14. Blair
14
Blair
K eeping my promise as Ronnie’s maid of honor, I survey the impressive results of my and Ford’s handiwork and smile at what we’ve put together in such a short amount of time. Not only does the decor fit the theme perfectly, but the tent is alive with laughter and chatter, as everyone seems to be thoroughly enjoying themselves.
Most importantly, Ronnie looks beyond gorgeous in her stunning white wrap dress. Today, I finally see a glimpse of her true and uninhibited self, even if there still seems to be something hidden behind that smile of hers. When you know someone as well and for as long as Ronnie and I have, you can always tell when something is real, genuine, or forced, and while she looks happy, something still feels—off.
I can’t make sense of why she’s placing such high expectations on herself, especially considering today is supposed to be all about her. Everyone here, and in town, absolutely adores Ronnie, and this place is packed to the absolute brim.
I can’t even say that I’m surprised that everyone who was invited said yes and showed up. Ronnie’s dad has been the mayor since we were children. He is so loved and adored, it hadn’t taken much for the town to fall in love with his wife and daughter as well, along with their bright and bubbly personalities. It could definitely be said that Ronnie got her charming and charismatic personality from her parents, and while I gave them ample reason to dislike me growing up, they took me in and treated me like a second daughter.
Her parents are just two amazing people and is likely why everyone always seemed so ready to forgive Ronnie for all the crazy shenanigans we put this town through, and why so many people tolerated me as well. If I was Ronnie-approved, then there must be something redeemable or slightly likable about me.
“May I steal the bride-to-be?” I ask, linking my arm through Ronnie’s. I’ve been watching as she converses with a few of her teacher friends, and while she’s appeared to be less nervous than earlier, it’s still undeniably obvious that something is bugging her. As her maid of honor, I’m obligated to figure out what in the hell is going on so I can fix it as soon as possible. This is her special day and there’s no way I will let it be less than perfect.
“I guess we’ll let you steal her away,” a middle-aged woman agrees with a playful wink as I send her a grateful smile.
“Thank you.” I nod before leading Ronnie away from the small crowd.
“Is everything okay?” she asks, her face maintaining a calm facade, yet the slight tremor in her voice gives away the underlying panic that’s washing over her.
“I should ask you the same thing. You seem…distracted.” The last thing I want is to insult her or make her feel even more on edge, but clearly, something is going on, and I’m not backing off until I get to the bottom of it.
“I just need everything to go perfectly today.”
“And it will, and it is,” I promise, giving her arm a small squeeze as I lead her toward the refreshments.
This is the area I feel most proud of, as the nearby table is filled with charcuterie boards lined with cheese, fruit, and meat, along with some platters of mini caprese skewers. However, the true stars of the show are the desserts that have been made to match the blue and white theme of the wedding: macaroons, cupcakes, Rice Krispie treats, and cake pops.
However, we walk straight past the food as I lead her toward the bar.
“Two Rosy Ronnie Refreshers, please,” I order as Pam, the resident bartender from Timberline Tavern, gets to work.
Living so far away, as the maid of honor, I haven’t felt like I’ve gotten to help or support as much as I’d like. Wanting to surprise her with something unique and different, I took a chance with a signature cocktail in her honor. I’d worked with Pam to create a drink made with elderflower liqueur—giving off light floral notes—with a splash of cranberry and lime for tartness, which, to me, just fits my best friend so perfectly. She’s easily one of the most stunning and beautiful people that you’ll ever meet, but there’s way more to her than that, as she constantly leaves you wondering and guessing what she’ll do or say next.
“Sorry I’m being so weird,” Ronnie apologizes as the two drinks are placed in front of us. “It’s just that Pete’s mom is here, and so are other members of his family from out of town. I’ve always felt like I’m not good enough for her or her son, and the last thing I want is for the rest of his family to think so, too.”
My mouth drops open. “What? You? Not good enough for Pete?” I ask, stunned into silence as I shake my head. “If anyone is not good enough for someone, it’s Pete not being good enough for you.”
“You only say that because you’re my best friend and you have to.”
“No, I say it because I’m your best friend and know you better than anyone else, which means if anybody knows how amazing you are, it’s me. You’re one of a kind, and literally the most interesting and unique person I’ve ever met. If somebody doesn’t agree or see that, then they’re wrong. If anything, his family will see that today and any other time they get to be around you. There’s no way they won’t see how absolutely amazing you are.”
She sighs before lifting her glass and taking a large gulp of her signature drink. “I hope you’re right, I just can’t seem to shake these nerves.”
“Well, I’m obviously here with you, so if you need your wingwoman to pump you up while you go and talk with them, I’m down.”
“Really?” she asks, her face lighting up with hope.
“Of course,” I scoff, dismissing her worries with a small wave. I’d do anything for Ronnie, especially if it’s something as easy as boosting her up. Pretty sure that’s the easiest job I could ever have. “For all we know, you won’t even need me, since they’re likely going to fall in love with you the moment you start talking.”
“Well, I’m not so sure that’s true, but I do think you coming with me will help. If anything, your presence will probably calm me down and prevent me from acting like a complete weirdo.”
“I really don’t think you have anything to worry about, but like I said, I’ll be there the entire time.”
She sends me a grateful smile before lifting her glass to her lips once more, likely for some much-needed liquid courage. “Alright. Let’s do this and get it out of the way so I can finally relax and actually enjoy the rest of my bridal shower.”
I take an amused sip of my own drink before nodding as she leads me toward Mrs. West and the rest of Pete’s family, who’ve all congregated at a table by themselves.
“Hey, everyone,” Ronnie greets them in an exaggeratedly friendly tone. She’s definitely putting on a show and going all out, and I can’t say I don’t understand it. I’d want my future in-laws to like me too. It’s one of the many reasons why I’d be terrified to settle down with anybody in Evergreen Grove. Most everyone already has their opinions when it comes to the Bennett family, and I’m sure they’d be less than pleased to watch their son walk me through their front door. “I wanted to introduce you all to my best friend and maid of honor, Blair.”
Everyone greets me with friendly enough nods and smiles, but when I look at Mrs. West, her expression shows obvious displeasure. It suddenly clicks why Ronnie was so worried.
“Hi.” I wave back before being introduced to Pete’s Grandma Selma, Aunt Wendy, and two cousins, Leslie and Anna.
“I remember you,” Mrs. West acknowledges, her voice lacking any warmth. “You were the girl who seemed to always leave a trail of destruction and mischief wherever you went. Hopefully we don’t have to worry about any of that during the wedding?”
“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. I was a stupid kid back then. I’d also never do anything to mess with Ronnie’s special day.” I warmly smile as I follow Ronnie’s lead and do my best to remain sweet and cordial, despite feeling anything but.
“Ronnie?” Grandma Selma asks.
“Oh, that’s my nickname,” Ronnie explains with an awkward laugh.
Mrs. West shakes her head as she wrinkles her nose. “Oh no. That’s a horrible name for a young woman. I hope you never plan to go by that in public. How would that look for Pete and his political career?”
“It’s mostly just a childhood nickname that my close friends call me,” Ronnie explains further as my brows furrow. Growing up, Ronnie had despised the name Veronica and had insisted that everyone call her Ronnie.
“Good, it’s atrocious. If I were you, I’d insist that everyone stop calling me that immediately, especially if you expect to be taken seriously,” Mrs. West adds with a slight shudder.
“I think it’s a perfect nickname. It’s different and unique, just like our Ronnie here.” I place a hand on her shoulder. “And I don’t think it sounds unprofessional at all. If anything, I think having a nickname makes her more relatable and likable to the masses. Plus, everyone in town already loves Ronnie as she is, no need to change anything about her, including her nickname.”
Perhaps no one speaks back to Mrs. West, because she looks utterly astonished that I would even think about contradicting her advice. “Well, dear, given who your parents are, I’m not surprised that you’d be into a nickname like that. Furthermore, it makes your advice less than credible, so I would have to hope that Veronica would have a better sense of who to listen to here.”
“You don’t need to worry, Mrs. West. I grew up with a family in politics. I know exactly what would be expected of me, and in the circles where it’s needed, I can be more than professional,” Ronnie once again chimes in, clearly trying to keep the peace.
I purse my lips tightly, exerting all my self-control to refrain from unleashing my anger on this woman. If these weren’t Ronnie’s future in-laws and this day weren’t so important, I’d definitely speak my mind, but today isn’t about me, and that’s what I keep reminding myself of. Instead, I lift my glass to my mouth and take a drink.
Mrs. West seems to take notice as she looks me up and down with even more disdain and disapproval. “Let me guess. You were the one who picked out the drink for this afternoon’s event?”
I lift an eyebrow. “Yes. And they seem to be a big hit.”
“Don’t you think it’s a little tacky?” she presses, lifting a brow of her own.
“Aren’t bridal showers in general a bit tacky?” I challenge.
“No. Most events that I’ve attended have been classy and elegant. This one, on the other hand…” she trails off, letting her eyes glance around the backyard.
“Is perfect,” I cut in before she can say anything else and make this even harder on Ronnie. “Everyone is having an amazing time, and like I said, the drinks have been a hit. Just look around, everyone is enjoying them,” I reiterate, especially as I look at Ronnie, who appears to be on the verge of tears.
“Enjoying them or not, alcoholic beverages at an afternoon event are completely inappropriate, and it honestly makes me question your judgment, Veronica,” Mrs. West admonishes.
“I think it’s kind of fun. They’re just drinks, Auntie,” Pete’s cousin, Anna, chimes in.
“Fun or not, this event is not the time or place for day drinking. It’s utterly tasteless,” Mrs. West says, indicating that there’s no changing her mind on the matter.
“I’m sorry you think so, but either way, I hope you can at least try to have a good time. Ronnie here has lots of people who absolutely adore her and are dying to chat with her today, so I hope you’ll excuse us,” I say in an overly sweet tone as I grab Ronnie’s hand and lead her away before anyone can say anything else. I know I probably shouldn’t have used the dreaded nickname that Mrs. West so obviously hates, but I’ve always found it impossible not to fight back when someone pushes me first.
“Ronnie,” I start once we’ve made some distance and I’ve led her away from the small mass of guests. “I’m so sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was make things even worse or harder on you.”
“No,” she begins, shaking her head, “you said what I’ve always wanted to say, but have always been too scared. Nothing I do ever seems to be good enough, and I don’t know what else I can do to make her like me.”
“I would say just be yourself and she’s bound to love you, but for a woman like that, I don’t think there’s any chance of winning,” I huff, looking back over my shoulder at the woman who still seems to be looking at everyone as though they are beneath her. She is clearly one of those overbearing mother-in-law’s who thinks she knows best, but when it comes to Ronnie, she knows absolutely nothing.
“It’s just so hard, especially when she’s someone who’s so close and important to Pete.” She frowns, still pushing back the tears.
“I know, I’m sorry.” I place a hand on her arm. “Just don’t change yourself for her, or anybody. You’re amazing and perfect just the way you are, and I have to imagine anyone that she deems to be good enough is a boring old snob, and that could never be you. You’ve always been someone who was made to stick out and be different. Please don’t ever conform to being someone that she, of all people, wants you to be.”
In many ways, finally meeting Mrs. West and after having spent a night with Ronnie and Pete, so many of the little changes I’ve noticed in my best friend are starting to make a lot more sense, and I can’t say I like it. In fact, I absolutely hate it.
A smile slowly starts to form on her features. “Thanks, Blair bear.”
“I mean it. Don’t let these people change you, alright?”
“I promise,” she assures me with a small nod.
“Now,” I say, dropping my hand before once again linking my arm through hers, “we’re going to spend the rest of this shower having fun and partying with the people who we know love you, alright? No more stressing about the monster-in-law.”
“Alright,” she agrees, as I lead her toward the rest of the bridesmaids, determined to make her forget all about that nasty run-in, while also doing the same for myself.
I can’t exactly tell Ronnie to forget about what Mrs. West said when, unfortunately, my mind can’t help but remember the way she also called me out for my past and for my parents. While I’d held onto the hope that my old reputation would fade away with time, it’s becoming increasingly clear that some people are still unwilling to move on and forget.
Then again, how exactly can I blame them when I’m still just as stuck in the past as they are, not only with my own worries about my reputation, but with Ford’s as well. If anything, I’ve been reminded more than ever that despite wishing to move forward and forget about who you once were, it’s always going to matter, and the last thing I want to do is bring Ford down with me.