Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Tori
M y job was fully remote, but Marco worked in an office downtown.
Since I wasn’t “chained to a desk like a goddamned peasant” and could “take my laptop someplace comfortable instead of rotting away in a human zoo,” it usually fell on me to come to him if we were meeting during the week.
I didn’t mind, especially since I nearly always spent a couple of hours working in a coffee shop before we met up. I loved my job.
Marco was not nearly as fond of his place of employment. “Are you sure your company isn’t hiring?” Coffee in hand, he dropped into the chair across from me with a pouty flourish. “Because I need to work at home where I can scream into the abyss in peace.”
“Mmm, yeah.” I gave him a toothy grin. “It’s so nice.”
He tsked and kicked me under the table. “I hate you.”
“Your jealousy is so transparent.”
Sighing theatrically, he rubbed his eye with his middle finger.
“Oh, don’t be a baby.” I kicked him back. “You make three times what I do. You can suck it up and scream into a pillow.”
He made a haughty sound and muttered, “As long as it’s a designer pillow.”
I snickered, and he let a chuckle break through.
This was and always had been our dynamic, and I loved it.
Marco’s snark had kept me sane through a lot of dark times, and I’d helped him through some pretty rough spots too.
There were people who thought our humor hit below the belt, but we understood each other and knew where the lines were.
A mutual friend had once joked that if we’d both been straight, we probably would’ve married each other.
“Oh God, no,” Marco had said, voice full of horror. “No way in hell.”
“Yeah, no,” I’d agreed. “We’d be divorced after a week.”
“Divorced?” He’d scoffed. “Please. You’d bury me in the backyard and run off with my money.”
“Hmm. Good point. Divorces are expensive. Shovels are cheap.”
Our friend hadn’t known how to respond to that. Marco and I had collapsed into laughter. Yeah, our humor wasn’t for everyone, but I adored him and wouldn’t trade him or his bullshit for anything.
And speaking of getting married…
“So.” I absently turned my coffee cup between my fingers on the table. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”
Marco’s expression shifted to a serious one. “Oh yeah?” He sipped his own coffee. “What’s on your mind?”
I tapped my nails beside my cup. “You’re still ordained, right? For weddings?”
He scoffed and nudged my leg with his foot. “It’s not a driver’s license, hon. It doesn’t expire.”
“They don’t make you take a test every year?” I asked with a grin. “Make sure you can still get through a wedding without sobbing or telling a mother-in-law to pound sand?”
“Pfft.” He rolled his eyes. “Fending off an evil mother-in-law gets me extra ordained.”
“So, like an advanced belt? I thought this was marital arts, not martial arts.”
“Oh, sweet Jesus.” He facepalmed. Then he glared at me. “Are you proud of yourself, Victoria? Are you proud of what you just said?”
I quirked my lips and shrugged. “Kinda, yeah.”
Marco tsked. “Reported and blocked.”
I snickered. “Whatever. You love me.”
“Ugh. I do. And I’m disgusted with myself.”
“Likewise, darling.” I blew him a kiss.
“Anyway.” He sipped his coffee. “Why do you ask? Do you need someone to officiate your unholy union with Ava?”
I half-shrugged. “Obviously.”
A huge smile broke out as he sat up. “Oh, I was hoping you would!”
“Yeah? Why didn’t you say something?”
“Well, I didn’t want to impose. And besides, won’t your grandma get pissy about me as your officiant?” He glared at me. “Or did you finally admit that you were lying about me?”
“I haven’t told her.” I sipped my coffee. “I mean, if I don’t tell her, then maybe she and my aunt won’t come to the wedding, so…” I toasted with my mug. “Solves a few problems, doesn’t it?”
Marco snorted. “Oh my God. You’re seriously going to use that to scare them away from your wedding?”
“Well, it isn’t like I can just uninvite them. My family would go nuts!”
He inclined his head. “But it’s okay to let people think they won’t come because I was allegedly ordained by the Church of Satan?”
I shrugged innocently. “I’m still inviting them.”
“Do you think they’ll come?”
With a groan, I said, “God, I hope not.”
“But it could be fun!” He grinned wickedly. “I could wear bright red contact lenses and give the old bats menacing looks throughout the ceremony!”
I laughed. “Damn it. That would be fun.” And Ava’s mom would get a kick out of it, too, but I didn’t mention that because I didn’t want to tip my hand too far.
It felt weird, keeping something like this from Marco.
He knew things about me that almost no one else did—the only person on the planet who knew more of my secrets was Ava. I didn’t like hiding this one from him.
But I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t tell anyone except Ava. We had to keep this between us or things could?—
“Hey.” Marco nudged my foot with his. “Where’d you go?”
“Nowhere.” I shook myself and picked up my coffee again. “Just… I guess it’s a little overwhelming to think about. Getting married and all that.” I laughed nervously, hoping it telegraphed stress and nerves instead of fear that I was making a huge mistake.
It must have, because Marco smiled. “It’s a lot. I remember.”
I arched an eyebrow. “You eloped.”
“I know! And do you know how stressful it is to try to plan a trip anywhere with that man, never mind make sure we come back legally married?” He gave an exasperated sigh and shook his head.
“A full-on high-octane wedding would have made the ’til death do us part thing moot because I wouldn’t have survived the rehearsal. ”
I was giggling uncontrollably by the time he’d finished. “God, you are such a drama queen.”
He huffed sharply. “Derrick made me show him that I had my passport on my person seven times before we even made it to security, Victoria. Seven . Times .”
“Uh-huh, and if memory serves, that’s because you once had to run after an Uber driver after it fell out of your pocket and?—”
“Oh, shut up.” He harumphed and went for his coffee, muttering, “Bitch” just before he took a sip.
I kicked him hard, and he jumped in the same moment he choked on his coffee. “I’ll show you ‘bitch.’”
He gave me the finger. I stuck out my tongue. Then we both laughed, because we were dorks. I seriously loved this man.
Marco shifted in his chair and grinned at me. “So, do I get to be the gay best friend who comes and makes catty remarks while you try on wedding dresses?”
I rolled my eyes. “I mean, I’d say yes in a heartbeat if you didn’t have the fashion sense of a straight man.”
He touched his hand to his chest and gasped. “You take that back.”
I cocked a brow. “Do I need to pull up pictures from college?”
“College doesn’t count. That’s in the past.”
“It was three years ago.”
“And so was my relationship with Jillian, but I don’t see you letting that go any time soon.”
“Ugh.” He tsked and let his shoulders drop. “Jesus Christ. You really are such a bitch.”
“Takes one to know one.”
That earned me another kick under the table.
Totally worth it.
Unfortunately, Friday evening—New Year’s Eve—wouldn’t be nearly as fun as my banterfest with Marco. Time to for me and my fiancée to face my family.
Ava’s family were the definition of queer allies.
They’d been a little surprised when she came out, but that was only because they hadn’t expected it.
It just hadn’t crossed their minds. Once that momentary “oh, really?” had worn off, it had just become Langley family canon that Ava was gay. Everybody moved on.
The Griffins? Well, that had been a little more…
complicated. My parents were fully supportive now, and they’d accepted every woman I’d ever dated (even if they hadn’t quite been able to hide how much they didn’t like Jillian).
My siblings and cousins were fine. The grandparents, aunts, and uncles had taken varying amounts of time to come around, but most of them eventually had.
Most of them.
Fortunately, my grandma and Aunt Elizabeth wouldn’t be at my parents’ New Year’s party.
A few relatives would be, though, and while they had sort of grudgingly accepted that I was a lesbian, they still weren’t completely comfortable with it.
There wouldn’t be a midnight kiss between Ava and me tonight, and there probably wouldn’t have been even if we really were a couple.
It just wouldn’t be worth the potential pearl-clutching and “well, I understand that’s your lifestyle, but I wish you wouldn’t flaunt it in front of everyone. ” Ugh.
So, needless to say, I still wasn’t sure how some of them felt about someone like me getting married.
Guess I was about to find out.
I parked in front of my parents’ house and took a deep breath.
Ava watched me from the passenger side. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I swallowed, then turned to her. “Just nervous.”
Her forehead creased. “Do you think they’ll, uh…” She bit her lip. She’d been there through my parents’ initial weirdness, and she’d heard all about my extended family’s issues over my sexuality.
“I think it’ll be okay.” I wasn’t sure if I was lying. “The really awful people won’t be here.”
“Well, that’s good.” She laughed nervously. “Start on easy mode with the chill part of the family before you have to deal with… that.”
“Ugh. Can’t wait. I, um… I won’t drag you along for that part.”
“It’s okay. We’re in this together.” She paused “And you’re doing something huge for me and my mom. If you want a united front when you face off with them, I’ll go.”
I managed a smile, and I squeezed her arm. “I’ll keep that in mind.”