, looking over at me from the passenger seat. "Saks is in New York."

"Actually, there is one in San Francisco." I only know this because when I visited Jesse when he was in college I would go and stand in front of it for hours and stare at all the Coach and Prada and Chanel . . .

"Suze, maybe you should register at more . . . well, less expensive places. Like Walmart."

"Walmart?" I breathed. "What would I register for? Toothpaste?"

"Susannah Simon," I mom said. It kind of registered that in a few months she couldn't call me that. Unless she wanted to say Susannah de Silva. "There are plenty of things - expensive, nice things - in Walmart. You are acting so spoiled!"

I sighed and stared at the red light we were at. "Mom. This is my wedding."

"What are you saying?" my mom asked. "That I'm controlling your wedding?"

"No, Mom. I didn't mean it like that." I pulled into a parking spot by the bakery. "Look. Jesse's here," I said with some relief.

Jesse was leaning against his Beamer, his scrubs gleaming in the sunlight.

Okay. So his scrubs weren't gleaming. But he just looked so hot.

I jumped out of the car (as soon as it was in park) and went to kiss his cheek.

"Ready?" I asked him.

"Very," he whispered. Then he reached around and pinched my butt before my mom came around the car.

WOW.

The lady in the bakery (her name was Claire) was very happy to see us.

"I've been getting so busy!" she said. "I guess every one is getting married this year, huh?"

Yeah, I thought, thinking of a certain family member.

Claire went behind the counter and brought us a huge book of cakes.

"I can make anything you see in here," she said with a smile. The phone rang in the background and she excused herself.

I flipped though the pages quickly. To cutesy, to small, to green.

"Susie," my mom said, putting her hand on the book to stop me. "Slow down."

I sighed and went though more slowly. Too spring, too fall, too old-people.

"Wait," Jesse said. "You missed a page."

I flipped back to the page I missed . . .

. . . and there it was. My wedding cake.

"Jesse," I whispered. "I want that one!"

My mom leaned in to get a closer look.

"It's very big, Suze. How many guests did you say?"

"Like thirty or something. But Mom, look at it."

She looked all right. Then she said, "Keep looking."

"Mom," I graveled.

I felt Jesse's hand on my back. "If that's what Susannah wants, though . . . " he said to my mom.

We both looked at Jesse. He had never - ever - stuck up for me when it came to my mom.

My mom looked at me, then at Jesse, then back at me. "Well," she finally said. "It is your day. Your wedding."

I smiled and, behind my back, squeezed Jesse's hand.

Claire hurried back after she finished her phone call. She was ecstatic over my choice.

"This," she told me, "will be so beautiful. Why don't you go over there-" she pointed to the wall to the left, where a shelf stood "- and pick out your topper? I'll go ahead and ring this up."

My mom started asking her questions about the cake, and I grabbed Jesse's hand and pulled him over to the shelf.

There where several toppers to choose from: the classic bride and groom, each with a different combination of hair colors, as well as a bride and bride and a groom and groom. Jesse muttered something under his breath about this, but I ignored him.

"Here we are," I said, pulling the dark haired, Caucasian couple from the mix. Only Jesse wasn't Caucasian. Oh well.

I held the couple up to my face. The bride was so skinny!

Jesse looked too. "He's too short."

I laughed. "We'll just tell her to make the cake taller on that side."

"He's also too pale," he said, and reached in the basket to pull out another topper. He came back with a black/white couple.

"Don't be ridiculous," I said.

"But he looks nothing like me." Jesse held the little (white) couple up to his face. "See?"

I sighed and took it from him. "I'll just find one on the Internet, okay?"

"Okay," he said with a smile, then looked at the clock behind us. "I have to go, Susannah. I'll see you tonight."

"When will you be home?" I asked in a pleading voice.

Jesse shrugged. "No later than ten." He leaned down and kissed me. "Don't wait up, querida."

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Well, I did wait up. I wasn't tired anyways.

Jesse was home at ten sharp, his hair wet from the rain and five o'clock shadow on his cheeks and chin.

"Is it raining that hard?" I asked. Jesse nodded and came to lay down by me on the couch. He put his head in my lap.

"So," I said, combing his wet hair with my fingers. "I picked out invitations today. And a china pattern."

"Wonderful," he mumbled, and pushed his face into my stomach and kissed me. Butterflies erupted.

I wondered if he knew he could do that? Just turn me on by putting his lips on my stomach.

"Also," I said, trying and failing to control my speeding heart. "I talked to my grandmother. She wants us to stay with her when we come, which is really a good thing, since we would save some money not having to stay at a hotel."

"Wonderful," Jesse mumbled again.

I pushed his head out of my lap and went to lay on top of him.

"Are you tired?" I asked.

He opened his eyes and smiled. "Not really."

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Jesse reached over me in bed later that night and got a piece of paper off the nightstand. He turned on the lamp beside him.

"I think you will approve," he said, and gave me the paper.

It was a picture of a bedroom - with a king sized bed, flowers, a porch overlooking a beach, and a Jacuzzi tub.

"What is this?" I asked.

"This is where we are staying for our honeymoon."

I smiled at him. "Really?" I squeaked, and hugged him. "But where is it?"

He smiled. "It's a surprise, querida. For me to know and you to find out." He gave me one more kiss and turned off his lamp.

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r&r please. . .