Chapter 13 Friday #2
“I don’t know how I missed this,” Matthew mutters, looking pointedly at the ground before raising his eyes to meet mine. The hurt in his gaze makes my insides constrict.
“There are, like, a million Bermans on Long Island. There was no reason for you to think this one would be my sister.”
“I guess I just assumed you would have told me if your sister was getting married. We only text, like, every day.”
“I’m so sorry,” I start, my voice shaking.
I try my best to avoid wiping the sweat from my palms onto my dress.
“I don’t know why I didn’t mention it,” I say, though that’s not entirely the truth.
I liked having one person who didn’t ask me questions about Jamie’s wedding, one person who didn’t know that my baby sister is light-years ahead of me.
His camera hangs loosely around his neck as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “If you didn’t want to see me, you could have just said that.”
“It’s not that at all.”
“You lied about canceling your trip,” he states matter-of-factly.
“Well…” I give in and wipe my hands on my dress. My palms are coated with another layer of moisture within a second. “There is an explanation.”
“Places!” my mother shouts.
Matthew offers a curt nod. “Well, that’s my cue.”
He starts walking toward the crowd that’s gathered in the center of the garden.
“Wait.” I reach out and grab his hand. I’m shocked by how warm it is, especially compared to my cold and clammy one. My body temperature rises in response. “Sorry,” I say as I let go quickly.
He looks down at my hand. “It’s okay.”
“I’ll find you after the ceremony. To explain,” I clarify. The adrenaline high I’ve been on for the last few minutes begins to fade, and I can feel a nauseous pit beginning to form in my stomach. I take a deep breath in.
Matthew shrugs, confusion and hurt lining his perfect blue eyes, and walks away. I walk toward the open doors, needing a minute alone to regain my composure.
“Wrong way.” Dad intercepts me on his way out.
“No, I have to—”
“It can wait,” he says, turning me around and pushing me in the other direction.
Back toward Matthew. “I don’t like having my picture taken any more than you do, but today’s not about what we want.
It’s about what she wants.” He points to my mother, and then immediately begins cracking up at his own joke.
He’s right, though. Today is not about me. Far from it. I take one last deep inhale and continue walking with Dad, determined not to draw any attention to myself.
“Phoebe”—my mother grabs me by the arm—“you’re up front, next to Jamie.” That puts me right in front of Matthew’s lens.
“Are you sure?” I examine the three rows made up of cousins and aunts and uncles. “That would make the front row come out to an odd number of people. What if I stood next to Uncle Jim in the third row?” I reference the empty spot in the third row behind my tallest cousin.
“Are you well, Phoebe?” my mother asks, sincerely. She places the back of her palm against my forehead. “First row. Next to your sister. Now.”
I shuffle to my spot, suddenly lightheaded and clutching Jamie’s arm for balance. I look everywhere but at the camera while Matthew snaps the first few photos. I pretend to pick a piece of lint out of Jamie’s hair when I sense him stepping toward me.
“I think if you move a little this way…” He places a gentle hand on my back, and the spot where his hand meets my exposed skin begins to heat. I flinch.
“Sorry.” He pulls away quickly, but the damage is done. My back is now permanently scarred with an outline of his handprint.
I look down at his hand.
“It’s okay.”
There’s a silver ring on his index finger that makes my stomach somersault for some reason.
“Something’s happening,” I hear Ethan whisper to Jamie.
Matthew clears his throat. “I think you’ll be more comfortable if you just angle your body a little more outward.” He makes an awkward gesture with his hands.
“Okay,” I tell him, turning so my back is pressed against Jamie’s like we’re two of Charlie’s angels. “Like this?”
“No, no,” he says as he smiles. “The other way.”
“Oh, okay. Right.”
“Yeah.”
“Is that good?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
“Is anyone seeing this?” Ethan whispers loudly. Jamie nudges him in the ribs.
From my left, I can sense Dad’s attention start to pique. “Seeing what?”
“There seems to be something going on with Phoebe and Matthew.” Mom beams.
“Who’s Matthew?” Dad asks.
“I’m Matthew.” He raises a timid hand.
“Hello, Matthew,” a sultry voice adds from behind. Aunt Carol.
“Let’s let Matthew do his job,” I say with as much command as possible.
“That’s a great idea, honey.” My mother looks at me and then over to Matthew. “You know, she’s very smart, this one.”
“Yeah,” he agrees. “She is.”
“And she’s very creative,” Mom goes on, and I put an immediate end to it before she can continue her sales pitch.
“Please,” I beg.
“All right,” Jamie announces with a clap of her hands. “Next one to say anything is getting seated next to Aunt Carol, and I’m not kidding.”
And then, finally, with the exception of Aunt Carol’s protest…silence.
No one dares to speak until Matthew puts his camera away.