And Many Happy Tomorrows, Chapter 4 (Fic)
Chapter 4:
Two weeks later:
Much of the drive from the airport went by in a blur. Mike and Allie had flown into LaGuardia, on the respective red-eye flights from LAX and YVR and arrived too early for Mike to think properly. They’d grabbed coffee and what passed as breakfast from the closest obligatory Starbucks, and then changed out of their sleep-rumpled traveling clothes into ‘respectable attire,’ as Allie called it, before picking up a rental hybrid SUV and heading out of New York and into Connecticut.
Traffic was miserable at the start, with Mike incredibly glad Allie had offered to drive. She seemed to think he was too nervous to be trusted with a vehicle when doing anything wedding related. Mike would have objected only he really relished the idea of being able to sleep, having only dozed for an hour or so on the flight.
Allie, on the other hand, was annoyingly chipper (and relaxed), and also seemed unaffected by the heat-which was again near-record-breaking and made Mike eternally grateful for the invention of modern air conditioning.
Once they got out of New York the traffic eased, and Mike remained in a fugue state until they’d left the freeway, at which point they stopped for another cup of coffee, which finally helped wake Mike up. Right then he was really glad that he could drink as much coffee as he wanted without fear for his health. Sometimes he really didn’t know how Jensen coped with his medically limited caffeine intake. Of course thinking of Jen’s health issues inevitably drew his thoughts back to Chris in the hospital, and the breath-stopping terror he had felt, and the related stomach-churning nervousness that seemed to accompany any thoughts of their upcoming nuptials. It wasn’t the wedding or the marriage that had Mike freaked, more the waiting until the wedding.
Mike looked over at Allie, who was driving way too fast for his liking. She was watching the road intently, and ok, it was the middle of summer, sunny, and dry, and not treacherous weather like driving in blinding rain or snow or sleet, but the point was the same. It just seemed unsafe and too fast for the narrow, twisty, windy two-lane that was wending its way through the forest. Yes, Mike, who loved fast cars and fast… anything… found some driving speeds to be uncomfortable. Even if he was behind the wheel he wouldn’t be going quite that fast. It was one thing to be doing 100 in a sixty-five when they were on I-95, hell speeding on freeways in Connecticut was a trite cliché, but out here…
“What?” Allie asked, taking her eyes off the road to throw Mike a sarcastically annoyed glance.
“Nothing,” he said too quickly.
She snorted, “Yeah, right, ‘cause you hanging onto the ‘oh shit’ handle is purely for kicks.” She turned back to the road much to Mike’s relief.
He looked at his hand, and yeah, he hadn’t realized he was holding on quite that tightly. With a nervous sigh he let go of the rental SUV’s door accessory and leaned back in the seat, actually allowing himself to slump back and slide down a bit, adjusting the seatbelt with his shaky hands.
“You got a problem with my driving?” Allie asked as she took yet another sharp curve at something approaching sixty miles an hour.
Mike didn’t dare look over at the speedometer, and just barely managed to refrain from reaching out for the handle again. Instead he gripped his thighs tightly, watching his fingers dig into the fabric of his dress slacks, nervously sweaty palms leaving damp imprints on the light grey fabric. “No,” he managed at last.
“Good, ‘cause you know I’m not going that fast, and besides, it’s practically a fucking requirement that one speed when driving in this state,” Allie chuckled. She shot him a brief, stern glance, the late afternoon sunlight catching her hair and lending it a distracting, mesmerizing shine. “Unless this is some sort of ‘women are bad driver’s thing’?” she asked.
“What? No!” Mike denied in what he realized sounded way too defensive. “I mean, no,” he added more calmly. “I’m pretty sure I’d be freaking out no matter who was driving,” he admitted.
Allie chuckled teasingly, her laughs positively shaking her in her seat.
“You bitch,” Mike retorted.
“Had you going there for a minute,” she shot back, smile so wide her grin was obvious even in profile.
“You have been with Danneel for way too long. Her sense of humor has totally rubbed off on you,” he grumbled before finally giving in to the urge to laugh. Mike felt himself relaxing somewhat and let go of his death grip on his legs.
“Thank you,” Allie said, throwing another smile his way, “I take that as a huge compliment.”
Mike nodded in reply and finally settled himself into staring out the window at the leafy, green deciduous foliage, stone walls, and gently rolling hills that were whizzing by at mesmerizing speed. Northeastern forests were so different than anything you found in the Midwest or anywhere on the West Coast. They drove in silence for several minutes as Mike did his best to not think about the flip-flopping butterflies in his stomach.
“You do realize it’s not my driving that’s got you wound tighter than Jen doing red carpet interviews, right?” Allie asked about five minutes later.
“Wha-” Mike started, not entirely sure he’d heard her right. After all, he had been more focused on the blur outside the window than on anything happening inside the vehicle.
“Please, sweetie, I’m not driving that fast.” She shook her head and took one hand off the wheel to point accusingly at Mike, “You’re just freaking out because we’re going to see a place where you and Chris might get married.”
“But I want to marry him, hell I proposed,” Mike shot back, shifting again so that he was now leaning more or less against the door, which ok, not the safest thing, so maybe he really wasn’t worried about the speed?
“Of course you do,” Allie explained calmly. “But this is a big step towards making it real. You’re probably at least as much freaked out by worrying that it won’t happen or that it won’t be perfect as much as you are freaked out by the prospect of marriage itself.”
Mike scratched his head in thought, pausing to look at the platinum and turquoise engagement band on his left ring finger. “I love him.” And ok, of course he loved Chris, but it was more the continuing realization that he loved Chris, needed Chris, in a way he hadn’t really ever expected to find. It wasn’t storybook romance. It wasn’t all about hot, mind-blowing sex (although there was that), it was the unexpected partnership of having someone who got so entwined in your life that you stopped knowing where you ended and they began. The hour or so he’d spent not knowing if Chris was ok or not had been one of the most (if not the most) disorienting and unsetting experiences in his life. He had kept reaching for Chris, expecting him to be at most a phone call away, always there for support or advice or help or a good second opinion, but then he wasn’t and…
“Of course you do,” Allie said, drawing Mike out of his head and managing to keep the unstated ‘duh’ out of her voice. “And he loves you, and you’ve been together for a long time. That doesn’t make any of this less scary.”
Mike nodded silently, letting the truth of her statement sink in. “You and Danni ever think of getting hitched?” he asked out of curiosity.
Allie was silent, and for a moment, Mike thought he’d crossed some unstated line, or worse, not picked up on some tragic event in Allie’s relationship. But before he could feel like a bad friend or start apologizing for sticking his foot in his mouth, Allie spoke. “We’ve talked about it. I’m not sure if it’s something we’re going to do,” she said thoughtfully.
Mike started to open his mouth, but Allie turned to him with a sarcastic glare.
“It’s not like that,” she whined. “It’s…” she huffed. Paused, taking a moment to look around and slowing down as she turned off of the state road they’d been following onto something smaller and-thankfully-taking it at a slower speed. After competing the turn, she took a few moments to collect her thoughts and began again, trying a different tack. “I’m pretty sure Danni’s ‘the one,’ if there is such a thing, and I know she feels the same way. We’re both in it for the long haul. But weddings, marriage…” She cocked her head. “There’s a whole different set of implications and impressions and stereotypes that go along with it if you’re a woman… and then another set if you’re a lesbian. Danni’s not sure she wants to be a cliché or give up her independence, and neither am I.”
“I get that,” Mike answered with a nod. “I mean, I was pretty sure Chris was never going to be interested in getting married and then… things changed.” It was his turn to cock his head as he regarded Allie and the somewhat rigid line of her body in the driver’s seat. “You want it more than she does, though,” he observed.
“Not gonna deny it,” she admitted.
“But everything’s ok, between you right? I mean… shit; here I am dragging you to go location scouting with me…” Mike sputtered, feeling the pink tinge of embarrassment creep into his cheeks, ears, and neck.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist, darlin’, your wedding may be a big deal, but it’s not the thing that makes the world go round, and you’re not causing problems for me,” Allie quipped in a tone that reminded him disturbingly of Chris. She leveled a most serious gaze at Mike. “I’m here because you’re one of my very closest and dearest friends, and I am honored to be your best man, and you need me right now to keep you from freaking the fuck out. So just, get all those silly notions out of your head.” She paused, “Besides, you’re making it sound like we’re filming some major production here; it’s just a bed and breakfast.”
“Sorry,” Mike chuckled. “Wasn’t meaning to be so self-important.”
“Relax,” Allie replied. “It is your wedding. You’re entitled to get a little swept up in it,” she teased, “It’s just, Danni’s from Louisiana, things are… a lot tougher there, so she’s a lot more cynical than me in the marriage department.” She scrunched up her nose, “A lot like Jen and Chris, actually. Not to mention she’s in North Carolina most of the time, and if we got married or a domestic partnership…” she let her voice trail off.
“It wouldn’t be recognized there anyway,” Mike answered, feeling a little sick. He was so lucky that for the entirety of his and Chris’s relationship they had both lived places where there was at least some legal recognition available if they wanted it. Allie and Danni didn’t have it and that was just…
“It’s unfair,” Allie said with uncharacteristic bitterness.
“Yeah,” Mike agreed.
“No, I mean, well, yeah, it’s unfair, but I meant specifically that if we got married right now, I’d get all the benefit, and Danni would get more or less screwed,” Allie explained. “I worry.” She shot Mike another glance.
Mike reached out and squeezed her shoulder gently, careful not to surprise her since she was, well, still driving the car really fast. “I know what you mean. I’ve been terrified ever since Chris was in the hospital, can’t stop the ‘what if’s’ from running through my mind. Keep worrying something will happen and I won’t know or I won’t be able to see him…”
“It’s scary and it sucks,” Allie agreed. “But we’ve done what we can to protect ourselves, and if all goes well, in about three weeks, you and Chris will be christening a honeymoon suite somewhere around here.”
Mike chuckled, “I still can’t believe it.”
They exchanged a wry smile.
“Do you remember when “Smallville” started?” Allie asked, “And we were all getting to know each other?”
Mike remembered the somewhat painful, isolated time with a physical cringe. “I was being such a prick, or at least I felt like it. Total party animal all the time.”
“You weren’t that bad, more just silly,” she frowned. “Almost had me fooled that you really were just a pot-smoking playboy until I realized you weren’t actually leaving with anyone, just flirting, and you looked so depressed-”
“And then you finally had the nerve to come over and say you were so glad you hadn’t found the only set in the whole world with only one gay actor,” Mike added over her words.
She smirked at him. “You totally made a crazy fish face until you figured out what I meant. Still- can you believe how different things are now compared to then?” she added somewhat incredulously.
“Yeah, although I’m not forgetting about your ridiculous crush on Kristin anytime soon,” Mike replied. Then it occurred to him. “It’s all Jensen’s fault, isn’t it? I mean, in a good way. If he hadn’t shown up I probably never would have met Chris-”
“And I wouldn’t have met Danni,” Allie admitted.
“And yet, sometimes I still can’t believe it,” Mike added, suppressing the urge to pinch himself.
Allie turned the car up a long driveway with an artistically carved wood sign and said, “Well, get used to it sweetheart, ‘cause we’re here.” She pulled into an empty space in the small, gravel parking lot and turned off the engine.
Mike looked out at the sprawling, white colonial that stood before them. It was picturesque, idyllic even, surrounded by a large fenced field on one side and gently sloping woods that rapped around the back and the opposite side of the building with the glinting twinkle of water just visible through the trees. Before them, a colorful flower garden surrounded by a miniature, white picket fence framed both sides of the gently curving flagstone walkway that led from its trellis-framed start at the parking lot up to the bed and breakfast’s front steps. “Oh goodie,” he deadpanned, earning a swat from Allie.
~~~
The parking lot had been mostly empty, a handful of cars in the designated ‘staff parking’ spaces and only two other vehicles in non-staff spots. Probably, Mike concluded after checking his watch, because it was about 11am on a Tuesday-not exactly a prime day of the week for a B&B to be booked and sufficiently late enough to be almost between checkout and check-in. As a result, they were able to avoid running into any gawkers.
Mike and Allie were met at the front door by a uniformed concierge who took them around the main building, showing them the ballroom, honeymoon suite, screened dining porch, and several other guest rooms before leading them around the grounds showing them the horse stables (hidden behind the main building), tennis courts (next the stable), and finally the boathouse (which was on the lake itself).
After their tour, Mike found himself seated next to Allie in the owner’s office waiting for the owner (who was also the manager) to meet them. Mike felt distinctly like a kid waiting in the principle’s office, which he said aloud, resulting in Allie nearly falling off her chair in a fit of giggles.
Allie was still trying to compose herself when the door opened and a fifty-something Caucasian woman with graying blond hair and a suit worthy of Martha Stewart in her glory days entered.
Mike and Allie both hastily stood, as if greeting a dignitary.
“Sit down, sit down,” the woman insisted, motioning them down with her hands.
Her voice was far huskier than expected and when combined with the relaxed, casual, almost butch way she dropped into the seat on the other side of the desk, Mike immediately revised his assessment of her. Not that Martha Stewart after all. Well, maybe if those rumors were true…
“Mary Sheldon,” she said extending her hand and shaking Mike’s and Allie’s in turn as they introduced themselves.
There was an awkward moment where Mike wasn’t sure if she recognized them or not. They were all seated again and apparently waiting for the others to speak, so Mike decided to break the ice. “So, my agent contacted you, I believe, and, uh, told you about our situation, and said that you had a cancellation and might be able to fit us in?”
Allie caught his eye mouthing “our situation,” as she rolled her eyes with sarcasm.
“Yes,” Mary said looking between Mike and Allie. “Normally Labor Day weekend is very busy for us, but we had a cancellation.” She paused, leveling a somewhat regretful gaze at Mike. “As I explained to your agent, Mr. Rosenbaum, we were booked solid for another event that was unexpectedly cancelled last week. As a result, we have the full facility available,” she said leaning back in her leather-upholstered wingback chair and surveying them with a cautiously distant gaze.
“So you can fit us in?” Mike said, sounding overeager to his own ears. “I mean, I know this is short notice and all, but we’re just looking for a nice, discreet location for a smallish wedding, and this seemed like it might work.” He blushed, dropping his hands to his lap and twisting his hands in the slight bubble of fabric created by his pockets.
“Is Ms Mack,” she glanced at Allie for acknowledgement she’d remembered the correct name, “your fiancée?” Mary asked cautiously as she pulled two elaborately branded folders out of the desk drawer and passed them across the table to Mike and Allie.
Mike took the folder, but turned embarrassingly red at the implication.
Allie’s laugh barked explosively. She held her head in her hands and shook her head ‘no.’
Are we giving off ‘couple’ vibes? he wondered as he glanced at the impressionistically styled image of the bed and breakfast on the cover of what proclaimed itself to be ‘your guide to the perfect event.’
“I’m the best man,” She explained, as she too picked up the folder and flipped it open to examine the contents.
“My partner is in Oregon filming right now,” Mike explained, feeling the blush recede slightly. “He couldn’t come, so Allie’s here for moral support, and to keep me from making any stupid decisions,” he added nodding at Allie with a genuinely thankful smile. Hell, he probably wouldn’t have gotten up the nerve to look at the place if she hadn’t been there to coax him. “I… we know we’re asking a lot trying to book only three weeks in advance, but it’s really important to Chris and me to get married soon, and there aren’t a lot of options place-wise.”
“I can understand,” Mary said, nodding, “My wife and I actually got married here last year,” she said with a smile that was much warmer and more welcoming than her demeanor moments before.
Pleased his instincts had been correct, Mike was momentarily relieved, letting the informational folder rest on his lap and managing to slip into a more relaxed posture in the chair. “We’re also hoping to keep things under wraps, no leaks to the press or unexpected intrusions.” He met Mary’s gaze across the desk. She seemed cautiously guarded, but didn’t speak, so he continued, hoping she wouldn’t be offended that he and Chris were still closeted. “We’re not out professionally, and while we’re not absolutely opposed to the idea, if we come out, we want it to be on our terms, and we don’t want press or gossip taking the focus away from our, uh, special day.” He cringed as he said it. ‘Special day’ just sounded so stupid, but really couldn’t think of a better way to describe it. “Besides,” he added glancing at Allie, “we have friends who will be attending, and we don’t want them getting outed without their consent either.” He looked back at Marry and held her gaze, “So, what I’m saying is that we need a confidentiality guarantee as part of the contract. I… I hope you understand.”
“Of course,” Mary said, and her smile was genuine. She reached into another drawer and pulled out what appeared to be a detailed form contract. “Don’t worry, you’re not the first couple we’ve had marry here that had publicity or security concerns.” She passed Mike a copy of the document. “While I’m sure we’d all love it if we didn’t have to worry about that stuff,” she shrugged, “that’s reality. We’re here to make sure your wedding goes off without a hitch-aside from you and your husband getting hitched that is-” she added cocking a finger in Mike’s direction, drawing a pained groan from Allie, and causing Mike to blush, again. Mary broke into a very broad smile as she continued. “That’s our standard contract,” she said, pointing at the document, which Mike was now examining. “Most of the clauses in there are fully negotiable. My wife’s a lawyer, and she will be happy to negotiate the terms with you, your partner, agent, attorney, and anyone else who needs to get involved.” She spread her hands flat on the mahogany desk in front of her. “We have the full facility available, so if you want to rent it out, it’s all yours. There would be no other guests on site.”
“That sounds great,” Mike said with genuine relief. He was so worried it would be more difficult, especially since they really didn’t have many (or possibly any) other options to consider unless they wanted to buy a house and host the wedding there, elope, or pick a different date.
“Wonderful!” Mary exclaimed. “Now let’s decide what services you need, and get the ball rolling. We do provide on-site catering and music and have a contract with a local bakery specializing in wedding cakes. You are also welcome to bring in your own vendors, but if you want, all you need is to provide an officiant, flowers, and a photographer.” She smiled warmly again. “And yourselves, of course.”
Mike couldn’t help laughing. “That sounds great. Considering the timing, I think we’ll take everything you can give us.”
~~~
Chris had been protesting that he was ‘ok’ and 100%, but when he finally got back on set after two weeks off, the truth was he was still hurting. Bad. Jonathan was directing the episode they were currently filming, and after seeing Chris wince for what was easily the tenth time in as many minutes, he called for an unscheduled thirty-minute break.
“Look, I know how much it sucks to have to do any kind of acting when you’re hurt, it’s even worse when it’s an action scene,” Jonathan said quietly to Chris after pulling him aside. Jonathan laid his hand gently on Chris’s shoulder. “Just take the time, sit down with some ice and some Advil, and when you’re not looking like you’re gonna hurl every time you take a deep breath, we’ll start up again.”
Chris, out of habit more than anything, of course tried to protest, suggesting it would be better for the cast and crew if he powered through. They’d get out of there sooner after all.
Jonathan wasn’t hearing any of it. “Chris, if we keep filming it’s going to take you at least twice as long and three times as many takes to get anything done,” he added with a knowing eye-roll. “Just take a break and everyone will thank you for it,” he insisted, gently nudging Chris in the direction of his trailer.
Which was how Chris found himself twenty minutes later talking about wedding plans with Beth and Jeri, of all people.
“Have you hired a videographer yet?” Beth asked from her sprawl in Chris’s armchair. “They book early, but sometimes they’ll do multiple events in one day. You should look now, it may not seem like it, but it’s really not something you’ll want to skimp on.” She sounded very sage and was wearing a knowing grin.
Chris shrugged, momentarily forgetting it was a horrible idea, and then flinched, clutching the melting ice pack snugger against his ribs. At this rate, they would be breaking for a lot longer than a half hour. He was still feeling woozy, and so far the 800mg Advil he’d taken hadn’t done jack shit. “I don’t know if we’re going to tape it,” Chris managed at last. “Sure, we could get someone to sign a confidentiality clause, but neither Mike nor I wants to deal with someone trying to make a buck off of our wedding,” he explained. “I’m really not sure if I want to come out,” Chris added, feeling the need for full disclosure.
“Have you thought about asking someone on the crew?” Jeri suggested. She was currently half-buried in Chris’s freezer looking for another ice pack. “They know you and respect you, so they’re not about to go blabbing to the press. Besides, you might get better quality filming,” she said, turning from the freezer and pausing to toss the icepack in a gentle underhand arc so it landed gracefully (and softly) in Chris’s waiting hands.
That’s an idea, Chris thought with a mental shrug, swapping out the too-warm ice pack and settling the fresh one over his ribs. He knew he should probably give it a rest before re-icing, but the first pack hadn’t been that cold to start with, so he was still feeling deep, throbbing, stabbing pain instead of the pleasantly dulled ache that should accompany freshly iced ribs. “I’ll suggest it to Mike, see what he thinks,” he said aloud, then snorted. “Shit, why am I asking two divorced women about wedding plans anyway? I must be crazy, that or driving you crazy. Geez, I’m sorry-”
“Relax,” Beth said, holding up a hand to stop his self-effacing rant. “We wouldn’t be helping you out if we didn’t want to.”
“Besides,” Jeri said, strolling back into the living room and dropping to a seat on the opposite end of the couch from Chris, “I know how important privacy is, remember? I’m the last person who’s going to suggest you do something that will get your private life smeared all over the press,” she added with a hint of bitterness, as she tossed one of the cushions in Chris’s direction. There was no heat behind it, so apparently she wasn’t that upset, but Chris has clearly struck a nerve.
He inwardly cringed, recalling the events to which Jeri referred and feeling incredibly shitty for it. “I’m sorry, shit, I forgot all about that,” he admitted, hanging his head with embarrassment.
“Trust me, that’s a good thing,” Jeri said with a smile reaching forward to swat Chris on the knee and get his attention. “So, what do you have planned?”
“Uh, that’s a good question,” Chris said half-jokingly.
Beth shot him an inquisitive glance, clearly not going to let him off so easily.
He looked back at Jeri, turning slowly to avoid aggravating his ribs. Her gaze was just as piercing.
“Chris,” she began, “Look, I haven’t known you as long as Beth or anyone else here, but I know you’re a great guy, and Mike’s a great guy, and I want to see you happy.” She chuckled and leaned forward. “Right now you look like you’re about ten seconds from having a panic attack and freaking out over something that should be fun, not terrifying.”
“Uh, we’ve got rings,” he said, waving his hand around, showing the ring, “and we think we’re getting married in Connecticut?” Chris offered.
Beth tisked, “But you’re not sure, because you don’t have anything booked, right?”
“Well,” Chris looked down at his watch. It was nine am. How is it only nine am? he wondered. He’d had a four am call for his first day back, and after only five hours, he was already exhausted. He thought for the moment doing the math, “Mike’s with our friend Allie checking out a B&B we might be able to use. They should be there right now, so if it all works out, I should know in a few hours.” He sighed. “Of course that means we still don’t have invitations and we haven’t officially invited anyone because we don’t have all the details-” He broke off, looking up at the ceiling with a frightened, high pitched laugh. “Shit, this is never gonna work.” He threw up his hands, or rather, hand, as he wasn’t about to give up his grip on the ice pack.
“Calm down,” Beth said, gently, scooting from the chair to the coffee table, so she could grab Chris’s hand.
God, his hands were shaking. When did they start shaking?
“You’ve told everyone you plan to invite, right? All the people that matter-your friends and family know you’re shooting for Labor Day weekend?” Beth asked, giving Chris an encouraging smile.
“Yeah,” he said, meeting her eye. “But we don’t know-”
“Shh,” Jeri said. “Beth’s right,” she nodded at Beth. “Everyone that needs to know knows when you’re planning for, so they’re already going to be trying to get the weekend free. All you need to do is send them the details and…”
“And unless you don’t find a place until the day before, they’re going to be able to come,” Beth picked up. “All you need to do is let them know; it’s ok if you don’t have time to send a paper invitation.”
“Less chance of some nosy mailman finding out anyway,” Jeri agreed.
“But I kind of like the idea of an invitation,” Chris realized, surprising himself so much he actually let out a little gasp. “I guess, if I’m going to get married, I want some of the traditional wedding stuff… and I know Mike does too. I don’t want to deprive him of that just because I insisted on an impractical date,” he huffed.
“So, send invitations after you tell people the details, or hand them out at the ceremony,” Beth suggested.
“Hmm,” said Jeri.
“Hmm, what?” Chris demanded. “You’re making me nervous,” he said more apologetically when she scowled at him.
“I have a friend who does handmade paper stationery,” Jeri began. “If you’re going to need a relatively small number of invites, I think I could persuade her to bump your order to the top of her list and give you a discount. But not if you’re going to be all demanding about it,” she added.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” Chris said in mock surrender. “Nervous bride-to-be here,” he joked. Then more serious, “If you could, and you really think your friend wouldn’t mind, that would be… awesome.”
“I think she’d say ‘yes,’” Jeri agreed.
“That would be great, thanks,” Chris replied, feeling some of the mounting tension ease.
When Mike called exactly three hours later with the news that they’d booked the Sheldon Inn at Bantam Lake complete with catering, Chris felt his nerves settle a little more. Maybe they could pull this off after all.
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