28
She was in good humor with all. She had received ideas which disposed her to be courteous and kind to all. —Persuasion
We feast in an open meadow surrounded by live oak encrusted with a million fairy lights, twinkling brighter as the sky turns a dusky blue. As usual, September got her way—no tent and no rain. The sky is so clear and dry you can even see a scattering of stars—a rare treat so close to the city.
As servers circulate with dessert, I step up front to give my toast, taking my guitar with me, since immediately after will be the duet with Freddy. I’m not sure where we stand. I can’t think about Freddy right now; I need to get through my short speech.
“September is my little sister, but somehow she always seems to beat me to what’s important in life. I was eight, still riding my bike with training wheels, when I saw September whizzing around without them. And I thought, maybe I should try that?”
I seek my sister in the crowd. September wears a floor-length lace veil pinned to her hair, twisted in a low chignon with a large magnolia. The blossom is so large it almost serves as a hat. The look is elegant, bridal, and dramatic. Just what September was hoping for.
“So, I took off my training wheels.” Dad and September, who both know the story, are already snickering. “And I broke my arm.” I pause for the laughter. “I did, truly. I soon learned to ride a bike without training wheels. I couldn’t be shown up by my little sister. Later, when I was busy with my music, I watched September go away to college and graduate. And I thought, I should try that... and I did. Much to the chagrin of my manager.” I catch Janene’s eye. She laughs good-humoredly. “Now September’s married.” My voice thickens with emotion. I take a moment to calm down. “Watching her and Carlos care for one another.” They gaze at me, steadfast, smiling, hands entwined. No matter what the twins say, Carlos was never the right choice for me. Those two together just work.
“And I can’t help but think, I should try that.” The audience lets out an audible, happy sigh. My eyes dart to Freddy and... oh my. I lose track of what I was going to say. It doesn’t matter; I’ve said what I need to. I cross over to a server, holding a tray of champagne flutes. I take a glass and turn to the audience. “Here’s to September; thank you, little sister, for always reminding me of what matters most and leading the way.”
Everyone repeats, “To September!”
“To September.” I take a large gulp. Freddy sips his champagne, eyes fastened on me. I take one more swallow for courage before taking my seat on the barstool.
Armed with his guitar and a determined expression, Freddy strides up front to join me. Showtime. Casual Freddy is a snack. Freddy, clad in a black tux, is breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He wears his hair down, wild and wavy.
He leans over and whispers, “You crushed it.” His warm breath on my ear sends pleasant shivers down my spine.
He takes the mic. “As best man, I believe I am supposed to say something.” Confident, he takes a moment to make eye contact with his rapt audience. “Right now, words feel inadequate. All I’m capable of is a song.” Walking over to me, he plays his guitar; each note shines bright, slow, and distinct like single stars coming to light. The space between them builds anticipation. “When I met you, it all made sense.” His voice shocks me like being splashed by a cool wave on a hot day.
“What the poets say of love and romance.” Our eyes meet, and we both smile shyly. His voice caresses me, then rushes through my heart like the wind through golden grass. His eyes are fixed on mine, and I can’t help but feel he’s singing just for me.
The hope of a life with Freddy fills me with a joy so terrible it borders on grief. Our voices blend in the evening air, casting a spell upon the crowd. Even the little children go quiet. We started the song with casual smiles, but by the end, we’ve both become solemn. Freddy’s eyes burn with fierce adoration, and I never want to look away. It is not only that he is so excessively handsome, but that his expression mirrors my feelings. The clamor of guests rising to their feet, stomping and applauding, feels distant. Freddy takes my hand and kisses it. Every spot his lips touched burns in the best way possible.
The audience claps and hollers for more. Several wipe tears from their eyes. We’re ecstatic, swept up by the rush of an extraordinary performance, the collective love of this wedding, and the swelling hope that this is the beginning of something new and lasting. We look at each other in befuddled amazement. For one moment, I think Freddy might kiss me, which would be the perfect ending. He leans toward me, I swear, looking conflicted, then takes one step away, raising our clasped hands in triumph.
Carlos and September are on their feet, bounding over and crashing into us with an enormous hug. “You have a new hit!” Carlos says, slapping Freddy on the back. September holds up her phone. “Mark my words, this Reel will go viral!”
My heart still flutters; I take my seat at a table too far from Freddy. I can barely concentrate during my dad’s toast, which is surprisingly heartfelt and lacking Buck Harrington quotes. Right as he is winding down, the wedding coordinator taps my shoulder. “We have a cake emergency.”
When September said she didn’t want a wedding planner, Gloria, whose business is throwing parties, suggested we have a wedding coordinator at least for the week of to handle small emergencies. Great idea, in theory. But it feels like I’m doing all the things we are paying her to do. I follow her back to the house with Gloria. Together, the three of us smooth out the French buttercream that was messed up when the top tier of the cake toppled off during transport.
“So? You and Freddy West?” Gloria asks as we artistically place flowers to conceal the worst gashes. “What’s the story?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure there is a story.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
I shrug. I mean, during that song, I felt deep in my bones that Freddy cares for me the same way I care for him. But as that intense performance fades, my uncertainty increases.
“April, trust me. There’s something there,” says Gloria. “The sparks between you two during that song.” She shakes her head. “I’m surprised you didn’t burn down the hillside.”
***
When we return, Dad is talking to Freddy. It requires every ounce of my training as a performer to play hostess and talk to my aunt rather than run over and grab Freddy, demanding to know what they are talking about. Now, Dad is hugging him. Is this real life?
“Freddy?” Aunt Darlene repeats back with a look of confusion. “I thought the groom’s name was Carlos?”
Oh no! What have I been saying? I replay my recent words in my head. “Freddy is a catch.” Talk about a Freudian slip.
“Sorry, yes, the groom is Carlos, and we love him. Freddy is his good friend.”
“Is he that tall, handsome guy who can’t keep his eyes off you? The one you sang with?”
I feel myself blushing. “Um, yeah, that’s Freddy.”
“Do I sense a little romance?” my aunt asks.
“Um... between me and Freddy?” I almost squeak. I put my hands to my flaming cheeks.
“There’s my answer.” Darlene appears supremely satisfied. “He’s looking over.”
I can’t help but sneak a glance. Freddy has removed his bowtie, and his top button is undone just enough for me to see the leather cord of his jade pendant. I know the feel of that pendant. How the stone that rests against Freddy’s heart is always warm to the touch.
He catches my eye and gives me a devastating smile. He starts toward me with purpose.
“Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
I don’t even wait for my aunt’s reply, but I might hear her say, “Go get him Rainy.”
On my way, as luck would have it, I bump into Janene.
“April! That song! Wow! You and Freddy together. It gave me chills.” She hugs her bare arms and shudders dramatically. “This will relaunch your career.”
“Thank you, Janene. I’m glad you liked it.”
“Liked it? It was the most extraordinary performance. Tell me you two are going to record it.”
“Yep, Freddy has asked me to sing it with him for his next album. But after that, I think I will be done with music.”
“But dear . . .”
I cut Janene off. “I appreciate your interest, Janene. Know that I will always be grateful for your years of guidance. But I’ve got other plans. Let’s have lunch next week, and I’ll tell you about them. Right now, there’s someone I desperately need to talk to.”
Janene’s eyes follow mine to Freddy, who is several yards away, autographing a menu for one of Carlos’s many cousins.
“Freddy West?” She cocks an eyebrow.
“Yes and...” I am ready to leave. I’m in no mood to have her tell me why I shouldn’t date Freddy.
“Wait.” She puts a gentle hand on my arm. “April, I just want to say. Need to say. I’m sorry. I was wrong about him. Please know I only wanted the best for you.”
“I get it.” I nod slowly. “I know why you had concerns. I was really young. But I’ve grown up. I am ready to decide for myself what’s best for me.”
“I agree.” Janene’s eyes widen slightly and lock on someone behind me.
“He’s right behind me, isn’t he?” I ask, my hands rushing to my cheeks.
She gives me a quick hug. “We’ll catch up next week.”
I turn to Freddy. Everyone is watching us, and I don’t really care. We stand a couple feet apart. Both unsure of the proper greeting.
“Hey,” I say a little out of breath. He reaches out and takes both of my hands.
“You did it, Rainy; you stood up to Janene. You told her you’re not making an album.”
“I don’t think she believed me. But I told her.”
“I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you.”
Daisy and Flossman join us. Keeping with their eternal theme, Daisy wears a gold satin dress, while Rosie wears the same dress in a dusky rose. Rosie and Benwick sit at a nearby table, oblivious to everything, kissing.
“Ugh, get a room!” Daisy mutters to Flossman. “Wasn’t that guy sobbing over his dead fiancé a few weeks ago?”
I am a little surprised by how public Benwick’s and Rosie’s PDA has been, especially with Rosie’s parents, grandparents, and little cousins all watching or trying not to watch.
“I’m happy for Benwick,” Freddy says. “But I could never move on that fast.”
“Anyone who has listened to your music knows that,” says Flossman. Well, what do you know? The dentist listens to Freddy West. I can’t help but like him more.
Daisy gives her boyfriend an approving smile before turning to Freddy. “It’s totally obvious that you’re still pining for the girl who broke your heart.”
“Um...” Freddy reaches for the cord around his neck and twists it. “I wouldn’t say pining...”
“So, you’re over her?” I ask, emboldened by Gloria’s comments. Freddy looks adorably flustered.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
“I wouldn’t say I’m over her,” he answers, his dark eyes fastened on mine.
“Freddy! I need you.” Chuck Musgrove interrupts us. “The cousins are going to trash Carlos’s car.”
“Decorating the getaway car is a tradition,” Freddy replies, not taking his eyes off me.
“With spray paint?” Mr. Musgrove asks. Now, he has Freddy’s attention.
“Spray paint? I better see to this.” Freddy takes off to where the car is hidden behind the barn.
“I’ll come with you,” I say, running to keep up. I’m determined to get some alone time with Freddy before he leaves tomorrow for his British tour.
“Tell me about this muse of yours?” I ask as we speed walk across the immaculate green lawn.
“Where to begin?” He plays along. “She’s brilliant and talented and kind. Also, I think she’s beautiful.” He turns to me. “Especially tonight.” His words, combined with his sincere expression, leave me speechless. “Oh, and she broke my heart.”
“How is your heart now?’
“It’s fragile, but hopeful.”
“Good, good. Have you forgiven her?”
Freddy doesn’t answer right away, and I’m beginning to regret interrupting our playful banter with such a serious question.
He doesn’t speak until we are nearly at the barn. “Rainy . . . I . . .”
“Miss Elliot,” a parking attendant interrupts. “There’s a peacock holding up traffic.”
“Shoo him out of the way!” I say with frustration.
“It’s a combative peacock,” says the young man.
“Sorry!” I say to Freddy, and I’ve never felt more sorry. We part ways, leaving me unaccountably bereft.
“April! Where are you off to in such a hurry.” Johnny Love steps beside me, matching my frantic pace.
“I was told we have a peacock situation.”
“That’s Percival. He does have a bit of an ego. I’ll see to that.”
“Could you?” I slow my blistering pace.
“The key is feeding him.”
“Miss Elliot!” calls someone working with the caterer. “Should we open another case of champagne?”
“Did you ask the wedding coordinator?”
“I couldn’t find her.”
I sigh. Freddy is busy right now, anyway. “How much champagne have we gone through?”
The rest of the night is a blur. After I sort things out with the caterer, I’m waylaid by relatives. I enjoy most of these interactions, but I constantly keep my eyes out for Freddy.
After September and Carlos make their grand exit in a car free of spray paint, (thank you, Freddy) I search for him in earnest.
No one’s seen Freddy for a while. All night, I’ve been buoyed by the feeling that we are on the verge of something. Now, my hope deflates. He left? I know he has a flight in the morning. But I didn’t think he’d leave without talking to me.
I text him.
april
Did you leave?
I get a notification from his phone that he’s driving and can’t receive texts. Well, there’s my answer. Embarrassed about being so clingy, I immediately unsend my message before he can read it.