Page 112 of The Fast Lane

Frankie and Ruth joined us a little later. Abe teased Frankie for still being the shortest of the brothers.

“Hey, I have the biggest guns though,” he said, and proceeded to take us all to the “gun show” by flexing his arms.

“You’re such a meathead,” I said.

“He’s sexy,” Ruth said, gazing at Frankie with hearts in her eyes. You know what they say about a lid for every pot. That pot and lid had definitely found each other.

Melanie burst into the middle of our group, her eyes wild, and waved her phone around. “No. No. No.”

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Cal put an arm around her shoulders.

“The weather forecast. It’s just been updated and…and…” She shoved the phone in his face, her eyes filling with tears. “Rain. So much rain. It’s supposed to start tomorrow and go for the next five days.”

“We planned for this. Remember? We have that tent on backup.”

“But…but it won’t be the same. Everything is falling apart.” Melanie threw her arms around Cal.

Mack stepped forward, cradling Karen in his arms. “I’m sure it will be okay.”

Melanie straightened, sniffling. “Nothing is going to be okay. The personalized labels for the water bottles aren’t going to make it. The deluxe nut mix I ordered in bulk is mostly peanuts. My mother hates Portland, and one of the bridesmaids and one of the groomsmen are probably going to get in a fist fight during the ceremony. And…and…the napkins are white instead of cream. It’s all going to be a disaster.”

Abruptly, Mom stood, a smile plastered on her face. “You know what we need.”

We all swung our heads in her direction.

“We need pictures. We need pictures now.”

So, we spent forty-five minutes getting more pictures than any one person needed. Theo offered to take them for us so the “whole family” could be in them, and the idea of that made me sad. Theo should be in these photos, too.

“What are you doing?” I said. “Set a timer and get in here with us. You’re part of this family.”

Theo hesitated.

“Of course, Theo.” Mom waved him over. “You’ve always been part of our family.”

Even through all of that, Dad was careful to stay on the opposite side of the room, never getting close enough to Abe to require words be spoken between the two of them. After we finished and someone ordered us pizza, I watched Dad duck out on the patio. I followed and found him sitting at a little wrought-iron table that had a citronella candle working overtime to keep the mosquitoes away.

“Can I join you?” I asked.

“Of course.”

I sat next to him, but we didn’t speak. At least not for a while. Dad and I were like that. We were okay with silence. Which was the exact opposite of Mom, who couldn’t stop talking.

“Wish I had a cigarette.”

“You don’t smoke.”

“Oh, I used to. When I met your mother in college, I smoked all the time. Then she nagged and nagged until I stopped.” He stretched his legs out and crossed them at the ankles. “I don’t wish for one often, but tonight, a smoke sounds real nice.”

“Sorry I can’t help you there.”

“Eh. It’s not good for me, anyway.” He rolled his eyes. “And God forbid I did, and your mother smelled it on me. I’d never hear the end of it.”

“You and Mom are so weird.”

His smile was small but sincere. “I love your mother. No other woman out there for me.”

“Even if she drives you crazy sometimes.”

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