The cold air on my legs made me realize that we were standing in the doorway and I backed up, consciously closing my robe. It was cold out this morning and Scott seemed to have been feeling the cold as feel as he hugged himself from the unrelenting wind.

"Well, honey. Can I come in or should I stay out here until someone else comes home?" He questioned. I smiled, pulling him in the door and shutting it tightly from the wind.

"Scott, what are you doing here?" I asked surprised.

"Well, your wedding announcement has already hit the news stands." He said, holding up the latest edition of the Enquirer. I scoffed, leading him into the living room.

"Well, I figured once the invitations were send out that they would start printing on it." I sighed, flopping down on the couch; Scott followed me in and sat next to me.

"Hey, this article says you're about 135 lbs...have you gained weight?" He asked as I grabbed the article out of his hands.

"Well, it also says that Fulton is a professional hockey coach."

"Is he really?" Scott asked suddenly entertained.

"No, he coaches pee-wee hockey. You know this." I looked up at him. He looked lost for a moment and then smiled,

"Ah. Alas my memory is not what it used to be, but I do remember meeting him in my former existence."

"Is that what we're calling it now? Before you came out?" I questioned with a smile.

"Yes, it was a re-birth for me to finally be able to admit I'm gay instead of hiding behind you...which I have you to thank for. Thank You."

"Well, you're welcome, I think we're both happier now anyway."

"True, true." He dropped the paper on the table and stood, "You must have a kitchen around here. I'm starving." He said leaving the room, a small bounce in his step. I stood, stretching a little before I followed,

"I can make you something."

"You cook now?" He questioned,

"Well, yes but…"

"Never mind, I remember your cooking. I'll do it myself." He said digging in the refrigerator. The front door slammed shut and Portman came bounding into the kitchen, looking depressed.

"Everything okay?" I asked, sitting next to him.

"I guess...there was a cameraman outside in the bushes. I took care of it." He said softly before sighing and looking up. Scott was still digging in the refrigerator; his butt in the air and Portman cocked his head to look at the sight.

"Fulton?" He asked curiously. Scott stood up fast with a few things in his arms and smiled,

"No, but thank you for asking." He laughed. Portman looked at me,

"Portman you remember Scott don't you?" I asked. He looked at him for a second and then nodded,

"Madison's brother." He almost whispered. "I got stuff to do." He said, before leaving the room fast. Scott watched him go,

"Well, my sister's taste has improved. He's been writing her letters everyday since the day she got home." He whispered to me over the counter.

"So that's what he's been doing."

"Yes, begging for her to come back. Ah, I almost want to come crawling home to him myself by his letters." Scott laughed. I smiled a little.

"So tell me everything, what are your colors?" He started with a smile on his face. I shook my head. Who would have thought that I would be sitting my mine and Fulton's house discussing my wedding with my ex-fiancé?

"My colors are red and white."

"Oh, how lovely...I have to admit, those blues we had for our wedding were completely outlandish."

"Yeah...but it's been like one nightmare after another with this wedding. Our wedding was simple and right to the point." I sighed leaning on my hand,

"It's can't be that bad. Besides, we had my Mother, the dear old woman, running everything and making sure no one messed anything up."

"Trust me it can be that bad. I swear that wedding planner is screwing everything up on purpose and on top of that, Eve hates me. She's promised that this wedding will never happen." I sighed, resting my head on my palm. He patted my head reassuringly,

"Well, I'm here now and I'm going to fix everything for you, starting with that poor boy upstairs." I smiled a little as he patted my cheek and stood, now, where's the TV, I have to catch Oprah." He said swaying out of the kitchen and back to the living room with a box of cookies. I stood and looked around, grabbing the milk from the fridge and two glasses before joining him.

The front door slammed that afternoon as Fulton came stomping into the house later that night. He entered the kitchen and put down his tool belt, glancing to the figure behind the counter. It definitely wasn't Tammy, he reasoned, looking at the frilly apron that was usually wrapped around her waist. The man behind the counter had on a hair net, dress slacks with a pink dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and was playing Whitney Houston on the kitchen CD player. Scott realized he was there and turned from the stove to smiled at him,

"Welcome home, honey." He joked as Fulton took a step back.

"Where's my girlfriend?" He asked suddenly confused. Scott laughed, stirring the pot of stew.

"She's upstairs having a bath. Who knew planning a wedding could be so stressful? Ours wasn't this stressful the first time. So I told her I'd cook dinner and she could relax." Fulton nodded backing out of the room,

"That's nice of you...I'm just going to go check on her." He said sprinting from the room.

The floorboards creaked as someone came up the stairs towards the bathroom. I hoped it wasn't Portman and that he knew to use the bathroom downstairs. The board outside the door creaked and I sat up straighter in the tub to reach for my towel if he was coming in.

"Who is it?" I questioned my eyes scanning the door for a sign of who it might be.

"Tammy, can I come in?" Fulton's voice was on the other side of the door. I smiled to myself, settling back in the tub,

"Yeah, when did you get home?" I asked, the door opening to reveal my fiancé. He looked tired from work and sat down on the sink's edge.

"I just got home. Mind telling me why there's a very gay man cooking dinner downstairs? I had a feeling he was checking me out." Fulton said crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'm sorry, did he ask you out?" I joked, playing with the bubbles in the tub.

"Tammy, you didn't tell me he was coming in."

"I didn't know. He just showed up this morning, have you seen the articles they're printing about us?" I asked, holding up the paper that Scott had brought earlier. Fulton took it and studied the cover,

"Why do they care? I'm no one special."

"Yes, but I am." The silence was thick for a moment as Fulton contemplated my words. I looked down,

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it the way it came out." I said realizing how selfish the statement sounded.

"No, It's true. They care because you're famous."

"But you were too."

"That was how many years ago? The last time I played hockey was high school." The room was silent again, neither one knowing what to say. We stared in opposite directions for what felt like forever. He finally sighed and sunk to his knees next to the tub, taking my hand in his.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to start a fight. It was just crazy at work and then finding Scott in the kitchen cooking...I was really hoping for another night with just the two of us."

"I'm sorry too...I just thought we could have a nice dinner and everyone could relax."

"Believe me, if it meant I had you all to myself, I'd eat your burnt pot roast every night of the week." I smiled softly,

"You're looking at 50 years of that ahead of you. Are you sure you want to start now?" He laughed softly, bringing my lips to his. I melted to him before a loud bang rang out outside the window and I jumped, pushing Fulton back,

"What was that?" I asked, quickly grabbing my robe and hurrying out of the tub to the window.

"And don't come back!" Portman's voice rang out as I slid the window open, letting in the cold November air. Fulton started laughing; I turned back to him,

"What is going on around here?"

"Nothing really, Portman's just promoted himself to personal security of the house. He was standing at the gate when I drove in with a paint gun." I laughed a little,

"Well, I guess we'll have to talk about getting something done about those obnoxious news reporters. Portman caught one in the bushes out front this morning." I turned around to him and his face softened,

"Yeah, I guess we will. Look, I really am sorry about before." I put my finger to his lips.

"It's already forgotten. Now shoo, I have to get dressed." He smiled a little,

"Well, I am going to be your husband in three weeks..." He said pulling me to him.

"You're cute but you're not that cute." I said as he started to kiss my cheek and then my neck. "Fulton, there's a crazy idiot with a paint gun, who just happens to be your best friend and a gay chef, who happens to be my ex downstairs. I think we should continue this later." He nodded kissing me on the cheek and heading from the room as another bang was let off.

"Portman, cut it out!" I yelled out the window.

"He was going to take a picture of me!" He yelled back, pulling the bandana from his chin to reveal his mouth. I shook my head, closing the window and beginning to prepare for dinner.

I don't think the scene could have been weirder. I sat closest to the window and had Fulton on my right side and Scott on my left. They were actually making stupid Tammy jokes.

"Yes, but we must forgive her...she is blonde anyway." Scott joked as I glanced at Portman who had picked at his meatloaf before perking up to the sound of someone outside.

"Portman." I warned as he reached for his paint gun. He scowled for a moment before returning to picking at his dinner.

"So when is this wedding since I didn't get an invitation?" Scott said, acting a little hurt.

"November 20th." I sighed, not looking at him.

"Oh my God, that's like 2 and half weeks..."

"I know." I groaned, suddenly not feeling hungry either.

"Well, do you need anything? A bridal shower?"

"A dress." I joked but in all reality, I wasn't joking. Scott gasped a little,

"Tammy, you haven't gotten a dress yet?"

"It's just this wedding planner. She had the most awful selection yesterday. I seriously wanted to scream, they kept getting worse. She really did do great on the bridesmaid dresses, even though Madison wasn't there to complain about the ruffles at the bottom." At this point Portman got up, taking his paint gun and left the room.

"And that's another thing, my Maid of Honor and the Best Man aren't speaking and she's run off to California for some unknown reason to me and I don't know when she plans on coming back." Then I broke out into tears, Fulton and Scott both trying to console me.

"I'm sure she didn't mean to put this much stress on you, she just has her own thing going on right now." Scott assured me, "I'll call her tonight and tell her to get her big butt back here." He insisted. I laughed a little,

"That's sweet of you but that's not the only thing that needs to be solved." I asked, drying my eyes with my cloth napkin.

"That's it I'm going to take care of this problem right now!" Scott said getting up and marching from the room. I had no idea what he meant but that he was probably following Portman. Fulton and I stared after him for a few moments before I giggled a little,

"How could you have not known he was gay?" Fulton asked with a smile on his face.

"The hints were subtle compared to now."

"Look, I didn't realize how much stress this wedding was putting on you and you've been doing it alone without your Mother, without Madison and most of all without me...Tammy, let me help you." Fulton said. I looked up at him,

"I always thought my Mother would be there when I planned my wedding. She was there the first time, even though it was right after Tommy passed but she was still there, helping me with everything. I just feel so alone lately, like everyone doesn't really want to wedding to happen." I tears were forming in my eyes again. Fulton rested his hand on my cheek and brushed away the stray tear from it.

"Tammy, I want this wedding to happen, you've got me. You're not alone in this." He reassured me. "Why don't we go do something tonight...have you already picked out the flowers?" He asked. I smiled a little,

"Not yet but what's more fitting than red roses?" I asked with smile of all the cherished memories of our life together so far.

"You've got a point...so how about your dress?"

"You can't see me in my dress before the wedding. It's bad luck and we don't need anymore of that working against us." He laughed too,

"So what can I do?" He asked hopeful.

"You can help me do the seating arrangement that I've been putting off all week."

"Deal." He agreed.

"I'll just go upstairs and get the list and stuff." I said sliding out of my seat and heading out of the kitchen. I was almost to the stairs when I heard a faint sound coming from the living room. Peeking around the corner I was surprised to see Portman crying like a baby and Scott consoling him,

"It's alright, you let it all out. Madison's a witch for leaving you here all alone."

"Hey, don't talk about her like that." Portman sniped, continuing to let all his emotions out.

"There, there. How about I fly you out to California on my personal jet and you can take a week to work things out with Madison? You know, a little relaxation and then you can come back for the wedding?" He asked hopeful. Portman shook his head silently,

"That'd be great. I really just need to sit down with her and tell her how much I really love her." He admitted.

"Well, good, I'll call now and get it ready, you just go pack." Scott said ushering him out of the room. I quickly moved behind the stairs so Portman wouldn't see me listening in. Scott came out a moment later and closed his cell phone.

"One problem down." He said to me heading for the kitchen.

"10 million more to go" I answered back, heading up the stairs.