Page 119 of Someone Like You

‘Oh, Mom, it’s going to be beautiful.’ Monica goes to her and picks up her hand, and Aunt Christine’s harsh expression softens a fraction. ‘All those flowers, for a start,’ Monica continues with a laugh. ‘We ordered enough for ahugevenue… Your home will be so full of flowers, it’ll feel like we’re at the Chelsea Flower Show.’

Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner, ladies and gentlemen. My auntlovesthe Chelsea Flower Show – she watches the live stream every year, then gets on a flower-arranging kick that lasts a month or two before she concedes, once again, that she will ‘never be a professional’.

Monica jostles her mom, cajoling a smile out of her. ‘Itwillbe beautiful,’ Aunt Christine admits. With her free hand, she cups Monica’s face, her eyes tearing up. ‘Youwill be beautiful, my darling girl. I can’t believe my baby’s getting married tomorrow.’

She draws Monica into a hug and Mom and I lock eyes across the room. She mouths, ‘Great job,’ and I modestly dip my head.

‘Right, everyone, now that’s sorted, we should get back to work. Lots to do,’ says Raff, taking charge. And rightly so. Of everything left on the list, baking a wedding cake is up there as the most labour intensive.

As the others spring into action – including Aunt Christine, who starts spouting off everything she and Uncle Marv need to do – Raff takes the bride and groom aside to ask what kind of cake they’d like.

‘Gaby, can you come into the kitchen for a sec?’ asks Mom.

I follow her out of the room. ‘Sure, what’s up?’

She looks past me to make sure we have privacy, then leans close. ‘So, Monica is staying at Chrissy and Marv’s tonight – with Brian.’

‘Oh, okay. So, she’s not superstitious then.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘That thing about the bride and groom seeing each other before the ceremony,’ I reply.

‘Oh, right. Actually, Chrissy mentioned that, and Monica called it “a BS, archaic tradition from the time women were considered chattel”.’

‘Sounds about right,’ I say with a laugh.

Mom regards me closely.

‘What?’ I reach up and brush around my mouth. ‘Do I have mustard on my face?’

‘No, hun. It’s just that with Monica out of the house, I thoughtwe could make some changes to the sleeping arrangements – put Raff in Issy’s old room on the king single and Issy in with you.’

‘Ahh…’

How did I not see that coming? And then it hits me: denial – pure, simple denial.

But Mom’s right. And so is Poppy.AndFreya. Sleeping next to Raff has been torture and with these new arrangements, there will be one less thing to obsess over. And, hey, I might actually get some sleep!

‘Sure, Mom. Sounds good. I’ll go up now and switch out the bedding.’

Mom reaches over and rubs my arm then gives it a squeeze, and the back of my throat prickles, signalling tears are imminent. Now that we’ve determined how to salvage this wedding, my brain has only one conundrum to chew over – being in love with Raff.

I expel a long sigh, then go upstairs to rummage through the linen closet.

‘I can run you down there,’ Dad offers. ‘Dave dropped off a set of chains a half-hour ago.’

Raff needs several ingredients for the wedding cake because (ofcourse) he offered to make a spiced, white-chocolate mud cake and there is not an ounce of white chocolate in the house – or Aunt Christine and Uncle Marv’s. He also needs a few other key items.

Dad says he’ll take us down the hill to Metro Market, but I worry about his SUV getting back up the hill – even with chains. Besides, Brian told us people are snowboarding down Queen Anne Avenue, then showed us a guy who’s live streaming it to Instagram.

‘We can just walk over to Trader Joe’s, Dad. It’s not that far.’

He frowns at me, then concedes. ‘Okay, sweetheart. But if it gets too much out there, call and I’ll come get you.’

He makes it sound like a warzone. It’s justsnow. And right now, it’s falling gently from the sky. If a blizzard were raging outside, I’d happily let Dad drive us the five blocks there and back.

Raff and I bundle into our warmest clothes and boots, then set out, making fresh footprints in the six-inch blanket of snow. For the first few blocks, we don’t talk, which is not unusual for us – neither of us are fill-every-silence type people. And Raff seems content to study each house we pass, his neck craning to see the roofs of the taller houses.

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