Page 131 of The Fast Lane

Mom managed to produce a candle like a magician and held it up, the twin peaks and their wicks standing tall and proud.

From my vantage point, I saw several guests press their lips together, holding in laughter. Some stared at their plates of chicken or steak. But no one, no one made a sound.

Cal rubbed his forehead, looking torn between laughter and tears. Same, bro.

Lydia turned to me, her eyes huge. “Your mom is the candle lady.”

Laura choked on a roll. “Holy crap. She is.”

“Who’s the candle lady?” Penny asked.

“The candle lady.” Lydia slapped her sister on the back as she coughed. “She’s the one who makes the candles that look like boo?—”

I stood and smiled brightly. “Thanks, Mom, for all your hard work.”

I rushed over and took the microphone away from her. Still clutching her candle to her chest (oh, the irony), I walked her to her seat next to my father and the same table as Melanie’s parents where Aggressively Polite Sonya looked apoplectic.

As I was walking back to my seat, I heard Dad say, “Did you know Stephanie is internet-famous?”

As the best man, Frankie gave the first speech at the reception after everyone was served. The maid of honor, Penny, followed. Then it was basically open mic night. Anyone who wanted to say something, could. And boy, did they.

One after another: cousins, parents, work friends, old friends, new friends, Mom for a second time, and then Theo.

“If you don’t know me, I’m Theo Goodnight, and I’ve known Cal and his family since I was nine. We’ve been through a lot together and I have the battle wounds to prove it.” He pointed to his chin and told the story of how he’d gotten it after my brothers dared him to jump off the roof onto our trampoline.

“We’ve shared a lot of memories—good ones, bad ones, a few illegal ones, that one time in…Well, I’m not supposed to talk about that.” He paused for the laughter to subside. “But this last week might have been the most epic, most important week we’ve ever undertaken.” His eyes found mine again. For a suspended second, it felt like we were the only two people in the room. At least, until he looked away.

“Cal is the first of us to get married so I’m not sure I can give you any solid marriage advice. But I’ve had this in my wallet for a long time. Someone very special gave it to me. And I thought I’d share it with you.” From his pocket he produced a piece of paper. It looked brittle, the folds fragile, like something he’d pulled out often. “I’ve always thought if you find someone who makes you feel this way, do everything you can to hold onto them. It’s called ‘Home:’”

“A home is more than four walls and a roof.

“A home is protection from storms and rain.”

My breath caught. I flashed back to sixteen-year-old me slaving over yet another poem dedicated to Theo, the same poem I had earnestly and foolishly used to profess my undying love to him there in his dorm room. That terrible, awful poem, the same one Theo was reading right now. It was one I’d given him all those years ago.

And he’s kept it tucked away in his wallet. Tears gathered behind my eyes.

Theo continued:

“A home is strong and sturdy and faithful.

“A home is a place to rest your head at night.

“A home is where all your precious things live.

“But to me,

“A home is a person, a soft place to land.

“A home is the person who protects your heart.

“A home is the person who loves you on your worst days.

“A home is the person you can’t imagine living without

“A home, my home, is you.”

Carefully, Theo folded the piece of paper back up and tucked it back in his pocket. “Cal and Melanie, I think you’ve found your home.”

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