33. Allie
Allie
Do not laugh.
Do not laugh.
I bite the inside of my cheek and pinch my leg, and when that doesn’t work, I attempt to hold my breath, because this is not the time for laughter.
It’s just that I have a tendency to laugh at inappropriate and completely inopportune times. Like funerals. Or when my boss shared the numbers for our last quarter.
They weren’t great, and while everyone else cowered while he berated us for not doing better, I burst out laughing.
Not my finest moment.
But this might top that.
This is my best friend. The love of her life is proposing.
Pull it together, Allie.
“Nate?” Rory says, her voice that perfect, breathy tone.
She’s even holding her hands to her mouth, like she can’t believe what’s happening. Innocent.
Hold it in.
“I love you, Rory. Will you do me the greatest honor of my life and marry me?”
“Nate,” my best friend breathes again.
Oh God. Now she’s blinking back tears.
I bite the inside of my cheek again, still holding my breath. She’d better answer soon, or I’m going to pass out.
I’m happy for her, obviously. Beyond elated. She and Nate have been end-game since high school. And I’m not laughing at them or the situation. I’m not even laughing at anything, really. It’s just a reflex that I can’t control.
Hold it in. Do not fuck this up for Rory.
There’s only so long I can hold my breath, though, and eventually, the need for oxygen wins out.
I wish I could let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, like all the heroines in the romance novels I love. But seriously, who doesn’t realize they’re not breathing?
I can’t focus on anything besides releasing the air from my lungs and pulling in some oxygen.
Unfortunately, when I finally do let out my breath, that’s the breaking point.
The laughter bursts out of me with a terrifying snort, and my only saving grace is that it happens just as Rory says yes with stars in her eyes, and the audience murmurs a collective “Awww,” which covers most of the sound.
I try to cover it with a cough anyway.
Stacey, not fooled, fixes me with what I’ve deemed her Teacher Look. Focused gaze, chin dipped downward just slightly, and lips ever so slightly pursed.
I’m sure it works well on the six-year-olds she deals with, but unfortunately for her, it has absolutely no effect on me. If anything, it makes me laugh harder.
I double over, doing my best to contain my laughter as Rory embraces her fiancé.
Aww, true love, or whatever.
A finger pokes me in the flank as my body shakes with laughter, and I know who it is before I look.
“What?” I hiss, spinning in my seat.
At least I’m no longer laughing.
“Did you know he was going to propose?” Dylan whispers.
He gestures to the stage, where Nate and Rory are now kissing and, in all likelihood, winning this stupid pageant. Really, who can top this moment?
“Yes.” No. “Why, didn’t you?”
I tilt my head, widening my eyes to convey sincerity. I can’t help it. For a high school principal, the man is gullible as fuck.
His brows pull together. “Seriously? Why didn’t you tell me?”
I turn farther in my chair to face him. I can’t see Rory and Nate from this angle, but I’m sure they’re good. Happy, engaged. No need to dwell on who got pregnant and hid it from whom and all of that. We’ve moved on to happily ever after.
“Why would I tell you?”
“Because that’s my sister. I deserve to know.”
“She’s my best friend.”
“I’m family.”
“Same thing.”
Dylan rolls his eyes as he pushes a hand through his dark hair. “No, it’s… Dammit, Allie. Why are you like this?”
Do I take pleasure in antagonizing Dylan? Why yes, I do. There are very few things in my life that bring me the same level of happiness as annoying my bestie’s big brother.
Also, while he may have a tiny handful of redeeming qualities, he’s a pain in the ass. So he deserves it.
“It’s the way my mama made me,” I answer. “Or maybe there’s something about you that brings out this special side of me.”
Something about Dylan brings out this side of me, that’s for sure. I’m just not sure I’d call it special.
Crazy, maybe.
Bitchy.
Unhinged.
Immature.
What can I say? The man drives me insane. And it’s completely his fault, too.
For right now, I take comfort in the fact that Nate and Rory’s overly public engagement is squarely the center of attention, and that Dylan is too busy being happy for his sister to bother me.
Anyway, I have more important things to focus on.
My job, for one. There are layoffs looming, and while I’d love to strike out and start my own PR firm or even branch out into something completely unrelated, there’s a sense of security that comes from working for an established company. 401Ks, health insurance, all of that.
And on a lighter note, Rory will obviously need a maid of honor for her wedding. Someone to plan things. An engagement party, for starters. A bachelorette party. Vegas? Napa? Tijuana? The possibilities are endless.
I can picture it now. I’ll need to double-check the colors for the wedding, of course, but we can incorporate some cream and gray colors that will complement just about anything.
Ooh. Bridal shower. I’m thinking an intimate gathering at a place in town, but where we can go upscale. Marge has an old Victorian home. Maybe it has a ballroom or at least a large dining room. That would be perfect.
This is really what I wanted to do, back when I first started in public relations.
Event planning. Making everything perfect, just for one day or one night.
And I think I’d be good at it, too. But that’s only a small part of what my firm does, and I spend most of my days answering emails and updating spreadsheets.
“Are you okay?” Stacey asks, leaning over.
“Huh?” I blink. “Oh. Yeah, I’m good. Thinking about bachelorette party themes. You know.”
Stacey’s look suggests that she does not know.
“I was just thinking about how to make it special for Rory,” I add. “She and Nate are so perfect together that I want to make everything that way. Can you help with the planning?”
“Maybe slow down there, Killer,” Dylan says.
His low voice grates at my nerves.
God, does he have to be such a buzzkill?
“Why?” I turn just enough to give him a side-eye. “Think you can do it better?”
“No. I just think you should talk to Rory about what she wants.” Dylan’s gaze moves from me to Rory and back. “Or just keep on going, full steam ahead. Whatever works for you.”
He mutters the last two sentences under his breath, but it’s plenty loud enough for me to hear.
I clench my jaw.
I will not kill Rory’s brother on the night of her engagement.
“I’ll keep doing what works for me. Thanks.” I turn back to the stage, where Rory and Nate are still standing with their arms wrapped around one another’s shoulders.
Smiles stretch across their faces. They lean in and kiss again, to the cheers of the audience.
God, I feel sorry for whoever has to follow this act. As if pulling at everyone’s heartstrings with his photos wasn’t enough, Nate pulls out a proposal.
Talk about a mic drop.
“Holy shit, let me see the ring!” The words come out in a rush as I finally—finally—get close to Rory.
I’m sorry, but who proposes to someone and then pulls them backstage so they can’t see their best friend? Rude.
Rory tucks her left hand behind her back. “First of all, were you laughing when Nate proposed?”
“No.” Yes.
“Yeah, that’s a lie.”
“True. But you know how I am.”
“You’re lucky I love you.” Rory throws her arms around me.
We embrace for several minutes before she pulls back and holds up her hand.
I grab her wrist and pull her hand close to examine the ring. It’s a princess-cut diamond, set with smaller diamonds on either side. It’s perfectly Rory.
“Gorgeous. Fucking gorgeous.”
She pulls her hand back and admires the ring. “It is, isn’t it?”
“It’s about damn time you agreed to marry him, you know.”
Rory giggles. “I know. But it never seemed like it was…real. Until now.”
Listen, if a man asked me to marry him, I wouldn’t make him ask twice. I’d lock that down. But then, it’s not like I’m some pillar of expertise when it comes to relationships.
“Okay,” I say, sweeping my arm in a broad gesture. “First, the engagement party, of course. I’m thinking something low-key since the entire town was there for the proposal. Maybe a luncheon? And then the bachelorette party, of course.”
“Allie.” Stacey pins me with a look.
“What?”
“Slow the fuck down. Let them enjoy being engaged.”
If you ask me, Nate and Rory have had plenty of time to enjoy being whatever. It’s not my fault that they broke up at graduation, and it sure as hell isn’t my fault that they’ve continued playing this will they-won’t they game.
Listen. They will. We all knew it, and now they have. The two of them are meant to be.
Soap operas have less drama than the relationship between these two.
But I’ll let them have their moment.
“Sorry. I’m just excited.” I shrug, offering a grin. “Please tell me you’ll let me plan some of the things. It’s what I live for.”
Rory bites her lip and looks at Nate, then at me. “I’d love for you to plan everything, Al. But only if you want. I know it’s a lot, and you have a full-time job, so I don’t want to put too much on you.”
“Say no more.” I hold up a hand, palm out in a stop right there gesture. “It would be my pleasure. I’m thinking—”
“Congrats, sis.” A deep voice interrupts my train of thought.
I don’t even need to look to see who’s ruining my flow this time.
“Can’t you wait?” I ask.
“For my sister?” Dylan counters, eyebrows raised. “I’d venture that it’s family then friends, so you might want to wait your turn.”
“Ugh.” I have more choice words for the man, but this is a special moment for Rory, even if Dylan has to involve himself, so I’ll hold back.
For now.
He reaches down to pull her into a hug, murmuring something in her ear that I can’t quite catch.
It’s probably along the lines of please don’t invite your best friend to the wedding, if I had to guess.
Ha. Fat chance. Rory and I have been inseparable since the third grade.