Chapter 5 #2
Lara’s name had been placed near the head table, between Noah’s cousin Andrea and one of his college friends.
That made sense. Lara knew his people.
Ella’s own friend Tasha was at table nine with two of Noah’s coworkers she had never met.
That made less sense.
“I thought Tasha was with Carolina’s table,” Ella said.
Margaret reached for her glasses. “Was she? Lara thought she’d know the work group.”
“She met Daniel at the engagement party,” Lara said. “They talked about nonprofit boards for half an hour, so I thought they might be a good fit. But obviously move her anywhere.”
Ella looked at the chart.
She did remember Tasha talking to Daniel. She had forgotten his name. Lara apparently had not.
“It’s just a draft,” Noah said.
Ella glanced at him.
He looked open.
Maybe he had learned that from the date, from the conversation. Maybe he could feel the table the way she did, how covered it was in decisions made in her absence.
“I know,” Ella said.
She moved Tasha’s name back near Carolina with one fingertip.
Lara nodded immediately. “Better.”
Margaret studied the chart. “That table may be too crowded.”
“We’ll adjust,” Ella said. Her voice was still pleasant.
Margaret’s brows rose a fraction, but she said nothing.
Lara picked up an eraser. “I’ll clean this up.”
“No,” Ella said. Too quickly.
Lara stopped.
The room went quiet.
Ella felt heat rise to her face. She forced a small laugh. “Sorry. I mean, leave it messy for now. I want to look at it later and make sure I’m not moving people around ten times.”
“Of course.” Lara set the eraser down as if it had become breakable.
Noah came to stand beside Ella, close enough that his sleeve brushed hers. “We can do it tonight.”
“Can we?” Margaret asked. “Because the venue wanted meal counts and entrees grouped by table soon, didn’t they?”
“Next week,” Ella said.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Lara’s gaze flicked toward the binder. She did not touch it.
Margaret opened her mouth, then closed it. “Next week, then.”
Ella hated herself a little for the satisfaction that gave her.
The rest of the visit was polite in a way the house rarely was.
Margaret asked again about the fitting. Lara made tea for everyone, then paused before using mugs and asked Ella which ones she preferred for guests.
That was considerate. Also awkward. Noah tried too hard to make jokes. Ella laughed too softly at them.
When Margaret finally left, she kissed Ella and said, “Don’t let all of this overwhelm you, dear. Lara and I got carried away, but only because we adore you.”
Ella smiled. “I know.”
Margaret squeezed her arm. “Good.”
Lara walked her out to the car because she had parked behind her.
Ella stayed in the dining room, looking at the seating chart.
Noah came up behind her. “I’m sorry,” he said. He did not ask what was wrong first.
Ella turned.
He looked uncomfortable, and not because he was annoyed with her. Because he was looking at the table and seeing at least part of what she saw.
“I should have stopped it,” he said. “Mom came by, Lara had the binder out because she was adding apartment notes?—”
“Apartment notes?”
“To the back. Nothing wedding. Just phone numbers. It was the closest piece of blank paper she had when a landlord called. Then Mom saw the place cards and started talking about Elaine’s knee again, and somehow it became seating.”
“That happens.”
“It shouldn’t have happened without you.”
Ella breathed out. The relief of being understood was almost painful. “No,” she said. “It shouldn’t.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry.”
Lara came back in before either of them could say more. She stopped at the edge of the dining room, keys still in her hand. “Ella,” she said quietly. “I am so sorry.”
Ella did not answer immediately.
Lara looked pale, but composed. Ella was beginning to realize tears made her feel responsible for soothing whoever had caused the discomfort in the first place.
“I got carried away,” Lara continued. “Margaret saw the place cards. She got excited. I should have said we’d wait for you.”
“It’s my seating chart,” Ella said. The sentence came out plain. A bit sharp. That somehow made it sound worse.
Lara nodded. “Yes.”
“And my place cards.”
“Yes.”
“And my wedding.”
Noah’s hand moved lightly against Ella’s back. Not restraining. Just there.
Lara swallowed. “Yes. Absolutely. I forgot that for a minute.”
The honesty disarmed her.
Ella had expected apology. Maybe defensiveness. Not that.
Lara looked down at the keys in her hand. “Not forgot like I don’t know. Forgot like I got caught up in being helpful and Margaret was pleased and Noah was relieved, and that felt…” She stopped.
Ella watched her.
“Good,” Lara finished quietly. “It felt good. Which is not your problem.”
For a moment, Ella saw her very clearly. Not as Noah’s dazzling old friend or the houseguest with too much emotional debris. Just a woman standing in a borrowed dining room with a set of keys in her hand, confessing that being needed had briefly mattered more than whether she belonged.
Ella’s anger softened at the edges. “I understand that,” Ella said.
Lara’s eyes lifted.
“But it can’t keep happening.”
“No,” Lara said quickly. “It won’t.”
Noah said, “Wedding things go through Ella. Or me and Ella. Not Lara.”
“Agreed,” Lara said.
“And my mom calls us.”
“Absolutely.”
“And no more vendors, place cards, seating, timelines, diagrams, anything unless Ella specifically asks.”
Lara nodded with every item.
The firmness in Noah’s voice made her feel guilty again, as if Lara had been scolded too harshly, as if Ella had invited a starving person inside and then complained when she took too much bread.
Lara gave Ella a small, brave smile. “I really am sorry.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to go upstairs for a bit. The landlord said she’ll call by six, so I’ll quietly spiral in the guest room like a dignified person.”
“You don’t have to hide,” Ella said.
Lara’s smile flickered. “I might need to, a little.”
Then she went upstairs.
Noah exhaled.
Ella sank into a dining chair. “Why do I feel like the meanest person alive?”
“Because you’re empathic.” He crouched in front of her, hands resting on her knees. “Because you can feel someone else’s hurt even when your own matters more.”
That made her eyes sting, so she looked away. “I don’t want to be unfair.”
“You weren’t.”
“I sounded territorial.”
“It’s your wedding. You’re allowed territory.”
Ella looked at him then.
His face was serious. Loving. Worried in the right direction for once.
She touched his cheek. “Thank you.”
He turned his mouth into her palm. “I mean it.”
Upstairs, a door closed softly.
Ella let her hand fall.
The landlord called at six twenty. Lara got the apartment.
The news changed the atmosphere in the house immediately. Lara came downstairs barefoot, eyes bright, phone pressed to her chest.
“I got it,” she said.
Ella stood from the couch. “You did?”
“I got it.”
Noah whooped once, too loudly, and Lara laughed as he grabbed her into a hug and lifted her off her feet.
Ella smiled. She was happy. Of course she was happy.
Lara was laughing. Noah was relieved. The guest-room door had an invisible date on it now. Two weeks and Lara would move into a third-floor apartment with bad shower pressure and actual sunlight. She would buy her own mugs. Her own candles. Her own place to put sadness.
Noah set Lara down. “We need champagne.”
“No,” Lara said. “Absolutely not. This apartment is being christened with whatever cheap red wine we have on hand.”
Ella stepped forward and hugged her too.
Lara held on tightly. “Thank you,” Lara whispered. “For everything. I mean it.”
Ella closed her eyes for one beat. “You’re welcome.”
They ordered pizza. Noah did, in fact, open champagne. Lara accepted half a glass and made a toast “to not dying in a highway Day’s Inn.” Ella added, “To sunlight.” Noah added, “To level floors.” It was funny and warm, and for the first time in days, Ella felt the mood in the house loosen.
Maybe this was all it had been.
Too much limbo. Too much uncertainty. A woman in crisis, a house in transition, a wedding full of invisible labor. Of course everyone had felt strange. Of course boundaries had blurred. Now there was a date. A plan.
The crack could close.
After dinner, Noah disappeared to take out the recycling, and Lara helped Ella stack plates in the dishwasher.
“I’m going to miss this kitchen,” Lara said, then winced. “Sorry. That sounded weird.”
Ella laughed. “It’s a good kitchen.”
“It is. It has a soul.”
“It has a sink that backs up if you peel potatoes too enthusiastically.”
“Flaws are charming.”
Ella handed her another plate.
Lara leaned her hip against the counter. “I’ve made things hard for you.”
The sentence came without warning.
Ella looked up.
Lara was not crying. She was looking directly at Ella, and in that directness there was something like respect.
“I don’t think you meant to,” Ella said.
“No. But impact over intent, right?”
Ella smiled faintly. “You have been scrolling therapy Instagram.”
“It’s not wrong though.”Lara’s smile faded a little. “I really did like you from the beginning, you know.”
“Did?”
“Do.” Lara corrected herself quickly. “I do.”
Ella rinsed a plate longer than necessary. “I like you too.”
“That’s made it worse.”
The water ran between them.
Ella turned it off.
Lara seemed to regret the sentence, or perhaps only how naked it sounded. She set her plate down carefully. “I mean, if you were awful, I could feel less guilty about being a burden.”
“You’re not a burden.”
“I am sometimes.” Lara’s mouth curved sadly. “But a hopefully a charming helpful one.”
Ella laughed softly.
Noah came back in, cold air following him from the mudroom. “What did I miss?”
“Me being charming,” Lara said.
“Then nothing new.”
Ella smiled and took the towel from the oven handle to dry her hands. The towel was folded neatly. Not looped over the handle the way she usually left it. A tiny thing. She unfolded it, dried her hands, and looped it back.
The next few days improved because everyone behaved with great care.