TWELVE DAYS UNTIL WEDDING

Tuesdays are the best days. My mood was amazing and the past few days of weird confusion was over. I was on cloud nine. Furthermore, I get to spend all day cooking since I planned a feast and we apparently are having our parents over tonight. I could not wait.

I heard Vic open the garage door and practically skipped out to him. When I finally got close enough I jumped onto his back, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Whoa, someone's in a good mood today," he chuckled. I smiled at him and nodded quickly. "Why? What's so special about today?" he asked. He then dropped me and looked at me in horror. "Is it your birthday!? Oh, God, please tell me it isn't; I hate missing birthdays."

"No, no, it's not my birthday." I chuckled at his worried face, finding it incredibly endearing. I immediately wanted to slap myself for even thinking those words. "It's my wedding shower," I told him. I emphasized the word wedding in my head. I keep forgetting that I have a fiancé. I'm promised to someone! I can't keep being overly friendly to Vic.

"Wedding shower, hmm," he mumbled. "So the big day must be coming up." He slid onto a stool as I played around with the meat. I was making meat loaf, it was one of Oli's father's favourites. I sprinkled on some spices and made a noise of agreement.

"Are you excited?" he asked, leaning closer.

"More nervous than anything else," I told him. I added some lemon juice concentrate and started kneading the meat to help tenderize it.

"Why?"

"Why what?" I asked, completely forgetting what I had last said.

"Why are you nervous?"

"Oh, well there's a lot that can go wrong. I don't know. I'm nervous that one of us'll get cold feet and call it off."

"Interesting. I thought you were one of those people that are so confident about their relationship." He started mocking my voice as he said, "Nothing could go wrong with us, we're Kellin and Oliver!"

I gasped and stared at him in horror. "I do not sound like that."

"Hard to accept reality, isn't it?" he asked, slipping off his stool and coming over to my side of the mountain. I rolled my eyes and continued to scrunch the meat between my fingers. "I'm sure there are other realities you're running from, too." He was close to me now. He was doing that thing again. He was pulling his tricks and trying to seduce me.

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked as he (literally) walked his fingers up my back. I moved to the side, making his fingers fall off.

"Don't run away from me!" he scolded. "I have no problem with bondage." He did not just hint at what I think he was hinting at. I silently brewed, not allowing him to get a rise out of me. Surprisingly, that was not what he wanted. "Don't be mad. Here, I'll help."

I slapped his bacteria-filled hand away, before it could reach the food.

"Wash them!" I ordered. He rolled his eyes and went to the sink. "And use soap, I don't know where those Mexican hands have been."

"And I don't think you want to," he replies. I barfed in my mouth briefly before moving on.

"Can you put that meat in the dish over there while I heat up this pan?" I asked.

"Definitely," he smiled charmingly. I pretended like it didn't bother me and moved along my merry way. As the oil heated, I pushed Vic aside and sprinkled basil, ginger among other spices and finally, painted the beef with dry mustard. I saw Vic watching my every movement, but chose to ignore him.

I expertly flipped the meat from the dish and onto the pan, letting is sear to hold in all the flavour. I then quickly dumped it back onto the dish and added a pinch of Montreal Steak Spice, tossing it in the oven.

"Do you cook a lot?" Vic asked. I turned to him and my entire body tensed. He was just so attractive. I hated that.

"Yeah. I love it," I replied. I started placing things back in cupboards and moved all the dishes I had used into the dishwasher and some into the sink.

"That's good," he mumbled, "that you found a passion."

I nodded and pictured Oliver in my mind. He always made me feel so talented when it came to cooking. I was just an at-home cook, but he made me feel like a pro. I loved Oliver. I tolerated Vic. I just had to remember that because damn his body was distracting.

Despite what I wanted, this was normal for someone with an upcoming wedding. The cold feet effect. I'm just nervous about the wedding and freaked out about my future. It's making me crazy. It's putting stupid thoughts in my head. I'll get over it.

"What's your passion?" I asked, deciding to make conversation.

"Sex," he smirked. I ignored his comment, not giving him the satisfaction of pushing me around.

"You're probably one of those animal lovers, aren't you?" I asked. I looked at him skeptically and he just looked back. I waited for a response, washing my hands clean of spices amongst other substances as I watched Vic for some kind of reaction.

"I like...many things."

"Yeah, but like is different than passion," I told him. "What do you just feel so giddy doing? What makes your mind just click away happily?"

He looked at me with something I could only explain as admiration. It was the first time I had ever received a look like that. It was like he was actually envious of me or of...it clicked.

"Oh my God," I gasped. "You haven't found it yet! You haven't found your passion!"

He looked uncomfortable and shy. It was like when you see a toddler that's too scared to ask for a cookie.

"Do you want to try cooking?" I asked. He looked at the counter at all the small bottles of spices, molasses and soy. "I could teach you something," I offered.

"Maybe." That was the only answer he gave me. That meant yes. I smiled and tugged on his shirt, pulling him into me in yet another hug. My arms were wrapped tightly around his neck and shoulders as he held me just as close in return.

"It's a date," I said, with a smile in my voice.

__
Oli was late. His parents were here and seated comfortably beside mine as I poured them all their fourth glasses of wine. It was beginning to get awkward.

"I'll call and see what's holding him," I told them. I turned and walked awkwardly down the hall to use the phone in he and my room.

"Hey, baby. What's up?" he answered, on the third ring.

"What's up? Your and my parents are sitting in our kitchen right now and have been for the last hour, yet you're still at work, that right there is what's up."

"Oh...babe I completely forgot. I am so sorry."

"Sorry? Don't be sorry. Just be on your way. Now." My voice was forceful, but that was the only way I could get anything through his thick skull unless it had to do with math. Math he could go on about for hours.

"I'll be there in twenty," he replied hastily.

"Make it ten," I challenged. I disconnected the call, fuming silently at his stupidity. I had reminded him yesterday morning, last night, this morning at breakfast. I even put a God damn note in his lunch. I swear he never misses a meeting, but misses every at-home event.

I left the room, closing the door with a click and trotted back to the kitchen. Our parents were sitting silently and looked more than relieved to see my return.

"Sorry to keep you guys waiting," I said, like a good host. "Oliver's on his way. He forgot. I swear I could brand it to his arm and he still wouldn't get the message."

"Tell me about it," his mother exclaims, launching a story about Hank (Oli's father) and forgetting a birthday. "I mean, how could you forget!? After all that planning, it still went right over his head." I rolled my eyes and laughed. Hank just sat silently, a usual stance for the lad. He had accepted that he had forgotten. I would not be surprised if Jean had told this story one thousand times, she sure loved humiliation. I was certain that had to be what founded Oli's drive.

The doorbell distracted us from more humiliating stories and I excused myself, allowing my father to bash his brother. I pulled open the heavy door, and once again regretted my decision of wanting mahogany, it sure was a haul.

"Vic?" I questioned. He wasn't due here for another twelve hours. Make that thirty-six, it was his day off tomorrow.

"Hey, Kels. Sorry to, uh, interrupt," he noted, peering behind me at the giggling gaggle of grown-ups. "I just realized I left my hoe here and wanted to grab it quickly."

"Right of course, come on in." I moved to the side and heaved the door closed behind him. "Is it out back? I can go grab it for you."

"Yeah, but it's fine I-"

"Please," I interrupted him. "I've been with those couples for the past two hours, I'd give anything for a few moments alone." I could not believe I was actually begging him for something, but I was growing desperate.

He chuckled, nodding his head. "Sure, no problem. Parents can get to you sometimes, trust me, I know."

"Ugh, you're a lifesaver," I praised. "Thank you so much, I'll be quick." He nodded and off we went into the kitchen. The couples looked at me in curiosity, the same question dancing in their eyes. There was no need for telepathy to understand what they were thinking. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is Vic. I'm just going to go grab something for him, so if you'll please laugh at his terrible jokes, I assure you I will be back in no time. I'm sorry in advance."

They chuckled and Vic rolled his eyes, already sweet-talking to make up for my introduction. He was powerful with words, so there was no doubt in my mind that he would be on their good side in no time. It was a talent of his.

Vic was extremely charming and it was definitely something I struggled with. I always wanted to be unique. To not fall for the stupid obvious things, much like charm. With Vic, however, I found myself constantly getting spun in his web. He strung words so expertly, and passionately I was instant hooked.

For lack of that Je Ne Sais Quoi I would never be a good business man like Oliver. I would never be anything like Oliver. No one would. He is one of a kind. Vic is, too. In a way, we all are.

All of it makes my life that much harder.