17. Chapter Seventeen Lucy
Chapter Seventeen: Lucy
E verything is totally perfect, just like I planned it.
I’m a genius, really. A bona fide event-planning genius . Humility can’t touch me tonight, because I know that everyone knows that this is the most beautiful wedding of the decade.
The transitions have been seamless. The ceremony flowed into the cocktail hour without any hiccups, which then melted into dinner without the need for any herding.
And now, the final crowning jewel… the reception.
Josie and Elijah have already cut the cake. The DJ is coaxing everyone out onto the dance floor with fantastic remixes of old songs from our teen years mixed effortlessly with more current music. Everyone is smiling and laughing and mingling, their eyes bright and cheeks pink with joy.
It’s perfect. Really, it is.
Despite that, there’s something strange and unfamiliar nibbling on the edges of my heart. It’s as if something is missing. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.
“Lucy! Finally! I’ve been looking for you for ages!”
I turn to see Eric shouldering his way through the crowd toward me. I feel a trickle of disappointment followed immediately by a shiver of guilt. Eric is a nice guy, but he’s not really the person I was hoping to see right now.
Then again, the person I want to see probably doesn’t want to see me. Which explains why I haven’t seen him since the ceremony. Honestly, I can’t even explain why I want to see him , of all people, right now, but…
“This has gotta be the best wedding I’ve ever attended,” Eric tells me. “Seriously, like—I mean, I know I’m a guy and I don’t really understand all that color theory and interior design stuff, but I think I was getting a little teary-eyed over how pretty the conservatory was. That was all your doing, wasn’t it?”
“Men are perfectly capable of appreciating aesthetics,” I reply lightly. “Failing to do so isn’t a biological shortcoming, but a societal one.”
Eric frowns in confusion.
“Thank you, though,” I continue. “Yes, the color scheme and the lighting were my brain child, but the Blakeley Conservatory is already insanely gorgeous without me adding anything to it. I was working with a good canvas.”
I don’t know why I’m talking like this. Why am I being so formal? So vaguely rude? I should be thrilled right now. I should be my normal friendly, chatty self.
“Right, totally,” Eric replies with a chuckle. “Well, hey, so I was thinking about sticking around town for a little while longer…”
My focus drifts away from Eric as my gaze floats over his shoulder.
That’s when I see him. Finally .
Theo is leaning against one of the elegant marble columns that hold up the gorgeous arched ceiling of Blakeley Manor’s ballroom. He has a glass of champagne in his hand, and he looks so… Goodness , he looks incredible. I noticed earlier, of course, when I glided past him down the aisle during the ceremony. I definitely snuck a few looks in his direction when I should’ve been paying attention to the bride and groom.
Suffice to say, Theo Danvers looks insanely good in a suit. Like, unfairly good. Of course, it’s probably an expensive bespoke ensemble that was crafted flawlessly to his specific measurements, but still. I have a feeling he’d look incredible in a potato sack. It’s not something I’ve made a habit of acknowledging, but even when we bicker, I know he’s handsome. Despite the fact that Theo hasn’t followed in his mother’s footsteps, he still looks like he just walked right off the silver screen and into reality.
Stranger than all these thoughts is the fact that Theo is staring at me.
Or rather, staring at me and Eric.
Even from this distance, I can tell that his gaze is flicking back and forth between us, and it occurs to me in that exact moment how close Eric is standing to me.
My cheeks warm. Theo is watching another man flirt with me and he does not look happy about it. Why does that send a thrill down my spine? Why does it make me feel all bubbly and fizzy inside?
I hate Theo Danvers. I always have. He’s an abominable grouch. Plus, I was just following his lead at Camp Hannefort. Because, clearly, he hated me first.
Except, we were kids then. We barely understood our own emotions and behaviors, let alone those of the people around us.
I would have kissed you. That’s what he said in the woods last night. If not for his panic attack, he would have gone through with that stupid spin-the-bottle game and kissed me.
That admission alone changes everything.
Then again, it also changes nothing. Theo lives in California. I live in Cape Cod. Our lives are based about as far away from each other as you can get while still remaining in the continental Unites States.
Also, just because I’m capable of admitting that we’re obviously attracted to each other doesn’t mean that we’re meant to be. It doesn’t mean that there’s anything more than natural physical chemistry between us. It doesn’t mean that any kind of romantic relationship would ever work out if we ever attempted it. It doesn’t mean that we’re destined to fall in love.
It doesn’t mean anything.
Not to mention, the idea of love still makes me skittish. Sure, I’ve had a small change of heart after witnessing how incandescently happy Josie is today, but I know I still have further to go before I willingly dive head first into romance.
“…so, maybe we could go together? It could be fun!”
I force my attention back to Eric. He’s got a big, hopeful grin on his face, and I know he just asked me a question, but I can’t even begin to pretend that I know what it was.
“I’m so sorry, Eric, what did you say? My mind is all over the place right now.”
“Oh, of course. I totally get it. You’re in event-management mode. It’s just that there’s this festival in Nantucket next weekend, and I was wondering if you would like to—”
“Hi, Lucy.”
Eric stops mid-sentence at the interruption. I’m pretty sure my heart trips over itself and forgets to beat for a few seconds.
Theo is standing beside us, a polite smile curving the corners of his mouth.
The last thing I ever expected from him was to actually approach me, let alone insert himself in a conversation. That’s not what he does. He’s the sort of person who observes from afar, sticking to the edges of a crowd. He doesn’t interrupt discussions. He doesn’t even contribute to them unless absolutely necessary.
“Hi,” I reply. There are definitely butterflies fluttering in my stomach at his sudden proximity.
“Hey, man,” Eric adds, somewhat begrudgingly.
Theo nods his head vaguely in his direction, but he’s only looking at me. He holds out his hand, palm up.
“Would you like to dance with me?”
Sure enough, the music has slowed down into an old alternative rock song that I remember swaying awkwardly to at middle school dances.
No, I don’t want to dance with you. I mean, I shouldn’t want to dance with you. Dancing with you would probably be a bad idea. Like, one of those bad ideas that definitely sounds like a good idea, but will probably turn into a disaster before you know it.
“Yes,” I answer.
My befuddled thoughts turn into wordless question marks at the unexpected response that spills out of me.
I think Eric says something as I slip my hand into Theo’s, but my heart is beating too fast for me to hear anything else.
Theo leads me to the dance floor. I’m too stunned to say anything. Who is this man? Is this the real Theo Danvers? The version of him that everyone but me gets to interact with?
When we reach a spot on the dance floor with plenty of space for us among the other couples, I rest my free hand on Theo’s shoulder. He places his on my waist. It feels just like it did before in the moonlit woods, both of us tangled in the ferns and pressed against the smooth bark of a tree trunk. What might have happened then if Eric hadn’t interrupted us?
I would have kissed you.
I catch Ruby Sullivan’s eye just past Theo’s shoulder. She’s dancing with her boyfriend, Ben, a charming poet from New York. Not far from Ruby is her twin, Amy, contentedly leaning against Liam’s chest as they sway together, her engagement ring gleaming in the dim light. Theirs will be the next wedding to plan.
Josie and Elijah are holding court at the other end of the ballroom, accepting the congratulations and compliments that they wholeheartedly deserve.
“It’s a beautiful wedding, Lucy,” Theo murmurs. “You did an amazing job. Really.”
I can’t help smiling at him, even as I’m simultaneously overwhelmed by how close his face is to mine. “You helped.”
He smirks. “Barely.”
“More than that. Without you, the lights and the slideshow and the mics wouldn’t be functioning properly. Plus, you sacrificed a shirtsleeve to help me with the wisteria arch.”
Theo playfully rolls his eyes, but he quietly accepts my praise. I call that progress. Actually, this entire moment symbolizes huge progress between us. Here we are, our bodies mere inches from touching, and we’re not even arguing. It’s a vast improvement on what happened twelve years ago.
His smile fades slightly. “I’m sorry I stole you away from Eric. I just didn’t know when I’d get another chance to talk to you.”
“You didn’t steal me away from him,” I insist with a laugh. “Eric is just an old friend. We’re not—there’s nothing going on between us.”
“Really? But he said you two have history…”
I scoff quietly. “If we do, it’s your fault.”
Theo cocks his head to the side. “What do you mean?”
I shouldn’t have said anything. “It’s nothing.”
“No, really.”
Fine. He was honest with me about his perspective of that night at Cabin B, therefore, I should be honest with him, too.
“The only reason I kissed Eric that summer is because I was trying to distract myself from the fact that you didn’t want to kiss me,” I admit. It sounds silly and childish when I say it aloud now as a grown woman, but it was the absolute truth when I was sixteen years old.
“Oh. I thought you didn’t like me, though.”
“I thought I didn’t either. In hindsight, I don’t think that’s true. I think I was a little heartbroken that you refused to even touch me. Of course, I understand why now , but back then I was just angry, offended, and hurt.” I’m talking so fast that I don’t even know how Theo is listening, but I have to get these words out before I lose all my steam. “So, when I came home for the rest of the summer and Eric was here, he was nice and friendly and I just wanted to get my stupid first kiss over with. Except, it was a complete disaster.”
The song is close to ending, but I’m not ready to let go of Theo yet. From the way his hand tightens on my waist, I think he feels the same way.
“A disaster?” he echoes.
“Eric gave me mono from that kiss. Then I shared a drink with Josie before I realized I was sick, so she got it, too. And obviously she was kissing Elijah all the time, so then he got sick. It was a whole thing. Eric left shortly after and I literally haven’t seen him since then. So, it’s not really like we have history together. It’s more like we just have a really funny, ridiculous story to tell about how we met.”
Theo’s lips twitch. “Our story is kind of funny and ridiculous, too. In hindsight, I mean.”
I mirror his slight smile. “Yeah, it is.”
The song melds smoothly into a more upbeat tempo, and I know it’s pointless to force Theo to stay on the dance floor. I let him guide me away from the center, back toward the marble column he was leaning against earlier. Along the way, though, I spot Miss Maisie. She floats past us, a serene smile on her face. Her shoulder brushes lightly against Theo’s and then she winks at me before disappearing.
Uh-oh.
When we reach the relative calm on the borders of the dancing crowd, Theo turns to face me. He has a frown on his face, though, and is reaching into the pocket of his suit trousers. When he pulls out his hand, his brow is furrowed as he stares down at three stones in his palm: a pearl, gray and oval like it was just plucked from an oyster moments ago; a deep red, almost black, stone that I recognize as a raw shard of garnet; and lastly, a polished pink hunk of rose quartz.
I glance back over my shoulder for any sign of Miss Maisie, but she has already disappeared into thin air.
“That’s weird,” Theo mutters. “Are these supposed to be part of the decor? They must’ve fallen into my pocket somehow. I guess.”
I shake my head. An odd feeling is twisting my gut. I know exactly what’s going on, but I never thought that I would be the victim of such divine intervention.
Pearl is my birthstone. And rose quartz represents love and compassion. Romance. A healing of the heart.
“When is your birthday?” I ask Theo.
“What? Why?”
“Just tell me.”
“January ninth.”
I sigh heavily. “Right. Garnet. Your birthstone.”
“Is that what this red one is?”
Once more, I look around for Miss Maisie, if only so I can wag my finger at her in disapproval. If she’s going to play matchmaker, she has two hundred other wedding guests to mess with. Shouldn’t she know that me and Theo are an impossible ending? That there’s no point in trying, even with all her mystical powers?
“That tricky old wise woman,” I mutter.
Theo is still staring at the stones in confusion. “Pardon?”