And Tobin, too. We gave our families that power, and, no surprise, they used it.
“I could’ve let it roll off my back. Chalked it up to an unhappy person on their worst day and moved on. I didn’t do that. But you could.”
Béa takes a long, shaky breath. I belatedly notice her bridesmaids gathered around, drinking from the fountain of drama.
Now feels like a good time to sink into a crevasse.
“Your sister did that on yourwedding day? Liz, I will murder a bitch.” Béa’s voice regains its power.
A shocked laugh pushes past my lips. “No murder while you’re wearing white, okay?”
“Nothing that happens today will be as bad asthat. I’m sorry, but that’s the truth,” Béa says, slashing the air with one manicured hand. The bridesmaids nod, adding words of agreement like “impossible” and “I would die.” Sharon whips her phone from her bottomless purse, possibly to google emergency therapy services.
Wait. Sharon’s purse. Her lettering.
“Sharon, do you have a pen in there? Like a waterproof marker, maybe?”
“I have an anti-forgery pen with non-dissolvable ink,” she says, reaching for a pocket without looking.
“I knew you would. Béa, hold out your hand. What style of lettering do you like?”
Béa clenches her hand against her bodice. “What’s this?”
“Insurance.”
Chapter Nineteen
Improvisers should learn to be “obvious,” because then things will happen.… Being “obvious” means being your own person, not somebody else’s.
—Impro for Storytellers
This is the best wedding I’ve ever been to.
Pictures of Béa’s hand withStéphaneinked down her palm and onto her ring finger are already hitting social media, along with stories of how her aunt nailed the groom’s name (with the help of Béa’s cheat note), then flopped spectacularly with, “Brigitte… Bernadette… Bijou…Tabarnak!”
The entire hall did a collective intake of breath, letting it out on a peal of laughter from the glowing bride.
It’s been a sweet blur of quite reasonable house white—though I switched to club soda after two glasses; I won’t be nervously overdoing it tonight—emotional speeches, and most surprising of all, great conversations. And not even with anyone I know. Béa’sbusy with her guests; Sharon and McHuge are deep in conversation, passing McHuge’s phone back and forth.
I haven’t talked to Tobin since dinner, but I don’t need to worry about him. We stuck together at parties because I needed him, not the other way around. He can have fun mingling for once; I can give him that gift.
Meanwhile, I’m working this wedding like a walking question machine, asking everybody every deep, intimate, strange thing that pops into my head.
I didn’t realize how much energy I’ve been using for worry. Fretting about whether I talked too little, or too much. Overthinking what to say and when to say it, then realizing the moment to speak had passed me by.
But this wedding is like the best of improv. I’m in the moment, connected to other players, in a McHuge-like flow state. Maybe it was a matter of finding the people who’d give me a “yes, and,” instead of finding a different person inside myself.
Béa’s aunt Jacqueline, a sixty-ish white woman, tells me about the weirdest trip she ever took, which involved stealing the wrong goat and waiting out a thunderstorm in an abandoned barn with Béa’s uncle (owner of said goat).
“Everyone thinks it’s romantic,” Jacqueline booms, the apples in her cheeks expanding with the warmth of the room and the wine. She has the most infectious laugh, which must come in handy after blaspheming in the middle of a wedding ceremony. I should get myself a laugh like that, all loose and inviting, to deploy when I make mistakes.
“Take it from me, getting naked in a hayloft was a terrible idea, all three times. But young love. You and your man would do the same.” She nods at our table, where Tobin’s chilling on his own.
Funny. That’s not like him.
The tinkling of knives on glassware announces the bride’sspeech. Béa’s aunt winks, pops the last piece of someone else’s torte in her mouth, and vanishes back to her seat before I can agree.
The bride stands.“Ma famille. Mes amis.”The room hushes; Béa beams.
