Chapter 29
The early evening air is buzzing with music and laughter, the formerly empty tent now crowded with bodies in formal wear, and by some miracle, everything has gone without a hitch—at least since the guests arrived.
Lucy moves effortlessly around the maze of tables, glowing more radiantly than the elaborately beaded trumpet gown that makes her look like a movie star from the twenties, even with the cast she’s wearing on her left arm, which has been bedazzled to match her gown like an extra accessory.
When they finally make it to their seats at the head table, I give them a couple of minutes to themselves before I interrupt.
“Congratulations, you two. So? What’s the verdict?”
Lucy beams up at me. “Everything is perfection. You’re a miracle worker, Sloan. I don’t know how you did it!”
“Honestly, we can’t even begin to repay you,” Keith adds, slinging a suited arm across the back of his wife’s chair. “We owe you.”
“I wanted to do this because I owed you. Let’s not forget I’m the reason you’re wearing a cast,” I say, nodding towards the white, bling-covered fiberglass on her arm.
Lucy’s face softens. “Don’t worry about this,” she says, touching her fingers to the cast. “The photographer said they might be able to Photoshop it out. And Veronica bedazzled the crap out of it, so I’m trying to think of it as a statement piece for today.
Honestly,” she looks over at her new husband, love filling her eyes, “I’m too happy right now to be mad about anything. ”
I’m not sure which photographer she means, since she hired a whole team, in addition to the magazine photographer who was here earlier for the exclusive event coverage. Still, I ignore that in favor of seizing the opportunity in front of me.
I let out a nervous exhale and take the opening. “In that case, maybe now’s a good time to request a small favor?”
“Oh no,” Lucy winces. “Is my sister still giving you a hard time? I swear, she’s more upset about me being in a cast for my wedding than I am.
I love her more than anything, but that girl would rather rig up a bridge with explosives than mend a fence, you know?
I keep telling her it’s not worth the frown lines, but she won’t listen.
I guess it’s true what they say; you can’t choose your family. ”
I laugh. “No, it’s nothing like that. She’s been great today.”
It’s a slight exaggeration, which Lucy must suspect because she exchanges a look with her new husband. “I doubt that. But if this isn’t about Molly, what’s this favor that you need?”
Having rehearsed this part, it doesn’t take me long to explain.
I step away after getting the green light, then scan the room to make sure Parker’s still here.
He’s standing politely while Veronica talks his ear off about something, just as we planned.
Veronica spots me and I twirl my finger to signal that she needs to keep talking.
A few minutes later, Paul steps up to the podium and grabs the microphone.
The guests cringe as a screech of feedback rips through the speakers, followed by a ripple of polite laughter.
Paul looks annoyed until a passing groomsman moves him a few steps away from the speakers and gives him a reassuring, if somewhat patronizing, pat on the shoulder.
I down half a glass of champagne as the guests take their seats, thanks to Paul’s semi-coherent instructions, but it does nothing for my dry mouth.
As the first course is served, I can’t ignore the thumping in my chest as I wait for my opening.
When it looks like Paul is about to go for the mic again, I rush to beat him to it.
“Don’t worry,” I say, pushing him back into his seat and patting his shoulder like the other guy did. (It seemed to work when placating Paul.) “You eat, I got this. Read this for me after, would you?” I pass him a folded napkin.
“This your number, beautiful?” he says, sounding overly pleased.
I roll my eyes and head for the mic, clearing my throat into it tentatively to make sure it doesn’t do that awful screech again.
The conversation quickly hushes and people turn in their seats to face me, no doubt wondering who the hell I am.
There’s still a gentle clinking of cutlery, and I’m grateful for the background noise.
“Um … most of you don’t know me,” I start, gripping the mic to keep my clammy hands from shaking. “My name is Sloan Sanders, and on behalf of the staff, I’d like to welcome you all to Salem Stables.”
There’s a smattering of applause, and I’m bolstered by how professional I’m sounding.
I finally see the one head that matters—Parker’s—turn towards me, recognizing my voice, which I’m sure he didn’t expect to hear over the PA system.
Especially after he’d flat-out refused to play along with using walkie-talkies during the setup.
Something about not wanting to talk to me any more than he had to.
I swallow. Grand gesture, I remind myself. He won’t trust me until I can prove how much he means to me.
“I’m glad to see that everyone managed to find the place, given that it wasn’t exactly what was listed on the invitation…
” There’s laughter, the kind that only happens after a chaotic turn of events is resolved.
“Though if there is an empty seat beside you, please let us know. We’ll make sure that nobody is sitting in a dark, swampy field wondering when the signature cocktails will arrive. ”
The rumble of laughter this time is genuine, and the crowd roars again when someone calls out, “Where’s Aunt Millie?!”
Underneath the white canopy, the barn door is framed with the Edison bulbs we repurposed from the loft, the pasture ringed with the ones we never bothered to take down. Against the darkening sky, it appears to be a genuine wedding venue, not a backup plan.
“I think it’s safe to say that the happy couple has gotten the beautiful day they deserve.
Thank goodness they’re willing to roll with the punches, so to speak.
You’d never know to look at them that two days ago, they had no place to have their wedding.
Lucy was here last week for a bachelorette party—”
There’s a cheer from the bridesmaids that makes me chuckle.
“That’s the reason behind the cast she’s wearing, if you haven’t heard the story yet. The short version is, I wanted to do something to make up for it and somehow talked Lucy into giving Salem Stables—and me—a second chance.”
I take a deep breath, lifting my eyes to the span of faces looking up at me.
“I’d love to tell you that things went smoothly this time around—which is what I told the bride and groom earlier—but that would be a lie.
I would not be lying if I told you the truck that delivered the tent got stuck in the driveway this morning.
Or that I had to bribe one of the delivery guys to make sure everything was set up in time.
Oh, and that I was still wearing sweats when the first guest pulled in.
Everything looks great now, but getting here was nothing short of disastrous. ”
There’s a smattering of hesitant laughter, though most people are wondering where the hell I’m going with all this.
“My point is, life doesn’t always go according to plan.
Today certainly didn’t. If you don’t believe me, you can see for yourself.
The messy behind-the-scenes reality is online with the wedding hashtag.
” I chance a look towards the bride, whose curious expression has been replaced by a frown.
With a sharp inhale, I look away, plowing on and hoping I’m not making a terrible mistake.
“Lucy’s trip home for Christmas six years ago didn’t go to plan either.
Her flight was canceled, the trains were booked, and she ended up in a car, squished in the back seat between two jocks she’d never met before.
One of them is sitting beside her tonight. ”
I turn, and the audience looks with me, heads tilted in collective appreciation and admiration. “How’s that left hand feeling, Keith?”
He leans over to kiss Lucy on the cheek. “Light as a feather.”
A ripple of laughter titters through the crowd.
“Life rarely works out the way we expect it to,” I continue, my eyes finding Parker at the back corner.
He’s growing restless, and I’m afraid he might leave before I make my point. Veronica is hovering near him, but she won’t be able to stop him if he decides to go now. I need to wrap this up, and quickly.
“More often than not, neither does love. It’s messy and chaotic and terrible and wonderful, everything you want and don’t want to feel all wrapped up into one person.”
I hold my breath as Parker looks up, our eyes locking across the tent. Clutching the microphone tighter, I keep talking.
“I’m not married, but I have been in love.
So, I’ll share the single most important piece of advice I’ve ever gotten.
Embrace the mess. Be real with each other.
The memories you’ll make along the way won’t be the perfect moments you capture on camera; it’ll be everything in between.
If you’re lucky enough to find that person you belong with, the one you can be completely real with, you have to jump.
No chute, no backup plans, no exit strategies.
Jump with both feet, even if it takes you somewhere unexpected, even if it throws off your life plan.
Because life isn’t really about plans, it’s about love …
family. Everything else comes second.” I look away from Parker to the crowd again, trying to stay steady on my trembling knees.
I might be used to putting myself on camera for social media, but there’s something so much more vulnerable about being in the same room as the people watching me.
Or maybe I’m only this nervous because Parker’s here. His is the only opinion I care about.