Dave raises his glass with a grin. “Here’s to fate doing what fate does best—and to marrying the one who makes all the chaos make sense.”
We clink glasses. The drink burns, perfect and familiar.
I glance over at Magnolia, glowing under the amber light, and a thought pops into my head: this could be the last time we’ll do this before there’s a baby onboard.
I want to memorize every second.
We lucked out—it’s Retro Rhythms Night: ’70s, ’80s, and ’90s on shuffle. Magnolia lights up like someone who hit play on her soul’s personal soundtrack.
She grabs my hand and I spin her around. “You and your weird music,” I say as we make our way to the table where Elias and Violet are waiting.
She gives me a mock gasp. “Weird? This is a cultural treasure.”
“Is it now?”
She tips her head, eyes narrowed in playful challenge. “You love it. Admit it.”
I pause for a beat and lean in. “Yeah, all right—I do. But only because you love it and I love you.”
That earns me a smile that could melt concrete.
We reach the table as Elias leans in and kisses the side of Violet’s neck. She leans in, smiling, and notices us. “Oh look, the Sebrings have arrived.”
We slip into the booth, drinks in hand.
“Found it without too much trouble?” I ask.
Elias chuckles. “Eventually. This place doesn’t want to be found—but I like it.”
Violet scans the room with approval. “It’s moody in the best way.”
Magnolia nudges me. “This is where we met face-to-face for the first time. Right over there.”
Violet’s eyes widen. “Get out—this is the bar?”
Magnolia looks at me, eyes sparkling. “It is. Brings back memories.”
I reach for her hand under the table, giving it a squeeze. “Sure does.”
Violet exchanges a glance with Elias. “Thank God for their meet-cute at this place. If they hadn’t met here, you and I wouldn’t know each other. I’d be on a date with some guy from Tinder whose idea of romance is Venmo-ing me for half the Uber.”
Elias leans in, placing his forehead against Violet’s. “Fate’s a funny thing. That night started their story and also set ours in motion.”
Wow. My brother is in love––as in quoting-fate-and-touching-foreheads in love. I’m not sure what surprises me more—the tenderness I see in him or the fact that Violet’s letting anyone get that close without a sarcastic retort.
I shoot Elias a sideways grin. “Okay, lovebirds. Calm down.”
We finish the last of our drinks, and Magnolia’s practically vibrating beside me when the next song comes on. “‘Self Control’ by Laura Branigan––one of my favorites.”
The music is funky, familiar, pure ’80s gold. Very Magnolia.
“We have to dance.” She takes my hand, pulling me up from my seat. “C’mon, husband. You didn’t marry a wallflower.”
I go with it, laughing as I look back at Elias. “You two coming, or what?”
He grins. “Right behind you.”
We lose ourselves in the music—all of us, no choreography, only rhythm and joy and a night we won’t soon forget.
