Page 59 of Yours Temporarily

The towering decorated cake on the other side of the kitchen makes this wedding more realistic.

“For some reason, all your grandparents decided to get here tomorrow,” Mom grumbles, moving her fork through her steaming pasta. Dinner was simple tonight, salmon and pasta with baby broccoli. “That means we’ll have the rehearsal dinner before your bachelor party.”

“As long as we’re done by seven.” I rest my fork on the salmon, and my gaze flicks to the other table. Zuri’s head tilts back as she laughs with the other women, her eyes sparkling with unrestrained joy.

I recognize two of the women, wives of our friends. The guys stayed home to put their kids in bed and let their wives come here tonight.

If only Zuri was laughing at something I said. Her gaze finds mine as if she’s aware of me looking at her. She nods before looking away.

Laughter at our table pulls me back. Maybe it’s the lighthearted meal or whatever it is, but Mom appears relaxed as she recounts some of Gavin’s childhood memories. Childhood adventures that have Dad and Aunt Patty laughing.

“Not that long ago, Gavin turned the backyard into a mud-wrestling ring.” Mom’s blue eyes twinkle as she shakes her head.

“And Jeremy, always the faithful sidekick, jumped right in without a second thought.” Dad lifts his drink in a toast. “ I recall your mother looking at you both covered head to toe in mud—she was too overwhelmed to get upset.”

“Don’t tell me you laughed about it?” Aunt Patty, in her brown coat, wags her Diet Pepsi.

“Crazy as it sounds, I laughed.” Mom beams as if the memory is like yesterday, yet I was nine and Gavin eleven.

“But you still scolded us for ruining your flower garden,” Gavin says.

As the remnants of the summer rush into my mind, I wag my fork at Mom. “You made us work with the gardener to replant those flowers if my mind serves me right.”

“Since then, I make sure the gardeners plant the lilies in perfect rows.” She’s smiling at me.

I must smile too. I’d been very particular with the gardener on how I wanted the rows planted straight. The man had to inquire of Mom if he could do as I asked, instead of the zigzag pattern previously used.

Mom has some flexibility when she chooses. Like then, or how at the cabin and tonight she ignored the seating chart. My parents are wonderful, and I have no doubt they love us. I don’t like how Mom disrespects Dad at times and he lets her get away with it. But they’re still together, so I guess their arrangement works out just fine.

We continue talking and laughing, and our chatter and laughter mingles with the clinking of silverware against porcelain.

Then the doorbell shatters through, and everyone falls silent.

Mom calls for one of the servers to answer the door. Soon, a loud bark resounds as something black barrels straight for the kitchen, charging with the fervor of a storm. Mom squeals. “Don’t tell me that’s a dog.”

We all pivot as the dog launches itself at the cake and topples it from the stand.

I leap, and so does Gavin. “The cake!”

“Oh no, Trent!” Aunt Patty mumbles, and concern fills me. Yes, for the cake, but also because Trent’s long-awaited return isn’t going to be a smooth welcome now.

In confusion, we walk to the kitchen. Morgan’s attempting to shoo the dog. One of the servers stands still in shock with hands on her cheeks.

“Get this dog out of here!” Mom’s command is louder than her clicking shoes as the Lab spins around, moving to the kitchen, seeming to look for something else to tear apart.

“Buster, no!” Trent emerges, dressed in a floral-print top, his long hair pulled back in a ponytail. He rushes to his dog. “Bad dog!”

“Well, that’s not going to help us now, is it?” Her face red, Mom pivots to Trent, now holding his dog by the collar. “You didn’t make reservations, and you show up with your rowdy dog—Where in the world am I supposed to get a wedding cake one day before the wedding?”

Trent winces, scanning all our faces. He waves at me and then Gavin. “Not the best reunion, is it?”

“We’ll figure something out,” I promise, being the best man, although I have no idea if a small-town bakery is capable of rescuing us on such short notice. Trent was never one to plan ahead, so I’m not surprised when I ask if he has a leash for his dog and discover he has none.

Gavin requests one of the workers to get the dog water as Trent vanishes with the Lab. “I’ll keep him in the car for a while.”

We’ll need to figure out where the dog is going to stay the night. But I have other things to figure out first, like getting a leash.

My gaze flicks to the icing and sponge carpeting the floor. The room is silent, still, and I call Morgan as he pulls out the drawers. “You can make a cake right?”