Chapter 2
Romeo
Don’t you just love a wedding?
Well, I do. I kind of have to. I live and breathe nuptials on the daily anyway, but this one is extra super duper special.
Which is why I’ve got an enormous pink peony clamped between my teeth as I consider another bouquet design.
There are several little sticky notes inscribed with guests’ names attached to various fingers as I rearrange the seating plan yet again.
Glitter is in my hair. On my laptop, a spreadsheet lies open as I try to budget for a last-minute violinist, and on my phone, I’ve been trying to map the best route from the airport to the hotel venue.
The song I’ve got on loop is what the bride and bridesmaids are going to be walking down the aisle to.
I’m supposed to be working out the cues for all of them, but I keep getting distracted, so I let it play again for what’s probably the forty-second time in a row.
I’ve sampled so many forkfuls of cake I’m feeling slightly queasy.
Regardless of where I look, all I see is confetti and canapés, and no other colors exist anymore other than blush, flamingo, and fuchsia pinks.
This is my idea of heaven.
“RO!”
I startle at the voice that shouts over the music, spinning around to see my sister in her pajamas, holding out a martini glass filled with vodka and pink lemonade.
I spit out the peony.
“Bee!” I squeal as if I’m surprised to see her.
Like this isn’t her house and she hasn’t been planning with me for the past several hours.
Ignoring the sticky tabs on my fingertips, I excitedly take my drink from her and swallow a hefty gulp, washing away the taste of frosting and plant stems. “I think it’s all finally coming together! ”
She quirks an eyebrow and looks around at the disaster zone I’ve made of her living room.
Okay, so I can be self-aware if I want to.
Normally, I just ignore the chaos unfurling around me and carry on regardless, and that works out just fine for me.
But there’s no pretending that I’m in control of anything right now.
That’s all just part of the fun, though.
“Ro, the only thing coming together are the worry lines on your forehead,” my very rude big sister tells me sardonically.
I’d be horrified, except ya girl already got a head start on Botox last year, so I know for a fact that my face is wrinkle-free and that’s the way I intend to keep it.
“Come on, we don’t have to solve every problem tonight. The wedding is still weeks away.”
“But this is my gift to you!” I protest. “I want you and Isaac to have the most magical day ever!”
She sighs patiently and starts peeling off the sticky notes from my fingers, placing them back on the table plan.
“And I love you for that, baby brother. But we’re also supposed to be having a little fun tonight that isn’t the organized kind.
Working all these doubles is kicking my ass, and I’m going to enjoy having tonight and tomorrow off if it kills me.
Come. Sit and chill with me. I promise all your spreadsheets and color schemes will be waiting for you when you return. ”
Now I’ve had a drink—or should I say another drink because my sis is a very, good host—I can feel the buzz in my veins. As much as I don’t want to rest until all of Beatrice’s dreams become a reality, the idea of stopping and just hanging out for a bit sounds awesome.
“Okay,” I concede. “But only because you’re the bride and still want to talk about what we’re doing with your hair.”
She flops onto her couch and waves a hand at me before picking up her own cocktail from the coffee table. “I will talk about whatever you want so long as you take this damn track off repeat. I hate it now!”
I snort and grab my phone to switch to a playlist I know she’ll like. “It’s your favorite song of all time. You could never be sick of it.”
She rolls her eyes and then sags in relief as some old school Whitney takes over the speakers. “Favorite or not, I don’t need it a thousand times in a row. Once we figure out the cues, I’m putting a ban on it until the wedding. Understood?”
I grin and salute at her, secretly betting that she’ll have it on again before tomorrow’s through. But then my nerves come flooding back in and I bite my lip. See, this is why doing six different jobs at once was necessary. It kept my mind too busy to fret.
“You’re happy with everything, though, right?
” I hear the neediness in my voice but I’m unable to do anything about it.
The fear is real. “I know we agreed that I’d take the reins as you’re so busy at the hospital, and wedding planning isn’t so much a chore as a vay cay in Disneyland for me.
But I am aware it’s your day. I want everything to be perfect and fabulous and just the way that you and Isaac want it. ”
“Romeo,” Bee says, squeezing my knee. She’s using my full name.
She must be serious. “You’re doing an incredible job.
I love it. But you don’t have to do everything by yourself.
It’s not your responsibility to make sure literally every single guest has the best time by micro-managing down to the last rose petal. ”
I frown at her. “It kind of is my responsibility, though.”
She shakes her head, making her curls bounce. “Some things are going to be out of your control, and that’s okay. It won’t make me think you don’t love me, all right? I’m just worried you’re putting too much pressure on yourself.”
An uncomfortable feeling whispers through me.
It’s not the first time she’s said something like that to me, even before she got engaged.
But I like making people happy and I’m really good at all this shit.
So why wouldn’t I use my superpowers for good?
Is it so wrong to want to make people happy?
And this is so much bigger and better than organizing any of my birthdays.
I always thought that my thirtieth was going to be my wildest extravaganza, but I’m honestly not sure how I’m going to be able to top this wedding.
“I could never think you didn’t love me,” I tell her truthfully. “And bringing your dream day to life is just me showing how much I love you. Even if I look a little frazzled, I can assure you that I’m having a ball with all this.”
I wiggle my fingers to illustrate all the projects currently exploded over her living room.
Seriously, I think it’s probably a good thing that Isaac is away for a conference right now.
When us Quincy siblings get on a mission, it’s best to just leave us to it, undisturbed.
Luckily, Bee’s fiancé is a walking green flag and is always happy so long as his queen is content, so I’m not concerned he’s going to be horrified with all our plans.
My sister has given me so much over the years. She’s the most important person in the whole world to me. I just want everything to be perfect for her.
As perfect as it can be under the circumstances.
“Hey,” she says softly, rubbing my knee. “What’s that face for?”
I realize in horror that I’ve let my gaze drift and my smile fade.
So I perk up immediately, like the state-championship winning cheerleader I once was.
“I have many faces, baby girl. You’ll have to be more specific.
” I wink and take another sip of my drink, but I can see the sadness lingering in her eyes.
I hate it. My sister is far too brilliant and beautiful to ever look like that. It should be illegal.
Which probably means I’m the one who should be put in jail.
“It’s not your fault,” she says seriously, doing that annoying thing she’s done my whole life where she can apparently read my mind.
“Well, it is,” I say flippantly with a shrug and a grin. “But that’s why I’m making it up to you by planning the best wedding Redwood Bay has ever seen!”
Beatrice takes a breath before putting her own cocktail back down on the coffee table. She then plucks mine from my hand as well, setting it carefully on a coaster by hers before interlacing our fingers.
“I need you to listen to me right now,” she says, her eyes searching mine.
“Because it’s going to be hard to hear. I’m not saying this to hurt you.
I’m trying to be kind. But…you could organize the best wedding in the history of weddings…
and Mom and Dad still wouldn’t come. And that’s okay!
Because I don’t want them there! They made me choose between them and you, and it upsets me even more that they believed I would choose anything other than you.
They’re hurting their own feelings, so if the situation is anyone’s fault, it’s theirs. Okay?”
I lick my lips and try and muster a cheeky grin to mask how I’m feeling. That usually works. But the pain is too raw. The injustice is too great.
“If I wasn’t gay, though…” I murmur, trying to mount a pitiful defense. However, Bee shakes her head fiercely and scowls at me.
“You might as well argue that if you hadn’t been born then they’d be coming to my wedding. But they’d still be shitty bigots, Ro. And only awesome people are invited to this party.”
Despite my best efforts, a tiny sob escapes my chest. Bee’s lip wobbles and she throws her arms around me for a tight hug.
“Thank you,” I mumble.
She squeezes me harder. “A world without Romeo Quincy would be dull as fuck,” she says thickly. “Don’t let anyone ever dampen your sparkle, baby bro. Not even them.”
For a few moments, we just cling to each other, tears quietly dripping down our faces onto our matching pink jammies. Then Bee obviously decides that’s enough moping and releases me with a dramatic inhalation, then exhales like she’s banishing all the bad juju from the apartment.
“A toast!” she declares, grabbing our drinks and handing mine back to me. We hold them aloft. “To the best brother-sister duo in the whole world! We’re all the family we need.”