Stormy With a Chance of Wedding, Book 1.5
Lynn Donovan
Copyright
© 2017 Lynn Donovan
Cover Copyright © 2017 George McVey
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious and are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Dedicated to Nisa.
Synopsis:
Six-hundred light years from family and friends, love and marriage can be a tempestuous storm at best. Molly Jacobsen and Dr. Deuce Abraham are no different as they make plans for their wedding. Will they call the whole thing off? Or can friends and their pursuit for purity urge them to marry anyway? What about the flirtatious local doctor, whose morals and natural urges threaten to come between them?
”Is ‘cordially’ spelled right?” Molly Jacobsen squinted at the parchment paper in her hand. “It don’t look right!”
Miriam Moore lowered her calligraphy pen, tucked prematurely graying hair behind her ear, and glanced at the paper Molly held. “Yes, I believe so.”
“I can’t rely on your gut feelings, Miriam.” Molly leapt to her feet. “I need a dictionary. Where’s your dictionary?”
Miriam tapped behind her ear. “Here, same place yours is.”
“Oh.” Molly accessed her comm device. “Look up ‘Cordially’—Huh?” Molly sat back down. “It sure don’t look right.”
Miriam lifted an envelope and wrote the next name and address with the beautifully styled lettering she had learned when she was a child on Earth. There were hundreds of envelopes and hundreds of addresses on Molly’s list. “Stop stressing over the invitations. They’re perfect.”
She finished the envelope and lifted another.
“Why are we doing this during the Spring Festival?” Molly slammed the invitation on the table. “What were we thinking?”
Miriam stiffened and closed her eyes. “We were thinking,” she said slowly. “Your wedding will be one of the stellar events of the Spring Festival. That’s what we were thinking.” Miriam sighed. “Please calm down.”
Molly shoved the invitation in Miriam’s face. “Do we really want this at the bottom?”
Miriam leaned back, so she could focus on the words. “What? The part about a reception?”
“Yes, this just seems stupid! ‘Please stay and wish the newlyweds well.’” Molly paced behind Miriam’s chair. “It’s embarrassing!”
“It’s fine!” Miriam sighed. She laid her stylus down. “What’s going on, Molly?”
Molly’s lip trembled. Her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know!” she wailed. “Everything’s wrong!”
Miriam wrapped an arm around her. “Honey! What everything is wrong?”
“It should be my mom sitting here helping me address the envelopes—no offense.”
Miriam closed her eyes and shook her head, “None taken.”
“Kita should be driving me crazy, telling me my dress is not the latest fashion and my color scheme’s all wrong. Today’s trends are… I don’t know… maroon and fuchsia!”
“Of course your dress isn’t the latest fashion, it’s vintage.” Miriam tilted her head. “You don’t like your dress?”
“No! It’s not that. I love my dress. Mrs. Lupus’s tailor made it especially for me. It’s perfect.”
“What’s wrong with the color scheme?” Miriam scrunched her brow. “Black, pale green, and white? It compliments your beautiful red hair!”
“No, it’s fine.” Molly sighed.
F“Then, I don’t understand.”
Molly flopped crossways in her chair. “I don’t either.”
Dr. Yelsie Brevis flicked her beady, wolf-keen eyes right and left, up and down the Infirmary hall, and slipped into the Doctors’ Lounge behind Dr. Deuce Abraham. His back was to her as he filled a thermal cup with coffee. Quietly, she padded up to him. As an Omicronian, she defaulted to the silver wolf agility to sneak up on her prey. She lowered her voice to a sultry tone and raised one eyebrow. “Long night?”
He started, inhaling sharply. “Oh!” He glared at her as he shook the scalding coffee off his fingers. “Yeah, we had two uncomplicated deliveries, a cesarean, and a perforated appendix with a periappendiceal abscess.”
“Ah. That sounds rough.” Yelsie stepped into his spot and filled her own thermal cup, adding sugar and yak cream. She stirred and stirred way longer than she needed to and continued to watch him.
She leaned slightly toward him and subtly sniffed. He smelled of unease, like a leporidae sensing a snare. Mentally, she paused. The Earthies called them rabbits. Anyway, she liked that aroma on him.
Deuce sipped the hot coffee. “It was touch and go for a little bit with the appendectomy. But we managed to get the infection cleaned out. He’s on IV antibiotics, now. I’ll stay to look in on him after a while. I want to check on the C-section first.”
Yelsie nodded as she pushed off from the coffee station. “You’re a good doctor.”
Unnecessarily continuing to stir her coffee, she strolled to the round table where he had sat and eased into the chair next to him. Tenderly, she laid her right hand over his left.
Deuce cleared his throat and pulled his hand out from under hers. “Yeah, well, I do what I can. Isn’t that why we became doctors in the first place?”
Yelsie deepened her voice just a little more. She knew her low guttural tone drove the earth men wild. “Well, of course.”
She tilted her head as Deuce backed away. How odd it didn’t work on this one. Sure, he had hooked up with that other Earthy, Molly Jacobsen, but Yelsie seriously thought it was an empathy romance. The woman had nearly died in Dr. Deuce’s arms. Luckily, Yelsie had been on duty that day. She recognized the poison’s side effects from the plant out at the Colonies. They called it X because the silly Earthies couldn’t possibly pronounce the word her people used, Xrråphgraä.
Yelsie chuckled to herself, and then quickly closed her mouth. She knew how disturbing the Omicronian’s canine maw appeared to the tiny-mouthed Earthies. She puckered her lips and sipped her coffee. A bright orange lip print stained the rim. “Mmmm. They really know how to brew this stuff, don’t they?”
Deuce mumbled a single syllabled response.
She watched him from the corner of her eye. He appeared to be reading something on his holographic screen. Two could play at this game. She activated her comm device and opened the local news. “Did you see they have finished constructing the Botanical Building? It’ll be open for the Spring Festival. You gonna go?”
“Uh. Yes, that’s where… we toured… It looks nice,” Deuce stammered.
Why didn’t he want to tell her that was where he and that Molly Jacobsen were planning to be coupled? Everybody knew.
Of course, he wasn’t joined yet—
“Oh, Doctor,” Yelsie stood and leaned over his shoulder. She drew in a sharp sniff. “You have something… a string.” She leaned in and bit the string with her teeth, brushing her lips across his collar. “Oh, gee. I’m afraid I got lipcolor on your collar. My scratch!”
“What?” Deuce shoved her away and wiped at his collar as if he were trying to knock off a spider.
Yelsie giggled as she walked out of the Doctors’ Lounge. Let him explain that to his precious Molly Jacobsen.
Deuce hurried to the mirror over the sink. He moistened a towelette and tried to clean the bright orange smear. Why did she do that? He gave up wiping and drank the last of his coffee. He needed to make his rounds and go home.
He had parked his vehicle in the spot marked, “Dr. A. Abraham.” His father had placed it above the primo parking space near the Infirmary’s entrance, but no one had objected to his parking there, so he’d simply left it alone. Right now, he was grateful for the short walk. It had been a long night and he looked forward to lying down in his own bed. He needed a nap before he met Molly for lunch.
He fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.
An irritating sound drew him from a dream that he couldn’t remember. It was the virtual alarm clock in his comm device. And it was the third snooze warning.
He was late.
He leapt out of bed and splashed water on his face and through his hair. He combed it with his fingers and hurried to his utility vehicle. Molly had been on edge lately with the wedding coming nearer. He didn’t want to do anything to add to her volatile mood. He chuckled as he dashed down the long country road toward the Nidum village.
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