"Um, nothing really," I lie. "I don't think I want him to marry us, Phillip."
Phillip is taken aback by my comment. "Why not?"
Fortunately, we just pulled into the parking lot of the bar where we're meeting a bunch of friends to watch the Husker game. I quickly hop out of the car without answering.
I don't usually say this, but I could seriously use a drink right now. I'm still feeling shaken. I'm not sure what to tell Phillip about why I don't want Pastor to marry us. If I do, I'll have to tell him what he said.
And what he said is something I don't wanna talk about.
Phillip casually takes my hand as we walk across the parking lot.
I take a deep breath. I don't know what it is about Phillip, but when he holds my hand, I feel like I could take on the world.
I don't need a drink, just Phillip.
"So why don't you want him to marry us?"
"He's just getting old. I want our wedding to be cool," I lie. Badly lie at that. We were just at a wedding he did that was very contemporary.
Phillip looks at me kinda funny, but when we walk in the bar, Joey immediately slaps Phillip on the back, hands us hot damn shots, and makes us cheer, Go Big Red.
While I try really hard not to cry.
I've pushed my run in with Pastor to the back of my mind. The man knows nothing. I'm also going to have to find a new church, which sucks because I know practically everyone there. I've also decided to push all the wedding planning nonsense to the back of my mind. Phillip and I are gonna have some fun first, and fun begins today with Naughty Dream Week.
I'm super excited about this, but I'm also feeling a little nervous. What if he thinks it's silly?
Danny told me that Phillip will love it, so I'm going to do it, even if it means making a bit of a fool of myself. What do they say about fools in love?
I forget, but anyway.
I want to surprise Phillip, but I also think anticipation is half the fun. So to clue him in a little, I snuck in the bathroom after he was asleep and wrote in lipstick on the mirror.
It must be bugging him because he just texted me.
Phillipbaby<3 Dreams??
Me: Yeah ;)
Phillipbaby<3 Like "sweet dreams"???
Me: More like "your dreams"!!!
Phillipbaby<3 I'm living my dream.
Me: Well, then maybe I shouldn't do it.
Phillipbaby<3 Do what?
Me: My plan ;)
Phillipbaby<3 What plan? You're driving me nuts.
Me: That's sort of the point. It is naughty dream week after all.
Phillipbaby<3 Naughty dream week??
Me: Yep. Get ready to "live" your dreams. And be home by 7. We're going out for pizza and beer first.
Phillipbaby<3 Yum. Where we going?
Me: Johnny's.
Phillipbaby<3 I haven't been there in forever.
Me: I know :)
Phillipbaby<3 Did I have a naughty dream about Johnny's pizza?
Me: I don't know, did you?
Phillipbaby<3 I love you.
Me: You'll love me more after tonight.
I look a bit ridiculous at Johnny's. I'm wearing the bombshell bra under a tight little baseball shirt.
And I do magically have amazing cleavage.
I know, and Philip knows, that the extra cleavage is kinda fake, but he doesn't seem to mind.
He keeps staring at it.
Probably wishing it were real.
Anyway, I nixed Danny's idea of shorts because I thought, well, I thought they might prove to make things more difficult, if you catch my drift. So instead, I wore the teeniest denim mini skirt known to man.
It barely covers my ass, and we'll hope I don't have to bend over to pick anything up, or the world will see my blue and white striped thong. (Yes, it's even striped like a pair of baseball pants! I'm totally into this!)
I completed the look with tall white athletic socks and these wedged heels that sorta look like tennis shoes. I even did the braids and the baseball hat as Danny suggested. He seemed to get into that part, so I hoped Phillip would have the same response.
I will admit, the overall look is pretty damn sexy.
Or at least Phillip thought so when I came out in it.
He whistled at me, and then he asked me very seriously if I was really going to Johnny's dressed that way. He said, You know, it is a family place.
I took that as a compliment. Figured maybe Danny does know what he's talking about occasionally. I just laughed and wouldn't tell him anything else.
Over a pitcher of beer and some yummy pizza, he says, "That outfit is smoking hot, and I'm not complaining, but I don't get how the whole dream thing fits in."
I told him, "Oh, this is just the pre-party. Dreams don't start until after dark."
He nodded in understanding while his eyes happily floated back down to my fake cleavage.
I made him drive to the old ball field. We parked in the back parking lot, and I spread a blanket over his hood. I pulled two Gatorade bottles out of the little cooler, I had stashed in the backseat, then handed him a bag of sunflower seeds.
He took a drink and said, "I think I get this now. And I like."
We laid there for a while, holding hands, drinking Gatorade, talking, and staring at the stars. When I figured it was time, I straddled that boy and started making out with him like crazy.
Although this whole dream thing is supposed to be for Phillip's benefit, I'm really enjoying myself. Phillip has my shirt unbuttoned and is kissing the fake cleavage while I'm trying to undo his pants.
All of a sudden, car headlights wash over us. I see a police car pulling into the lot.
The cop parks and turns on his big spotlight. I quickly roll off Phillip and try to button up my shirt.
Shit! There goes my big plan.
All we really got to do was make out!
"Shit, Phillip. Cops!"
To myself, I say, Nothing going on here, officer. Nothing at all. Just innocently sitting here looking at the stars.
But then I whisper to Phillip. "Can we get in trouble for this?"
"I don't think so. We're not really doing anything wrong."
"There's vodka in the Gatorade!!"
"We're legal now, Princess. Chill. I doubt he'll open the Gatorade. It's not like we're sitting here swigging out of a vodka bottle, and most of the Westown cops are pretty cool."
An officer shines a flashlight in our eyes and says, "Well, I'll be damned. JJ Reynolds, how the hell are you?"
"Cookie!" Cookie is obviously a nickname, but that's all I've ever known him by. He used to play wiffle ball with my dad on Sundays, and he also helped Phillip get me to the hospital the night my parents died.
"Are we in trouble?" I ask him.
He changes his voice, deepens it, sounding like a tough cop. We could tell he was just teasing us, so we went along with it. "You kids been drinking?"