Appearing like a mirage, Tammy and Eamon appeared carrying two plates each. Tammy smiled softly, “By the time you two made it through all the aunts, the food would have been gone. Will you sit and eat with us?”
His stomach rumbled at the scent of food, fully rebelling at the sugar and bitter of that damn drink. Nodding, he accepted a plate and they found a table at the edge of the lawn overlooking the water. For a while, the four of them were alone, enjoying the momentary quiet, the rest of the crowd clustered around the buffet table.
As he was finishing up his salad, another aunt, Gloria, with her husband, appeared and joined them at their isolated table. This one wasn’t as bad. Gloria was Eamon’s spitting image, with the dark curly hair and deep blue eyes, the single dimple. Clearly this is the side Freya got her height and looks from. How many sisters did Eamon have, anyway?
They made small talk for a bit, commenting on the bride’s dress, the energy of the wedding party and their friends. They almost seemed normal.
Her aunt looked to Freya and asked, “How long have you two known each other?”
Chewing her salad for an eternity, Freya nodded as if the simple gesture would answer the question. Nope. Now all eyes stared at the two of them.
Zane took this one, his expression deadpan, “Feels like I’ve known her all my life.”
Hand to her heart, her aunt smiled, “That’s so sweet. Truly. Sometimes you can tell when things are right.” She looked around conspiratorially, “Not to judge, but maybe Lulu should have had the guts to get the hell out before the ceremony like Freya did.”
Tammy slapped her knee she laughed so hard. “You said it, not me. But you’re absolutely right.”
She sipped on a glass of water. Where had she found water? Gloria added to Freya, “I see Del found you. She still talks about how she saved you from a passionless marriage.”
Freya cringed, nodding with her lips pursed tight in disgust.
Tammy rolled her eyes, “Oh boy. Did she say anything?”
Letting a giggle out, Freya bit her lip impishly, “She ogled Zane and pretty much asked what he’s like in the sack.”
Clearing his throat, Eamon looked out on the water. “So, Oliver, you been out fishing yet?”
Oliver winked at his wife before responding. “Not yet. We should buzz over to Joe’s and take him out with us. When do you fly out?”
“Not until late tomorrow.”
A server came around and set a plate of cupcakes on their table. Zane grabbed one and finished it off in two bites, but wished he hadn’t, the aftertaste was ripe with sugar and whatever weird cooking oil they’d used, making his tongue feel like a sweaty block of plywood.
He was about to warn Freya they were awful, but it was too late. Her face scrunched as she finished hers. In the distance, the music changed again and almost sounded appealing for dancing. The bride and her father spun together on an expansive dance floor surrounded by globe lights. The sun set in the distance and the sky began to darken.
Zane stood and held his hand out to ask Freya to join him. She slid her hand into his and rose from the table. Giving a soft wave to the rest of the table, they snuck away.
“One dance before we head up?” He asked as they crossed the lawn.
“Sure,” she grinned.
A server handed them each a glass of champagne and continued to pass out drinks. As they reached the dance floor, typical, the music stopped. A hammy-ass toast from the best man, the maid of honor, the father of the bride… until their champagne was gone. Damn, his head was swimming already, his headache dulled thanks to all the liquor, but tomorrow was going to suck.
As the music started back up again, Freya looped her arms around him and swayed with the hokey tune. “Too much champagne,” she muttered against his chest, slurring a little.
“Exactly what I was thinking. I think that cocktail was…” he trailed off as he lost his train of thought. His chest rattled as laughter threatened. Why was that so funny?
Freya pinched his side, “Are you laughing?”
A loopy giggle bubbled up in his throat. “Apparently,” he slurred. Even his teeth felt numb.
Giggling like the boisterous partiers, she held his hand and spun out for a twirl.
He wound her back in and wrapped his arms around her waist. Her hands laced around the back of his neck, pulling him close and kissing his brains out in the middle of the crowd.
A million tiny lightbulbs flashed on with a thousand ideas all at once as every train of thought that had run through his head over the past month collided in a jumble of contorted metal. Unlocking his lips from Freya’s, he caught his breath. “I’m past slashed.”
She devoured him again in a ravenous kiss, then pulled away. “Stoned off our asses. The drinks or the cupcakes or both, but,” she inhaled slowly and blinked a few times.
