Studying my face, he responds slowly, dragging the words out in uncertainty, “You’re… sure?”
I nod. “Definitely. Consider it making us even.”
Visibly lost, he agrees. Kind of. At the very least, he doesn’tdisagree, which I take as its own sort of agreement.
I step away to bring us back to our regularly scheduled programming. “And you’re not getting paid past cost for your time, Mr.Volunteer. Ruby and Will might be insane, but I’m not. I’ll save them this money so they can put it toward retirement.” My eyes stray to the ceiling as my head tilts. “Or a pool. With a lazy river. And a slide.” Mmm, yep. That one. Me and Ruby floating around her backyard oasis in the middle of summer, not a care in the world? Sign merightup.
Roman’s mouth opens, closes, then opens again. “I’ll need to pay catering staff,” he says finally.
I wave that away. “Obviously. We’re not stiffing service workers. They’re kin. Brethren. One with us.”
He stares at me for several long,longmoments, then his head falls back, and his chest heaves with a sigh. His hands land on his hips. “It’s fine,” he mutters to the ceiling. “This is compromise. You’re going to take the compromise, and you’re going to not say a single word about the fact thatyouare a service worker, and her convictions about how they should be treated clearly do not transfer that far. You will not argue. You will be the bigger person.” He groans, and his head drops to face at the floor instead, one hand reaching up to run over his short-cropped hair. “Youarethe bigger person,” he tells the floor. “Justbeit.”
What a freaking drama queen—and when I was being nice!
“Are you done?” I huff. “Because I have other things I need to be doing.”
His head lifts, blue eyes flashing with barely controlled annoyance. “I’m done,” he answers. “And I’m going to make dinner. Stay out of the kitchen. Unless it’s to drop a tip off. You know, should your convictions change.”
“My convictions are firmly in place,” I assure him, stretching my mouth into a semblance of a smile. Sure, it’s got a lot of tooth going on, but it’s notmyfault if his caveman brain takes that as a threat, is it?
He glares at my mouth for a solid ten seconds, grunts, then sweeps past me to the kitchen. “Just stay out,” he grumbles.
I shrug. Can do. It’s not like Iwantto be in there with him.
Returning to my spot on the couch, I pull a soft, supremely comfortable green throw blanket over me and get cozy while I send out one last email.
For everyone,
Thank you guys for your cooperation in the chaos here! I’llcontact the vendors I need to and send out an update next week, letting you all know when you’re needed and where.
So far I’ve got Ruby on DJ, Liam and Brian on C&C, and Roman on food.
I’m so excited to be celebrating Ruby and Will with you all, and I look forward to meeting some of you in person! Please let me know if you have any questions or need anything at all. I’m just an email away!
Thrilled!!
Elodie Sage, The One and Only Maid of Honor
Several people respond, ranging from a thumbs-up emoji to a heartfelt ten-paragraph monologue about the different types of cubby systems used in a mailroom. Roman replies to clarify what “food” means. Will sends a series of emojis that I think are meant to depict a nursery rhyme about getting married and having babies. Ruby sends an eye-roll emoji, quickly followed by a heart.
A sense of accomplishment tingles in my chest, spreading slow and sweet through my veins until I’m filled with it. It’s cold, like a winter morning, breathing fresh air into my lungs and making me wonder if I’ve ever truly breathed before. Never as victoriously as this, I’m sure.
I did it. I successfully began the planning of my best friend’s wedding, with only a minor Roman-shaped snag. Two months, schmoo months. I’mdoingthis. Icando this.
The frigid taste of my achievement coats my tongue, and I smile.
I can do this.
Chapter Six
Family bonding looks different for everyone.
Elodie
My phone rings in my ear as I paste another wedding dress onto the collage in front of me, squishing the mermaid gown between a huge, princessy contraption and a sleek, timeless sheath dress. Ruby isn’t likely to wear any of these dresses, and she’s definitely never going to see this scrapbook I’m making—partially because she can’t see, and partially because I would rather die than admit that I considered putting her in a big, poofy, frilly dress—but it’s a fun exercise anyway, and a nice way to relax. Not that I havetimeto relax, but whatever. My homework can wait an hour.
“Hello?” the soft voice of my favorite cousin crackles through the line.
