“Us too,” J.J. muttered.
“So, Linnea,” Brooke said, smiling at my sister, “is there anything I can do to help get things ready for tomorrow?”
“Call me Linnie,” she said. “And that’s so nice of you! But seriously, you should just enjoy yourself.”
“I’m happy to help, though,” Brooke said, taking a step closer. “I’ve been a bridesmaid, like, eight times by now, so I’ve pretty much seen it all.”
“Eight times?” Linnie laughed.
“That’s what happens when you’re in a sorority,” Brooke said, laughing too.
“Linnie!” My dad was yelling from the other end of the family room. “I had a thought. Why put the tent in the middle of the yard? What if we pushed it way to the back of the yard and spared my nasturtiums? Doesn’t that sound like a great solution?”
“No,” Linnie said, shaking her head at him. “We talked about this—” But my dad had disappeared through the door again. “Dad!” she yelled, but he didn’t reappear. “Be right back,” she said to me, already heading in his direction, deftly stepping around the GMA crew, who had moved the couches to nearly the center of the room and were currently pacing around them, light meters in hand.
“Weddings are always crazy.” I looked over to see Brooke smiling at me, like we were in this together, like we were friends. “I remember when my brother got married, it was two days of chaos leading up to the big day. I swear, everything that could have gone wrong did. But it all worked out in the end.”
I nodded. I knew I should respond to this, hold up my end of the conversation. I didn’t know anything about this girl, after all—I should ask her how many siblings she had, or where this nearly chaotic wedding took place, or even what kind of medicine she practiced. I could have treated this like a profile for the Pilgrim. Babbling Brooke! The Girlfriend Nobody Knew Existed Tells All. But I didn’t. I just stared down at my feet and crossed my arms over my chest. And as the silence between us stretched on, I became increasingly aware that I was behaving badly, but also that I wasn’t about to do anything to change this.
The doorbell rang, and I jumped at the opportunity to get out of there. “I’ll get that,” I said quickly, already heading for the front hall. As I reached it, I looked back for just a second to see Brooke standing alone where I’d left her, a fixed smile on her face, looking a little bit lost. I pulled open the door and smiled when I saw who was standing on the other side—Max Duncan, Rodney’s best friend, best man, and wedding officiant. “Hey, Max.”
Max looked the same as when I’d seen him last, at Rodney and Linnie’s engagement party. He’d been Rodney’s roommate freshman year and had been the one to officially introduce Rodney and Linnie at the first-night-of-school mixer. He was short and stocky, with an incredibly bushy beard, which he’d had since college—I honestly wasn’t sure if I’d ever seen the lower half of his face. He’d gotten ordained online to perform the ceremony, and had, in my opinion, gotten a little too into this, signing e-mails on the bridesmaids-and-groomsmen e-mail chains as Reverend Duncan. There was a suitcase at his feet, and he was holding a large duffel bag tightly with both arms.
“Hey, Charlie. Is everything okay?”
“Sure,” I said immediately, then wondered if Rodney had told him about our embezzling wedding planner. “Why?”
“I saw news vans in the driveway,” he said as he stepped inside and I shut the door behind him.
“That’s just Good Morning America,” I said. “They’re interviewing us on Sunday, so they’re here to prep.”
“Whoa,” he said, craning his neck toward the family room. “That’s pretty cool.”
“How was the drive?”
“Not bad,” Max said with a slow smile. Max didn’t seem to ever move too quickly or get too upset about anything—and he always, frankly, seemed fairly stoned, which Rodney had assured me was not an incorrect observation.
“I thought I heard the best man,” Rodney said as he came into the front hall from the kitchen. He reached out to hug Max, but Max just tightened his arms around his bag and took a step away.
“Hey, man,” he said, adjusting his bag and then smiling at Rodney. “How are you?”
“Fine,” Rodney said, glancing at the bag Max was clutching to his chest. “Uh—can I help you with your bag?”
“No!” Max yelled, then cleared his throat. “I mean . . . I’m fine. I’ll just . . . handle this one myself.”
Rodney exchanged a look with me. Stash? I mouthed to him, and Rodney rolled his eyes but then nodded. “Everyone’s in there,” he said, tipping his head toward the family room. “Want to come say hi?”
“Um,” Max said, shifting his weight between his feet. “I’d actually like to put my stuff down if that’s okay? Get settled in?”
“Sure,” Rodney said, giving him a knowing nod. “Just open the window this time, okay?”
“No,” Max sputtered. “That’s . . . that’s not . . .”
“He’s staying in Dad’s study,” I said, and Rodney nodded as he picked up the suitcase resting at Max’s feet.
“I’ll get you situated,” Rodney said, heading up the front stairs, Max following behind, still gripping his bag tight.
They had just disappeared up the stairs when there was a loud crash from the family room, followed by silence. I hurried into the room and felt my eyes widen as I saw what had happened. The model of the seating arrangements was lying on the ground, the tiny chairs and tables scattered around it, most of them smashed. J.J. and Kevin the Lighting Guy were each holding one end of our couch, and both of them were looking very guilty.
“Uh,” J.J. said as he dropped his end of the couch, causing Kevin to stumble forward. “It’s okay, right? No big deal . . .”
The back door slammed, and a moment later, Linnie was walking fast into the family room, followed by our parents. “Is everything okay?” she asked. “I heard—” She stopped short as she saw the model on the ground. “What happened?”
“So,” Jill said, sounding more and more tightly wound. “Can we just get this cleaned up and reset? If we could be ready to go in the next five, we should be okay.”
“We won’t be okay,” Linnie said as she looked up from the pieces of the model, “because the seating arrangements have just been wrecked!” He voice was high and trembling, the way it always was before she was about to burst into tears.
“It’ll be okay,” my mom said as she bent down next to Linnie and helped her gather up the pieces of the tiny chairs. “Surely you had the table numbers on the place cards?”
“No,” Linnie said, and I could tell that she was now meltdown-adjacent. “Because Clementine was supposed to do the place cards. So that model was all we had to tell us the seating arrangements!”
“Maybe Clementine did the place cards and Will has them,” I said, jumping in, even though I doubted it. If you’re neglecting your clients and fleeing with their money, I’m not sure you’re taking the time to fill out place cards. “I’ll call him, and—” I pulled out my phone and saw I’d missed a call and text from Siobhan.
Siobhan
OMG JESSE! We must discuss.
Also call me ASAP I need to talk to you!
I made a mental note to call her back later as I scrolled through my phone, looking for Bill’s number.
“We need to figure out what to do,” Linnie said. “Because if Clementine didn’t do the place cards, all the work we did figuring out where everyone would sit is just gone.”
“I actually took a picture of the model.” This was Brooke, of all people, holding out her phone to Linnie as she took a step forward. “So maybe you can use that to see the seating arrangements?”
“You took a picture?” J.J. asked.
“Yeah,” Brooke said, her cheeks going slightly pink. “Sorry if that’s weird. My sister is getting married, and I thought it was such a neat idea. . . .”