Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
NORA
When Pansy sees me taking a seat next to Cormac, she waves to me with her cupped palm presented outward, as if she thinks she’s the Queen of England.
The wedding-party table is, unfortunately, a long, horizontal table aligned with the bar, facing the smaller round tables, putting us on display for the other guests.
At least we’re seated next to Hannah and Travis.
Our parents are supposed to be seated to my left, but they haven’t entered the tasting room yet.
My cousin Hazel and her mother are on the other side of the bride and groom’s empty chairs, along with Dottie Hendrickson and her longtime romantic partner, Bear.
Our other friends, Liam and Briar, and Sophie and Rob, are sitting at the same table as Pansy and José.
Oh, God. I’ll have to tell José about this mess, won’t I?
Or, actually…
Maybe it would be better if he thinks I’m genuinely dating Cormac. That way he won’t have to keep lying to Pansy, something I know he struggled with in the whole Marco-fifteen-kids deception.
Pansy’s still staring at me, so I lean my shoulder against Cormac to give her a little thrill.
“Is something wrong with you?” he asks, glancing at me with a furrow between his brows.
“Dating lesson one,” I whisper, trying not to speak loudly enough to be overheard by Hannah, who is deep in conversation with Travis. “Don’t ask women if there’s anything wrong with them.”
He looks annoyed as he says, “What if I see a woman having convulsions?”
“Call the doctor.”
I sip my ginger beer, smiling at Pansy, who leans in to whisper something into José’s ear. He does a double take, then glances back at me, giving me a what the fuck? look if I’ve ever seen one. I give him that Queen of England wave back.
Huh, it feels pretty good.
“Why are you doing that?” Cormac asks pointedly.
“Pansy gave me the weird Queen of England wave, and I decided to try it out. It’s pretty fun.”
He shrugs and does the Queen of England wave with me, prompting José to frown.
“Whisper something to me,” I hiss to Cormac.
“If we were in a secret relationship, I’d be more subtle than that,” he says softly, leaning in so the words are for my ears only.
I arc my head up slightly to smile at him. “Hey, that was pretty smooth. Put that line in your back pocket.”
“In case this exact scenario should repeat itself?”
“You never know.”
My phone buzzes in the little puke-green clutch my mom got me to match my dress, and I pull it out to find a text from Pansy. It’s a link to Pads by Pansy, which I open with no small amount of consternation.
I recognize the first “pad” in her portfolio right away. It’s José’s apartment…or it was.
Oh shit.
He was all about stark minimalism in the past, after spending a week in Sweden, but not anymore. Everything in his apartment looks like it’s grown a thick layer of faux fur. The sofa set is fluffy white, arranged atop a lush pink rug.
Cormac glances over my shoulder. “Oh, is that one of those before-and-after things? I wonder how someone could go about fixing that. Seems like you’d have to throw everything out and start at the beginning.”
You know, Cormac’s really starting to grow on me…
A throat clears, and I look over to see my brand-new stepfather, Eugene Peebles, standing with my mother on the small stage that presides over the dance floor, to the right of where we’re sitting.
My mom’s beehive looks like it busted a leak, with hair spilling out, and Mr. Peebles is decidedly disheveled.
I hear Hannah muttering, “My man, Eugene.”
Cormac groans with real feeling, but at least our parents waited until we left the room to maul each other.
Truthfully, I’m happy for my mother. She spent most of her life with a man who only remembered she existed when he needed something, and now she’s married to a guy who treats her like she’s his North Star. It’s exactly what she deserves.
Do I wish he hadn’t been my elementary school principal?
Sure, but it’s not like I knew him personally back then. All I remember was that he had this big bushy mustache, and we were all fascinated by it. I’d started a rumor that it was fake, adhered by superglue, and someone had actually tried to tear it off.
This situation is undoubtedly more uncomfortable for Cormac, who actually had my mom as his second-grade teacher. While I don’t even remember what my second-grade teacher’s name was, I’ll bet Cormac remembers everything.
“We’re so grateful you’re all here,” Eugene says with the grin of a man who just got lucky. “And we’d like to give a special thanks to my good friend Hannah, without whom my lovely wife and I would never have reconnected.”
Yeah, about that. He was her boss, technically speaking, for years. She’s a second-grade teacher at Lakeshore Elementary, and he used to be the principal.
Hannah stands and delivers a dramatic bow.
“They’ll be serving the salads momentarily,” Eugene continues, “but first let’s have a few words from the best man and the maid of honor.”
I glance at Cormac, who’s running his fingers across the edge of the tablecloth as if he’s seriously considering pulling it up and hiding beneath it.
“Rock, paper, scissors for which of us has to go first,” I whisper.
He silently counts off on his left hand and then presents me with his fisted right hand just as I play paper with a flat hand.
He frowns as I engulf his rock. “Rock was the strategic choice.”
“Apparently not.”
Sighing, he gets up from his chair and walks toward his father, his long legs eating up the distance. I watch him with a smile, anticipating what he’s going to say.
Hannah pokes me. “Friend meeting. As soon as dinner is over. I need an update on whatever’s going on with Pansy Pants. I’ve already texted Briar and Sophie about it.”
“No argument from me. Check out Pansy’s new business.” I flash her my phone screen—the nightmare website on full display—and she snatches it from my hand just as Cormac reaches the stage.
I settle back in my seat, feeling my attention pulled between Cormac and Hannah.
He looks nervous as he liberates the microphone from his father.
I smile at him, not that he’s looking, and then glance back at Hannah, who’s already snickering as she scrolls through the photos.
She passes the phone along to Travis, who probably knows an uncomfortable amount about my private life, including the whole Marco conundrum.
I don’t mind. I like that he doesn’t try to tone Hannah down and change her. He’s like the anti-Pansy.
Maybe they can both help me figure out how to deal with my extortion problem.
Because there’s no way in hell I’m letting Pansy “pimp our pad,” as she threatens to do on her website.
In fact, I’ve already hired our friend Sophie, who’s a crafting genius, to make some seasonal updates to the brewery in a couple of months.
No way am I firing my actual friend and hiring Pansy.
My gaze shifts back to Cormac as he clears his throat—directly into the microphone—and says, “I don’t really believe in marriage.”
A fantastic start.
Mr. Peebles looks a little hard done by but not necessarily surprised. My mother is giving Cormac the same look he probably got from her in second grade.
One of the guests laughs.
“Oh,” Cormac says, catching on that his opening line wasn’t a crowd pleaser.
“I meant as an institution. I wasn’t talking about this marriage specifically.
My father always told me that if you don’t succeed once, try, try again, so I’m not surprised he’s here, trying again.
There’s nobility in that, and I’m proud of him.
Even if he is marrying my second-grade teacher. ”
He gets another laugh for that, this time from Liam.
Liam is Hannah’s brother, but while she’s petite, he’s a giant.
It’s kind of cute that he and Cormac have become such great pals recently.
They’re an unlikely pairing, but both of them are a bit no-nonsense.
Liam’s not a bullshitter, and I have to admit the same can be said for Cormac.
It distresses me a little that the same cannot be said of me.
“My father is a good guy, and he’ll never leave the sink full of dirty dishes, Mrs. Applebaum-Peebles.
If he does, you can make him write lines on a whiteboard.
Unlike me, he has excellent penmanship.” More laughs.
“Well, I won’t keep you from your salads,” Cormac says after a beat.
“We all know lettuce wilts within fifteen minutes of getting dressed. I’ll turn the floor over to…
” He hesitates, his gaze drifting across the room until it settles on me.
To my shock, he winks at me. “The lovely Nora. Let’s all give her a hand. ”
Everyone claps politely. My gaze darts back to José and Pansy, who are both studying me.
José looks pissed; Pansy places a hand over her chest and pats it a few times to mime a beating heart.
I give her a knowing smile as I stride over to Cormac and our parents, accepting custody of the microphone.
He lets his fingers brush over mine, and I have to admit he’s putting on a good show.
He’s better at this pretending game than he thinks.
I make my speech, which is much less memorable than Cormac’s, and then we all sit down to our wilted salads, followed by microwaved entrees.
“Does this remind you of something?” Cormac asks in an undertone as he takes a halfhearted bite and then pushes the plate away.
“The mystery chicken casserole at Lakeshore Elementary,” I respond.
My mother, who has been so lost in Mr. Peebles’s eyes that she hasn’t said a word to us since sitting down, smiles at us from her position beside Cormac and says, “Gloria agreed to cater for us. Eugene and I both liked the chicken casserole best. It was the first thing we ever spoke about.”
I can’t decide whether that’s sweet or sad—maybe a bit of both—so I choose to be happy that she’s happy.