“Wedding stuff,” Conrad repeated. “So you guys are really doing it?”
“Hell yeah we are.” Jeremiah pulled me back onto his lap. “Right, wifey?”
“Don’t call me wifey,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “Gross.”
Conrad ignored me. “Does that mean Laurel’s changed her mind?” he asked Jere.
“Not yet, but she will,” Jeremiah said, and I didn’t correct him.
I sat perched there for about twenty more seconds before I twisted out of his arms and stood up again. “I’m starving,” I said, leaning down and poking around Conrad’s grocery bag. “Did you buy anything good?”
Conrad gave me his bemused half smile. “No Cheetos or frozen pizza for you in here. Sorry. I got stuff for dinner, though. I’ll cook something for us.”
He got up, took the grocery bag, and went into the house.
For dinner, Conrad made a tomato, basil, and avocado salad, and he grilled chicken breasts. We ate outside on the deck.
With a mouth full of chicken, Jeremiah said, “Wow, I’m impressed. Since when do you cook?”
“Since I’ve been living on my own. This is pretty much all I eat. Chicken. Every day.” Conrad pushed the saladbowl toward me, not looking up. “Did you get enough?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Conrad. This is all really good.”
“Really good,” Jeremiah echoed.
Conrad only shrugged, but the tips of his ears turned pink, and I knew he was pleased.
I poked Jeremiah in the arm with my fork. “You could learn a thing or two.”
He poked me back. “So could you.” He took a big bite of salad before announcing, “Belly’s gonna stay here until the wedding. Is that cool with you, Con?”
I could tell Conrad was surprised, because he didn’t answer right away.
“I won’t be in your way,” I assured him. “I’ll just be doing wedding stuff.”
“It’s fine. I don’t care,” he said.
I looked down at my plate. “Thanks,” I said. So I’d been worried about nothing. Conrad didn’t care if I was there or not. It wasn’t like we would have to hang out with each other. He would do his own thing the way he always did, I would be busy planning the wedding, and Jeremiah would drive up every Friday to help. It would be fine.
After we finished eating dinner, Jeremiah suggested we all go get ice cream for dessert. Conrad declined, saying he would clean up. I said, “The cook shouldn’t have to clean up,” but he said he didn’t mind.
Jere and I went into town, just the two of us. I got a scoop of cookies and cream and a scoop of cookie doughwith sprinkles, in a waffle cone. Jeremiah got rainbow sherbet.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked me as we walked around the boardwalk. “About what happened with your mom?”
“Not really,” I said. “I’d rather just not think about it anymore today.”
Jeremiah nodded. “Whatever you want.”
I changed the subject. “Did you figure out how many people you want to invite?” I asked.
“Yup.” He started to tick names off on his fingers. “Josh, Redbird, Gabe, Alex, Sanchez, Peterson—”
“You can’t invite everyone in your fraternity.”
“They’re my brothers,” he said, looking wounded.
“I thought we said we were keeping it really small.”
