Page 125 of Worst in Show

“There. Should we head over to the gazebo?”

“I’ll take the dogs.” Leo holds out his hand for the leashes. Then he wishes Harvey good luck.

Harvey winks at him. “Good luck has nothing to do with it, son. When it’s right, you know it. You feel it in your bones.”

My eyes narrow at the silent understanding that seems to be passing between them, but I don’t ask. There’s no time, and if they’re in cahoots about something, I will eventually find out about it.

Leo holds my hand tightly throughout the ceremony, which is brief but sweet and officiated by Dawn who was already ordained from a previous wedding.

“You did a great job with her dress,” Leo whispers to me when Sylvia walks down the aisle on her brother’s arm. Charles has regained his ability to walk, but his speech is still a work in progress. More importantly, he’s also forgiven Harvey for stealing his puddings.

Cholula prances proudly ahead of them and stops next to Harvey as if she’s trained for this moment her whole life. I guess she missed out on the audience back in December.

“Thanks, I’m happy with it.”

“You made that?” my mom asks on the other side of me. She and my dad are in town for the weekend, though I’m still not convinced they’ll actually stay for the picnic later. If they hauled away in the RV right after the happy couple is pronounced husband and wife, I’d not be surprised. Consequently, I’m not holding my breath, but instead focusing on the warm, solid fingers gripping mine. Some people have awesome, close relationships with their parents. Others have grandfathers, bonus aunts and grandmothers, and boyfriends who treat them like the princess they once dressed up as for Halloween.

“Yeah, it’s part of my portfolio from class,” I tell her. My Christmas present from Leo was a design class at a fashion studio in downtown Chicago. After winning the money, and then having Leo, and Sylvia for that matter, step onto the stage as major players at Harvey’s side, I’m not needed at the store much anymore.

“Maybe you can make something for me some time,” Mom says.

It’s the closest thing to a compliment I’ll get from her, so I’ll take it.

“Have you thought of doing it professionally?” Dad asks, leaning forward on Mom’s other side.

“Martin,” Mom says sternly and slaps his arm. “Look alive, will you. She’s starting classes at the Art Institute this fall. I told you this already.” She shakes her head discreetly so only I can see. Getting old, she mouths.

I smile indulgently.

“Very good.” Dad nods to me. “Good for you.”

They do end up staying for the picnic, which is a rustic affair with blankets, baskets, barking dogs, and finger foods provided in large part by Diane.

Sylvia has a big family, and after the newlyweds cut a cake the size of a small horse, the younger crew breaks out lawn games and kites. As far as perfect afternoons go, it is a solid ten—I don’t know how else to describe it.

Leo lounges next to me, his six-foot-two frame stretched out languidly in all its glory, feet bare, sleeves rolled up. Cholula is curled up next to him, drilling her dark eyes into his every time he stops feeding her ice cream from the carton in his hand.

“Should I be jealous?” I ask, my smile tilted to the sun. “Or are you just making amends for old times?”

The boombox someone brought is playing retro hits in the background, and my toes keep the rhythm while I wait for him to answer. When he doesn’t, I use my hand as a shade and look at him.

His gaze is a caress, playing across my face.

“What are you thinking?” I ask.

“Nothing.” He feeds Cho another spoonful. “Sometimes you still take my breath away, that’s all.”

That lightness only he evokes fizzes inside me. “Good answer. I shouldn’t be jealous then?”

“Definitely not.”

The steady piano beats of a Dolly Parton song ring out over the speakers, and Boris’s tail starts wagging on the blanket next to ours where Sylvia and Harvey have been whispering sweet nothings to each other going on a couple of hours now.

I want that. And I want it with Leo. One day.

“Here he goes again,” Leo laughs, echoing the lyrics as the wolfhound starts singing along.

Leo puts the spoon down and pulls us both to our feet, sweeping me into his arms so that we move together in a slow shuffle.

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