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Fiction » Romance » Killing Momzillas font: B s : A A A . width: full 3/4 1/2
Author: Tatiana Moore
Fiction Rated: T - English - Humor/Romance - Reviews: 325 - Published: 11-29-06 - Updated: 02-15-07 - Complete - id:2282188

Epilogue

So, a momzilla nearly destroyed Moo’s wedding afterall.

I flipped to an empty page in the photo album I was working on and sighed. I really wish someone had snapped a picture of Paulina storming off at the reception. I was sure that Moo would have liked that.

Paulina had left bruises on my arm and about a hundred or so new enemies behind as she stormed out of the bar. I wasn’t worried about her threat. She had been threatening me for twenty years and not once had she lived up to a threat. Why would she start now? Caleb had been concerned, but I managed to convince him a few weeks after the wedding, when nothing backfired, that she was just blowing sulfur. I completely regret not chasing after her at the wedding screaming, “MOMZILLA! MOMZILLA!” like I had wanted to. Moo told me that I should have, it would have made a perfect wedding, perfect.

Moo was so excited about her breakthrough with her mother that she was talking about her ability to stand up to her mother even after the honeymoon. I was completely pumped for her; what a relief she must feel to have her fears finally concurred. Still, she wouldn’t trash talk Paulina with me, because she was “still Moo’s mom.” I understood and let the subject drop; we only talked about it when Moo wanted to.

I was actually a little shocked that my mother hadn’t turned into more of a momzilla herself, but then I had spent most of my time dealing with Moo’s wedding and neglecting my own. There’s still time for her scales and talons to emerge. They actually made a sneak appearance at Moo’s wedding reception when she asked me if I was going to keep my last name—per tradition—or take Caleb’s, which was “completely untraditional and against our ways.” I told her I wanted Caleb’s name and she walked off in a huff.

I mean… Ramos-Hood wasn’t cute enough.

Estela Hood. I liked that much better.

Caleb didn’t take offense to my mother’s subtle barb at his “untraditional” name. I guess at the time he had just been happy to have a date to look forward too. I warned him that while we had scaled one mother-lizard, there was still another who was raring its ugly head, and a possible auntzilla as well. He didn’t care.

“Vegas is always an option if things get crazy, Es,” he said.

But weeks after Moo’s wedding and into the preparation of ours, I could see that the constant calls from my aunt, relayed to him by me, were driving him batty. His not-so-subtle comments about Vegas and gambling increased as the weeks turned into months.

My mother married Juan Ortega and became Mrs. Ramos-Ortega on May 3rd. I stood up as her maid-of-honor (she refused a bachelorette party) and watched the judge officiate at the court house in Queens. I was still uncertain about Juan, who whenever he saw me went on and on about adopting me. I didn’t know how to tell him that I didn’t want to be adopted. The General told me to just say that I was honored but I had two fathers and three was a crowd. He almost seemed a little territorial of me when I had brought up the whole adoption thing. For some reason I was thrilled about that.

After the short, professional ceremony, Caleb told me that he might not mind a similar proceeding. I told him he could marry someone else if that’s all he wanted. I wanted the fanfare and the glory of a wedding day. I didn’t want to wear a cream skirt suit with a little church had like my mother had. I know deep down that Caleb wanted a real wedding too—he was just looking for ways to avoid the monsters of meddling parents. He liked to rub it in that his parents were more than happy to take care of our honeymoon and call it a day than deal with the chaotic planning of the wedding.

We were still trying to figure out where to tie the knot, New York, Washington (state), or Vegas. I didn’t know what color I wanted the bridesmaid dresses to be, I didn’t have a dress, we didn’t have a cake, we didn’t have an officiate, we didn’t have a reception hall, and we didn’t have a church. After my mother’s wedding I suggested a road trip to his parent’s house to see the little churches along the way in the hopes that we could get married in between Washington and New York. He said he couldn’t. He had been consumed with a work project that he started right after Moo’s wedding and was still working on now, at the end of May. I had asked him early on if Kat Miller was involved and immediately wished I hadn’t.

With so many wedding arrangements still up the air, I hired Harriet Quinn to help me out. The stress almost automatically lifted up off my chest. Harriet was so easy to work with and didn’t stab at me the way Isabella Madins had. Even though time was slowly ticking down, she hadn’t shown a slight hint of worry. Not even when I asked if we’d even be able to find a chapel and reception hall last minute—she just smiled and made a note in her wedding planner. I liked her patience more than anything because I really couldn’t make a decision. Harriet gave me a task list to complete before June:

Pick a color for the bridesmaids

Pick flowers

Find your wedding gown

Go test cakes

Think about a location for the wedding and reception

I had the list for two weeks, my deadline was a day away, and I still hadn’t thought about any of the items on the list. There were too many colors, too many flowers, too many cakes, too many gowns, and too many locations—it was jut too many. It was hard for me to settle on just one.

I put Moo in charge of my bachelorette party and she enlisted Daisy’s help, and I’ve overheard conversations between Moo and Madame Cherry that worry me. I’m sure I’ll end up with more floating goldfish and a serious complex if my aunt decides to attend to learn something new. I had already been traumatized when Tio danced with me at Moo’s wedding and whispered, “What did you teach your aunt at that party, Butterlips. She makes my head explode in the bedroom now! I may have a heart attack!” I had hid my face against his shoulder until the end of the song and then avoided him for about an hour until he said he was sorry and wouldn’t bring up again. Still I couldn’t look at him—or her—for a long time.

Maybe I could put my foot down and say no more sex lessons at the bachelorette party. But while Moo was visiting one night, I overheard Caleb telling her to go all out for the party.

“I want Es to be well versed in the art of love,” he said seriously. “She’s shy about a lot of things—go all out, okay? She’ll participate as long as her mother and aunt aren’t there.” I watched as Moo burst into laughter, doubling over her big belly, which shook with her mirth. Almost like Santa Clause, I had thought. She was wearing a red and white striped shirt so the imagery was appropriate, I thought. She laughed and promised him a night of titillating excitement and no cloud nine trips to Chinatown.

Moo’s babies (because I still think there are two) are due September 30, and she swears that she’ll still be able to fully participate in my wedding, but Daisy will be there to pick up the slack, and according to Daisy, there is no reason why I shouldn’t have two maids-of-honor anyway. When I told her that Moo was actually my matron-of-honor, she was so excited to be named maid-of honor. Until I told her she would have to walk down the isle with Adam, that is. Daisy politely said that she would gladly be number three on the row and told me to pick someone else to be my maid-of-honor. Maybe Rebecca, she said. She and I laughed for a long time after that.

I wish I could say that she and Adam are getting along better, but they’re not. They fight and bicker whenever they’re together, which Daisy claims is infrequently, but I don’t believe her. After Moo returned from her honeymoon in Fiji, Adam jumped head-first into his new job with the CIA (a job he didn’t talk about—top secret, he said). He was working hard in part to impress Daisy and in part to forget that she was even present and sharing a city with him. Caleb said that we’d just have to put up with them until they figure out they’re perfect for each other and stop fighting it. I don’t know if they’ll stop fighting it though. As long as they get along at my wedding in September, I don’t care if they fight or bicker or sleep together foolishly. As long as they didn’t come crashing into my apartment with tears in their eyes because they were so in love and had no idea how to communicate that to one another. I could only handle so much rebuffed love.

The front door banged noisily bringing my attention up from the photo album I was working on to the door. Caleb walked in and closed the door behind him. My eyes fell to the cap on the top of his head. A few weeks ago he had gotten a disastrous haircut. And though it wasn’t as short as Adam’s, it was short enough to make my mind flub on a couple occasions, and I accidentally called him Adam. To compensate, Caleb had taken to wearing an old Rangers baseball cap and had stopped shaving. He didn’t have a full beard, but he was just scruffy enough to be different from Adam and sexy as hell to me.

“Estela I got your text message about orange bridesmaid dresses,” Caleb called. “I know we’re having a fall wedding, but we don’t have to match the color of dying leaves, babe. And Adam just said that he’d rather die himself than wear an orange bowtie, so I think orange is out and I also think bowties are out. Unless you are serious about both and then maybe we can compromise and get a variant of orange—coral maybe.

“Oh, and I don’t really want Chinese, I thought we could go Italian instead,” he came into the living room and dropped a bag from Cosco onto the couch. “There’s this new place that I want to take you to anyway—Italian sound good? Still working on those albums?”

I was sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table surrounded with photo albums and 4-by-6 pictures from Moo’s wedding, trying my best to organize them. It was the last thing regarding Moo’s wedding that I had to deal with, and I promised him that I’d be done by the time he returned from Cosco. I was still surrounded in a cluttered mess of pictures. He smiled down at me and shook his head.

“I knew you wouldn’t be finished, Es.” He sat down on the sofa and rubbed his palms over the knees of his jeans. “Want to take a break and go eat?”

“Always,” I murmured as I carefully wrote names on the back of a picture before slipping it into the album. “Look, I got this one framed.” I picked up the picture of Caleb and me dancing at Moo’s wedding. I was in his arms and we were both laughing with our eyes closed. I cried when I saw the picture and I cried again when I put it in the frame. “It’s my favorite one—almost better than the picture of us in Milan on that damned scooter.” Caleb smiled and nodded as he took the frame from me. “Let me just freshen up a little,” I pushed myself up off the floor and headed back to our bedroom.

Caleb followed me into the bathroom and pushed himself up on the vanity to watch me change into a button down floral print blouse and a pair of blue jeans. Moo and I had gone shopping right after she returned from Fiji. She bought maternity clothes and I bought size fourteen pants and smaller tops. I was thrilled to have gone down a size and decided that I’d try for a size twelve wedding gown.

“You don’t have to get all fancy,” he laughed lightly as I rooted around in my makeup bag. “The place isn’t five-star or anything, but it’s pretty damn close. I’ve been eating there a lot.” I smiled at him and nodded. His stomach pooch had grown just a little bigger over the past couple months, and he was always talking about these new restaurants he was eating at for lunch. I noticed his slight weight gain long before he did and thought it was cute when I found him staring at his naked body in the mirror one afternoon. He was rubbing his stomach with a slight frown and muttered, “Damn garlic bread,” under his breath. He was so cute!

“Caleb, when do you think you’ll be done with that project of yours?” I asked as I took my brush to my hair. “I sort of want to go visit your parents soon.” I had talked with Audrey on the phone about wedding plans just the other day and found myself missing her and missing Washington. And I wanted to take another roll their hay loft where I lost my virginity on New Year’s Eve about six months ago now. Ah, memories.

“I’m actually finished with that,” he sighed. “And visiting my folks would be nice, maybe we can talk about that over dinner. And we can talk about this orange kick you’re on.”

“I don’t really want orange dresses,” I said. “It was just a thought. I mean it’s not a Halloween wedding or anything. I can’t figure out what color to use though. I think I’m driving Harriet crazy, but it’s a hard decision.”

“Baby, you’re not wearing the dress you know.”

True, but I still wanted my friends to look halfway decent in them. I looked amazing in my yellow gown, I needed to find a color that complemented Moo’s coloring. I wasn’t going to stick them in god awful colors just so that I was the prettiest thing around.

“I know,” I sighed. “Okay, I will make a decision tomorrow.” I said that nearly every day, and every day Caleb did the same thing. He nodded and smiled and probably thought, “Yeah, right.”

I pulled my hair back into a low pony tail and then went to him. Moving between his knees, I looped my arms around his waist and kissed his throat tenderly. Drawing back slightly I pressed my cheek against his and rubbed the soft hairs that he was growing there.

“Come on,” he scooted off the vanity and wrapped his fingers around mine. “I have a surprise for you that I’m really excited about.”

His car was waiting out front for us, which told me that we weren’t going just down the block or we’d have hired a taxi. Why he wanted to brave the traffic was beyond me, but since it wasn’t necessarily a busy time of day traffic-wise, and since I liked being anywhere with him, I didn’t complain and settled comfortably in the passenger’s seat.

“So… I have to say that I’m really glad you’re done with this project,” I said as he pulled into traffic. “I mean, I feel like I haven’t seen much of you lately.”

“Yeah, well… there is a chance that the outcome of this project may make you see less of me during the day, but I think we’ll both benefit in the long run.”

“Benefit from not seeing each other?” I asked. What kind of sense did that make? I had been completely consumed by Moo’s wedding for about three months, then her wedding ended and Caleb picked up his “project” and left me solo for over a month. He swore it wasn’t payback, but part of me wouldn’t be surprised if at least a little bit of it was revenge. “What if I want to see you?”

Caleb smiled at me. “You will. Just wait and see.”

I nodded and flipped on the radio. I pressed each programmed button twice looking for good music, but every station was on a commercial or had the radio hosts talking. I paused on a rock station that Caleb liked when I heard the hosts mentioning the New York University coed murders. I turned up the radio and listened:

“It seriously amazes me that that kid took a plea bargain, I mean really… I think he had a chance of a lesser sentence or something!”

“Hightower right?”

“Right. It was reported today that Brian Hightower, a 22-year-old econ student at NYU pleaded guilty to two of the four murders—um… Blaire Chang and Sashi Boyler—and received 50 years no probation. So this kid is going to get out of jail when he’s 72 years old. Why not just kill him?”

“Allen!”

“No seriously, Pete… what’s a 72-year-old convict going to do for society besides bother some hot nurse who has to change his bed pan every hour. I swear, if he was going to plead guilty—when he probably had a chance for a much lesser sentence if he just turned state’s evidence against Waller—they should just strap him to the chair. I’m all for killing him now. Stupid people sometimes need the needle.”

“You are sick, sadistic, SOB, Allen.”

“No… I’m realistic. Anyway, before we get to a little more bangin’ Areosmith, let me just tell you folks that Gregory Waller’s trial is still moving forward and is set for October sometime. You know, Pete, this guy may actually get off! There’s very little evidence on him. The most he will get is attempted murder which is usually a short jail ride.”

I groaned and changed the station.

The D.A. had just told Moo and I that a jury may possibly find Gregory Waller not guilty. The prosecution had literally no evidence that Gregory had killed those women, or ordered Brian to kill those women. Brian hadn’t taped his conversations with Waller; he just did his bidding, like a sick, desperate puppet. I still couldn’t believe that he killed them because Waller promised him a shot at Olive, who was engaged to Christian Waller. Why did men go to crazy stunts to get their way?

My testimony would only help solidify an attempted murder case since it had been Brian’s bullet that killed Sashi, the D.A. said. I’m not sure how Brian was tied to Blaire, but that left Maggie Shwartz and Clare MacKenzie without a killer, and that wasn’t fair. I was coming to a decision that I really didn’t want to hear about the murders anymore. It was sad that Gregory may go free, but there was really little more I could do without getting my nose caught in everything again. I had a promise to keep.

“Why do evil people go free?” I murmured quietly. “Everyone knows Waller did it.”

“He won’t go free Es, I swear. Okay, we’re here.”

I glanced out the window. He had brought me to the Chelesa Gallery District; I recognized a gallery across the street from us. I had been there only a few times in the past, mostly with Moo who loved to visit the galleries and the clothing shops scattered between the art galleries and photo studios. I saw Montegelio’s Italian Cuisine across the street as well and was happy to be somewhat familiar with it. I think I ate there with Moo once.

Caleb turned off the car and unbuckled his seat belt. I did the same and pushed my door open. Stepping onto the curb, I hoisted myself out of the car and closed the door. Checking my reflection in the gallery window in front of me, I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and then glanced at the logo embossed on the double glass doors of the building. My heart caught in my chest.

C. Hood Studios.

I stepped forward uncertainly—did it really say C. Hood Studios? Turning back around, I found Caleb leaning against the truck of the car smiling at me. I pointed to the doors and he nodded and pushed off the trunk and approached me.

“What is this?” I asked as he took me into his arms.

“It’s my new studio.” He whispered against my forehead. He kissed me softly, the hairs on his chin tickling my skin as he brushed another kiss to my cheek. “Come on.”

Taking my hand he pulled me toward the doors, which he unlocked with a key on his keychain. He pushed and held the door open so I could slip inside. I was overwhelmed by the sheer size of the building, which he said was once an old art gallery. To my left there was a reception desk and a massive salt-water fish tank that reminded me of Finding Nemo. To my right there was a beautiful waiting room with leather sofas and chairs, and dark-stained end tables and a coffee table covered with magazines and copies of Caleb’s portfolio. In the waiting area there were framed photographs of his work on the walls, displayed with beautiful lighting, like an art gallery. Further into the studio there was a large open area with a green screen back drop, a white back drop, and dozens of lights. Just beyond that there was an out door area which was still pretty torn up as if it was being transformed into some magical little garden.

Turning around from where I was standing on the set with the white backdrop, I looked at Caleb. He smiled as he came to me slowly.

“This is your project?” I asked softly.

“Yeah,” he smiled and moved forward. “Yeah, I’ve been going non-stop lately. The garden in the back isn’t done yet. I’m waiting for plants and stone slabs to come in. The slabs are from Milan—I wish it was finished now, but it will be in a few weeks.”

I smiled and pointed to the black spiral staircase in the corner. Together we climbed the stairs to the upper loft which had been converted to a make-up room complete with individual changing areas. The other half of the loft was a large office. The moment I walked through the door I started to laugh. Above his desk was a huge blown up picture of he and I dancing at Moo’s wedding—the same picture I had just put in a frame back at our apartment.

“Yeah, I thought that was funny too—we both liked the same picture,” Caleb brushed his hand over the small of my back as he passed me on the way to his desk. The office was great. There was a leather couch and easy chair, a conference table, a private bathroom, and a little break area complete with a refrigerator, microwave, and sink. “Do you like it Es?”

“Caleb, this place is amazing—it’s great.” I went to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. “But what’s wrong with your studio at home?”

“The fact that it’s at home,” Caleb answered softly. “I don’t want to bring work home anymore because of what happened that one time with Kat Miller.” He cupped my cheeks as I scowled at the mention her stupid name. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable when and if I work with her. And I will have to work with her, since she’s so huge now. Not too often, but every once and a while I’m sure.”

Still scowling, I muttered, “I wish she’d die.”

“Stop it,” Caleb laughed. “Don’t talk that way. I know you don’t like her, but what if something happens—you’d regret that comment.”

No, I don’t think I would actually, I thought.

“Besides, she’s pointless to think about, Estela,” his hands moved down over my bottom as he drew me closer. “Anyway, I’m thinking of branching out, doing a little more work that’s less fashion related. Maybe portraits and stuff… I may take on a few other photographers as well. Oscar wants to learn, so that should be interesting. He’s been really excited about this place. He decorated the whole thing, chose the colors, the furniture, the other accessories that I could care less about.”

“He did a good job.” I ran my hands up and down his chest. “What about the studio at home?”

“I don’t know yet—we can have it changed back into two bedrooms, we could do so much with it,” he glanced around for a moment. “Or we could sell the apartment and move—the possibilities are endless. So… you like it?”

“I love it,” I nodded. “Good job, honey.”

“Thanks,” he sighed and ran his hands up and down my arms. “So… want to help me break in the place?” I felt my face flush at his question and laughed when I saw that his green eyes had become a little darker. They swept slowly up and down my body. “Desk or couch, you choose.”

I laughed and glanced at the huge mahogany desk and then at the soft, leather sofa. Blushing I nodded to the desk. He began stepping backwards toward the desk drawing me with him. The closer we were the more the butterflies jumped around in my stomach. He drew me around the desk and pushed the wireless keyboard to the side. I laughed as gestured for me to scoot back.

“This is silly, I don’t know why I’m feeling shy right now,” I murmured as his fingers slowly began undoing the buttons on my blouse.

“It’s a new place for us,” Caleb whispered. “My heart is going crazy right now too.” His fingers trembled as they lightly brushed over the top of my breast. My body tightened sharply and I shuddered. I watched him unbutton me and then turned my eyes to his. He smiled and then laughed. “This is weird huh?” his fingers came up to my shoulders where he gently drew my blouse off. It slid down my arms and caught at my bent elbows. “Almost… naughty...”

“Madame Cherry would be proud.” I pulled my arm from the sleeve. Caleb tossed my shirt over his computer monitor and smiled just before dragging my bottom across the desk so that we were pressed together.

“Did you lock the front door?” I whispered just before his kissed me.

“Yes, I think.” His hands brought mine to the waistband of his jeans. “Quit talking.”

Laughing, I untucked his shirt and brought my hands to his stomach. Our eyes met as he sharply breathed in at my touch. I ran my hands up his chest and stopped over his heart, which was thudding against my palm in a quick beat. And I know it was corny, but staring at him now, watching his green eyes flicker, watching the color in them change with the beat of his heart, I settled on a color for my bridesmaids dresses.

“I think I’d like green bridesmaid dresses,” I said after nibbling his lower lip and dragging my fingers down over his stomach. “Sort of… hunter green maybe? Or maybe a pretty emerald color? No, Jade! Yes, jade, I think. Or…”

“That’s great, I’m glad you made a decision.” He patted my hands. “Let’s talk about it later.”

I smiled at his impatience. He was so cute when he wanted something—namely me. I let my sandals fall off my feet and linked my ankles around the back of his knees.

“Do you think Adam will like….” He silenced me with a kiss that made my toes curl and made me forget all about jade bridesmaid dresses. I pulled his shirt over his head and tried to toss it over my shoulder in a very sexy, dramatic way. Sexy it was not, as I smacked him in the jaw. We laughed for a long time before he sat down in his big leather desk chair and drew me onto his lap.

“I love you, Es.” He whispered as our giggles subsided.

“I love you too.” I ran my hands down his chest and touched the button of his jeans. Maybe now was a good time to practice what I had learned at Moo’s bachelorette party? I wondered. The look in his eyes made me tremble with anticipation. God, I loved this man.


A/N: Well... this is technically the end of Killing Momzillas! I was going to thank all who reviewed by name, but there are just so many, so I wanted to say a collective THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed, especially the new people this last chapter. I appreciate it :o). This has been fun to write and I think it's probably a little better written than the other books. Book 4 (coming soon!) will probably be the best one... and possibly the last one, if I can't tie up everything. I don't know... it'll be hard to stop writing Es and Moo though. Luckily I have ideas for Daisy and Adam's story (not a series, just a single story), and who knows, maybe someone else in the series is deserving of a story. I'd do Madame C, but... I don't know THAT much about her profession. LOL... and any research on it would be--interesting.

Anyways... I'd love to hear overall comments from people on this last chapter. Kind of a summary of everything, things you liked, things you didn't, things that dragged. Your comments will be very helpful! I know that "momzillas" (plural) really didn't come into play too much, but I can always add more crazy Marianna Ramos during editing... I just want to hear what you think. SO... thanks so much! See you soon with KM4... and by soon, probably in a day or so... or maybe sooner. I always say a few days but come out with chapters the next day... I guess I'll see where inspiration lies. BIG HUGS! BIG THANK YOUS! Ya'll are the best!

Completed: Feb 15, 2007.



© Copyright 2006 Tatiana Moore (FictionPress ID:535503).


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