Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
“Mom. I usually work from ten to ten on Saturdays in the fall, since I, you know, create a haunted house. I got off at four thirty by promising my boss I’d work three extra shifts at no overtime pay. So I’m really sorry that you’re disappointed, but I can’t be here until five. That’s the time Emma told me, so that’s the time I have.”
Rage flickered in their mother’s eyes and was quickly controlled. “I would think you’d care a bit more about your sister’s big day,” she sniffed.
“Yeah?” Jamie finally snapped. “I probably care about as much as you cared about me when you thought you’d have a dress made for me in secret in case you were able to guilt me into wearing it instead of something I’d feel good in.”
Blythe opened her mouth, but Jamie barreled on.
“I probably care approximately the same amount as you cared about my presence or my life when you scheduled this wedding right after the one month out of the year that I work Saturdays.” Jamie drew in a ragged breath. “So yeah. Looks like I don’t care either.”
Their mother’s nostrils flared, and her lips pursed as she arranged her face into rigid neutrality. If they hadn’t been in public, Blythe would’ve ended Jamie. They turned around to head back inside.
Emma was standing between them and the door. Her face said she’d heard everything.
“Shit, Emma, I didn’t mean—”
“Whatever,” she said patting her hair. “Just, can y’all come back in? It’s time for dinner.”
***
Dinner was at a single long table with Emma and Dave at the head. The wine flowed freely, and several of Dave’s friends made speeches, as did Emma’s real maid of honor.
“Sister of the bride!” someone called, and everyone else raised a cheer.
Jamie’s stomach tightened, and they ignored the cheer, turning to Edgar instead. No one had mentioned anything about preparing a speech. But their parents were both glaring pointedly at them. Jamie swallowed the anger and awkwardness down and did what they always did at family gatherings: they acted like a good sport so they wouldn’t make anyone uncomfortable.
“Oh, me?” they said, rising and accepting the microphone.
They straightened their tie and gulped champagne. Emma’s tight smile pleaded with them not to embarrass her. It must be really stressful to need people’s approval this much, thought the part of Jamie that would once have needed to say, I’m not her fucking sister.
“My sister, Emma, has always known what she wants,” Jamie said instead. “I admire that about her.”
Emma’s smile turned more genuine. Their parents’ faces relaxed into pleasant masks.
“When we were kids, she had a crush on this boy, Nathan Jones. She said she loved him and was going to marry him.”
People chuckled, and Emma, relaxed now, made obliging aw shucks gestures.
“I asked Emma how you knew you were in love, and she said that it was when you couldn’t stop thinking about someone, when you wanted to be around them all the time. What was the third part, Em?” Jamie vamped. “Oh yeah, when you want to smell their hair.”
Emma’s bridesmaids laughed, and Emma rolled her eyes congenially.
Jamie glanced at Edgar to see he was watching them intently. “I hadn’t been in love at the time. But now, um, I know she was right. And what better way to be around someone all the time than to pledge forever to them? Emma, I’m so glad you found someone you want to make your life with every day.” A chorus of awws and murmurs of assent came from up and down the table. “And,” they concluded, “I do think Dave is the wiser choice—even though he doesn’t have much hair to smell.”
Dave ran his hand over his buzz cut and grinned, color high on his cheeks. His groomsmen pounded him on the back.
“Because I think Nathan Jones ended up playing hockey in Canada, and you could not deal with the weather up there.” They held up their glass to gratifying chuckles. “So congratulations, Emma and Dave. I wish you all the happiness in the world together.”
They quaffed their champagne and sat down to a chorus of cheers and congratulations. Edgar slid a hand onto their thigh and squeezed. When Jamie looked up, Edgar’s warm brown eyes burned intensely, and Jamie felt an answering warmth burning just as bright inside.
***
After dinner, people moved more freely, making the rounds to socialize, and Jamie hoped they’d be able to make a break for it soon. Edgar was starting to get the wild-eyed look that beset him after too much social interaction, and Jamie was exhausted. They glanced at their watch. It was close to nine. Surely things couldn’t go on too much longer? Then someone wheeled out the dessert table.
Speeches from another bridesmaid and groomsman, and then Emma took the microphone. On the table amid platters of desserts was a large covered platter. Emma removed the dome to reveal a cake, and cheers erupted from Dave and the groomsmen. At first, Jamie couldn’t tell what it was supposed to be, but finally they realized it was a set of golf clubs.