The Good house was a decent size. It had a wraparound porch and everything was white except for the dark brown roof. The stone walkway split right down a perfectly manicured lawn. There was a swing on one side of the front door in front of a wide window and three rocking chairs on the other. Despite it almost being one in the morning there were two lit windows upstairs and another that seemed to be coming from the back of the house.
"They must have moved," Dean said, sizing the house up. "We've never lived in a place this nice."
I rang the doorbell and the door opened. Mrs. Good was dressed in plaid pajama pants and a sweater with a hole at one of the elbows with her hair up in a ponytail.
"Hey," she greeted, swiping a hand over her stomach. Her baby bump was getting a little bigger. "We've been waiting for you guys."
She ushered us inside. As soon as you walked in, there were a set of brown carpeted stairs on the right with a chocolate brown door underneath. Probably a storage room. On the left was the living room. The carpet was midnight blue almost black and an L-shaped couch was pressed against the sill of a window. There was a granite fireplace with pictures lining the hearth and two huge shelf areas on either side. At the very end of the hall was the kitchen that widely opened into the dining room. Everything was stainless steel with granite countertops and cabinets that were so brown they looked black. There was a window with the curtains pushed back above the sink. It looked out onto the backyard where there was nothing but clear space and woods.
"Hey, guys," Jackson said from the dining table. He was nursing a coffee mug in between his hands.
Mr. Good was seated next to him, doing a crossword puzzle on an old newspaper. Mrs. Good was grinning from ear to ear, clearly happy to see everyone in the same room without the seas parting and a crack forming down the middle of the earth to its core. She grabbed Dean by the shoulders and sat him down beside Jackson. We put our suitcases and duffels on the last empty seat for the time being.
"Do you want anything to drink, honey?" Mrs. Good asked her youngest son.
Dean seemed uncomfortable, but nodded. She turned to me. "Wanna join me in the kitchen, Chelsea?"
"Sure," I replied.
When Mrs. Good disappeared into the kitchen, Dean grabbed my arm. "Can we pretend to love each other for the weekend?" he whispered so quietly into my ear I had to try really hard to hear him. "My family's nosy and if they see that there's trouble in paradise, they'll attack you with questions, okay?"
I leaned away from him and stared. His eyes were pleading. I rolled my eyes and mouthed, "Fine." He puckered his lips out for a kiss and I reluctantly gave him one. He smiled as I followed Mrs. Good into the kitchen.
"So," she said as soon as I leaned against the sink, "how are you and Dean doing?"
She grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured already made coffee from the coffeemaker inside.
"Awesome," I lied. "Never better."
She grinned. "That's good. He told me about you guys dating. I knew it would happen sooner or later."
"So did everyone else," I added.
We both laughed lightheartedly.
"But listen," Mrs. Good began, "I don't want you to get jealous this weekend."
"Why would I get jealous?" I asked.
"Well, because Madison is coming. She's one of my bridesmaids and you know her and Dean used to date. I just don't want you to feel jealous when you see them talking and stuff. They've become great friends ever since they broke up," she explained.
I frowned. "Who told you that?"
"Well, Madison," she answered as if it was obvious.
I scratched the back of my neck. "Um, okay. Thanks for the heads up, I guess."
She smiled at me before going into the dining room.
"Goodnight," Dean called down the hall before shutting the guest bedroom door. When he turned around he looked at me and exhaled.
"Gonna be a crazy day when we wake up in a couple of hours," he stated.
"Yep," I said distractedly.
"What's wrong?"
I shook my head and shrugged out of my clothes, getting my pajamas from the suitcase.
"Come on, tell me."
"I said I was gonna stop telling you things, remember?"
He closed his eyes and sighed. "You're gonna hold this against me forever, aren't you?" he asked.
"Of course."
"Look, Chelsea, you have to believe me. Nothing's going to happen to you," he insisted.
"Why should I believe you when you wouldn't do the same for me," I snapped.
He bit his bottom lip. Then he patted his thigh.
"I'm not sitting on your lap, Dean. I'm not a child."
But he still pulled me toward him and set me there.
"Look," he began, "I believe you, okay? I do-"
"No you do not!" I protested. "You're only saying that because you don't want us in a fight."
I rose to my feet and slipped on my pajama T.
"No, I'm not," he insisted. I turned and stared at him with one of my eyebrows raised. "Okay, maybe, but can you blame me? We've done enough fighting to last all the way to marriage. I'm tired of that, because it seems that's all we do." I knotted the ties of my pajama bottoms into a bow before looking at him through the mirror. "I mean just think about it for a second. You have me, Seth, Roman, The Bellas, and The Authority in your corner. Do you honestly think anyone's gonna touch you with one of us around?"
I looked down and played with the Yankee candle on the dresser. When I looked back up, he had an expectant look on his face, waiting for an answer.
"No," I mumbled. "No, I don't think that."
"Okay, then," Dean said. "Are you still mad at me?"
I sighed. "No."
He grinned and hugged me from behind. "Good," he sighed happily. "I hate it when you're mad at me."
"Sorry for saying I wanted to knock you upside the head," I told him.
He frowned. "You never said that," he pointed out.
"No, but I sure was thinking it." I patted his shoulder and crawled under the covers.
"Rise and shine everyone!" Mrs. Good trilled down the hall.
"She is way too happy for a pregnant lady," he groaned.
I laughed. "Leave her alone. It's her wedding day. Come on, sleepy head."
"What happened to, you can't see the bride before the wedding?" I asked Mrs. Good in the kitchen.
She slapped some pancakes onto a plate. "I don't believe in bad luck anymore," she replied with a shrug. "I feel like I've been through the worst, so really I'm just riding life out from this point." And that was the end of it.
"Hello everyone!"
"Madison!" Mrs. Good squealed. She set Dean's plate in front of him and gave his ex a big hug. "It's so good to see you!"
Madison looked over her shoulder at me. Her eyes narrowed as I gave her a wave.
"Chelsea," she greeted lightheartedly. "Nice to see you again."
"Uh-huh."
The guys just stuffed their faces, sensing the tension.
"So you're a bridesmaid?" she asked, removing her sunglasses from the top of her head.
"Yep," I answered.
She nodded. "Interesting." She turned to Dean. "Well, hello, Dean." She rubbed the top of his back.
"Madison," he said, stuffing three pieces of bacon into his mouth.
"Would you like something to eat, Madison?" Mrs. Good offered.
"Oh, no thank you, Mrs. Good, I'm fine." She sat down at the dining table, dropping her purse at her feet.
"Chelsea, you hungry?"
"No," I replied, looking at Madison. "I seemed to have lost my appetite."