Just Beginning by Theresa Rizzo

independent woman. I respect that, but I also respect someone who knows her limits and asks for help when she needs it.”
    “And I will if I need it. But I don’t. I’m fine, and you’ve got to get to work.”
    “Let me hire a wedding planner for you.”
    “I don’t want a wedding planner.” She smiled at Gabe. “I’ve been planning this day since I was a little girl.”
    “I don’t want you stressing over this. You’re spread too thin.”
    Jenny raised an eyebrow. “Have you always been this bossy?”
    “Have you always been this stubborn?
    She nodded. “Pretty much.” Jenny wondered if he bossed Judith around like this, somehow she doubted it. His ex-wife was pretty strong-willed. Ex-wife. Hmm. “Hey, Gabe? What was your first wedding like?”
    “Doesn’t matter. This is your wedding.”
    “And yours.” Suddenly it was important to know what his and Judith’s wedding had been like. “What was it like?”
    Gabe shrugged. “The usual. Tux. Church wedding. Friends. Family. Band.”
    Jenny glanced at her bible and Pinterest pictures—everything she was planning.
    “Flowers. Fancy food. It doesn’t matter,” Gabe said.
    It did. Very much. Everybody always said the wedding was for the bride, but this was Gabe’s second wedding, and she wanted it to be amazing for him, too. Maybe that’s what had been bugging her. Her gaze strayed to her scrapbook. She’d been following the plan, but what if this plan didn’t fit her and Gabe?
    “Do we really need all this?” Jenny nodded at the wedding bible.
    “What do you mean?” His eyes narrowed on her as if wondering if this was a trick question.
    “Do you care at all about the flowers? The invitations? The music, the clothes, the guests, ceremony, food...” She waved a negligent hand at her computer and wedding bible. “...etcetera.”
    “Of course I do.”
    Jenny frowned, reprimanding. “Truth.”
    “If it matters to you, it matters to me.”
    “Gabe,” she drew out his name in a warning.
    Gabe cocked his head and looked apologetic. “Not really. But it’s fine,” he hurried on. “I want it to be perfect for you.”
    With a twinge of relief, some of her exhaustion lifted. Jenny shut the Pinterest screen. “In that case, I have an idea.”

 
     
     
Chapter 7
     
     
    Five days later, Jenny sat in the car outside her parents’ house and pulled out her checkbook and a pen. To Mary and Michael Campbell, five hundred dollars and zero zero over one hundred. Jennifer Lyn Campbell. Jenny smiled as she tore the slip loose. Ah, the sweet sound of freedom . She recorded the check, tucked the checkbook and pen back into her purse, and went in search of Mom.
    Wednesday mornings, she volunteered in the school library, but she should be home now. Jenny’d deliberately dropped by before Michael got home so she could catch Mom alone. She pushed through the back door. “Mom?”
    “In here.”
    Jenny followed the sound of her mom’s voice to the study. Mom got up and rounded the desk.
    “Just catching up on my email.” She smiled. “What’re you doing here in the middle of the day?”
    Jenny pulled the check out of her back pocket. Shoulders back, chin up, she held it out. “Paying off my loan. Thank you very much, I appreciate the help.”
    Jenny’d deliberately made the payment to both Mom and Dad, and she’d given it to Mom—not Dad—so she’d feel included.
    Her mother took the check and stared at it a second before looking at Jenny. “I’d have loaned you the money, too.”
    “I know.” Jenny gave her mom a hug. “You’ve always been there for me, even when other parents probably would have kicked me out, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all you and Dad have sacrificed and done. I don’t tell you that enough, but I do appreciate it.”
    Mom shook her head. “We know. We don’t expect your undying gratitude. We’re happy to help—that’s what parents do.” She smiled, an impish glint lighting her eyes. “We just