Ava #2
“Ava? Are you okay?”
Eric’s voice startles me, sucking me out of memories I wish I could wallow in. They come less frequently than they used to, and I live in fear of losing them forever at some point.
“Ava?”
I glance up at him, embarrassed to realize he’s stopped moving and is looking at me with concern.
“I… I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t.”
The rest of the wedding party, including the bride and groom, are looking at us, wondering why we aren’t dancing the way we’re supposed to.
“Let’s get a drink,” Eric says.
“But the dance…”
“Screw the dance.” He takes me by the hand and leads me to one of five bars strategically positioned around the massive ballroom. “What’s your pleasure?”
“Just ice water, please.”
He orders my water along with bourbon for himself. “Let’s get some air.”
We take our drinks to a balcony where the warm June breeze is a welcome relief after the stifling ballroom.
“Did I screw up by saying you’re pretty?”
“No, of course not.” I’m mortified by the episode. Right when I think I’m regaining my footing, a memory of John appears to show me otherwise. Sometimes I think I’m no further along on this journey than I was the day he left.
“Well, just for the record, you are very pretty. More than that, really. Gorgeous is a far better word. That was my first thought when I met you at the rehearsal.”
“Thank you.” He’s flirting with me, and I’m so out of practice, I have no idea how to respond.
“You’re sure you’re okay?”
“I’m better now. It was hot in there.”
“Yes, it was. Camille said you just moved back to New York from San Diego. What’d you do out there?”
Fell in love with the most extraordinary man who disappeared from my life five years ago. “I… I worked in PR.”
“Is that right? Julianne is in PR. She knows everyone. I bet she can help you find a new job. If you’re looking, that is.”
“I am, and that’d be great. I have feelers out all over the city, but I have a feeling it’s more about who you know than what you know here.
” My goal is to live and work in the city so I can get out of my parents’ house in Purchase as soon as possible.
After one month at home, I already know I’ve been gone too long to go back to living at home long-term.
My parents are lovely, and they mean well, but they dote on me like I’m twelve rather than twenty-eight, and I’m wounded enough that it would be easy to let them take care of me indefinitely.
“We’ll set you up.”
He says that with the easy confidence of a man with connections. As the son of the governor, he’s probably fat with connections, and I’m not above taking advantage of who his family knows to jumpstart my life in New York City.
After a few minutes outside, we rejoin the party.
We’re seated together at the head table, where we enjoy a delicious meal of tenderloin and shrimp.
Eric entertains me with hilarious stories about growing up Tilden and how their parents had to ban practical jokes between the siblings out of fear of them burning the house down.
Despite the crowded room and the revelry all around us, in some ways I feel like we’re on a date by ourselves.
He gives me his full attention, except when someone comes up to say hello to him.
Then he introduces me as Camille’s sister, Ava, and includes me in the conversation.
He’s charming and fun and funny and handsome, and I’m not sure if it’s him or the champagne that has me slightly dazzled, but whatever it is, I’m having more fun than I’ve had in years.
Mimi, the wedding planner, shows up after dinner with a cordless microphone that she hands to Eric. “You’re on.”
“Oh crap,” he says to me. “I forgot I have to make a speech. What should I say?”
“Seriously?”
“Nah,” he says, chuckling at my horrified expression. “I got this.”
He stands and loudly clears his throat into the microphone.
“If I could have your attention, please.” When the room goes quiet, he says, “This is the part of the program where the best man is supposed to humiliate the groom with embarrassing stories that make the bride wonder what the hell she was thinking marrying such a jerk.”
Laughter ripples through the big room as Rob glares at him.
“Sadly for me and the rest of you, Rob doesn’t do embarrassing things.
I know… It’s not fair and sort of wrong that someone could live to be thirty-two without a truly embarrassing story to his name.
But that’s our Rob. Focused, brilliant and, despite a startling lack of flaws, fun to be around.
And from all accounts, he’s found in Camille someone who’s just like him.
” Sobering, he says, “Rob, we’ve been together a long time. ”
More laughter follows that statement.
“And even though you’re only five minutes older than me, you’ve been an awesome big brother and best friend. I love you, and on behalf of everyone here, I wish you and Camille the best of everything. Congratulations.”
Rob stands to hug his brother while everyone else applauds.
Watching them together makes me feel emotional, which is odd because I’d never met either of them before two days ago. Still, their obvious affection for each other—and the multiple glasses of champagne I’ve consumed—made it a sweet moment to witness.
“Your turn,” Eric says, handing me the mic.
Taking the mic from him, I stand and wobble ever so slightly, cursing the champagne.
Eric’s hand on my back steadies me. I give him a grateful smile. “Unlike Rob,” I say into the mic, “Camille had an awkward stage.”
My sister groans, laughs and drops her face into her hands as her husband puts his arm around her.
“She got a big idea to cut her hair super short right before middle school started. That was an unfortunate decision. She was also the girl who’d come out of the restroom in a restaurant with a trail of toilet paper attached to her foot.”
“No!” Camille cried. “You did not just mention the toilet paper on my wedding day!”
“That’s all I’ve got,” I reply. “Like your husband, you’re too freaking perfect and obviously perfectly matched to each other. We can only hope that the six children you’re sure to have will be high achievers like their parents.”
“Ain’t nobody having six kids,” Camille says, cracking everyone up.
“I just want to say that you’re a wonderful little sister and friend. I love you, and I wish you and Rob a lifetime of the kind of joy and happiness you’re feeling today.”
“Hear, hear.” Eric raises his glass to the bride and groom, who’re indulging in yet another passionate kiss.
“And,” I say, before surrendering the mic, “on behalf of the entire wedding party, I’d like to add one more thing… Get a room. Please, get a room.”
The comment, fueled by champagne, is met with wild applause from the rest of the wedding party.
“Got one,” Rob says with a dirty grin when the ruckus dies down. “Gonna use the hell out of it later.”
“Shut up, Rob!” Camille cries, punching his chest.
That leads to more kissing.
“Booze,” Eric says, standing. “We need more booze.”
“Take me with you. Please, take me with you.”
“You got it.”