Page 10 of No Vow Broken

“I guess it did, Lexi.”

SIX

Lexi

The nearby small Catholic church, St. Michael’s, was a splash of white nestled in a lush green valley. The church had once been a small white house, built in the late1800s to accommodate the growing settlement, a popular stop on the new north-south railroad along the west coast of the Chesapeake Bay. It was quiet and quaint with enough space to appeal to both Slash and me and still fit our guests. Additional buildings had been erected on the grounds to accommodate parish activities over the years, but the sweet little church retained its cozy and humble feel, and we both felt comfortable there. Well, as comfortable as two introverts could be in front of sixty-seven guests including the president and the pope.

It was a fifteen-minute drive from the Bluff House and just over an hour from our house in Silver Spring, Maryland.

For tonight, the only people needed for rehearsal were Slash and his groomsmen—his best man Tito Blickensderfer, and his two brothers, Gio and Stefan. My wedding party would consist of Basia as my matron of honor, Elvis, and Grayson. I’d met Grayson, a CIA agent, when we’d both been assigned to bring down a cybermercenary in South Africa, and we’d become friends.

My father would also be there to practice walking me down the aisle. Father Emilio Armando, who was, for all intents and purposes, Slash’s father, would officiate the ceremony. Father John Mulroney, the lead parish priest at St. Michael’s, would assist Father Armando. Slash told me the pope had also asked to participate in the service by giving communion and saying the final blessing. But he wouldn’t arrive until Friday evening, and we both figured he didn’t need any practice doing stuff in the church, so Father Mulroney would stand in for him this afternoon, which was fine with me.

Amanda also advised us a member of the first lady’s staff would be there for protocol planning purposes and to advise the first family on the planned proceedings. Given the sheer number of people who would be at the rehearsal, it was a blessing my mom had decided to stay at Bluff House to keep eye on things there. Slash planned to go from the airport to the hotel to drop off some of his family, but he was bringing Father Armando and his two brothers to the church.

It was a lot to remember, but the geek in me also liked knowing all these details in advance. I was glad we were practicing, because the thought of being in front of all those people made my stomach queasy. I just had to steel my nerves and get through it. I wondered if it would be more traumatic than our “wedding” in Brazil or just a different kind of trauma. Regardless, I knew I could do it with Slash at my side.

The skies were becoming increasingly overcast as the afternoon wore on. Several seagulls languished hovering on the updrafts from the water and occasionally perching on the roof or steeple of the church. While we waited for Slash to get back from the airport, Basia and I strolled slowly around the church grounds to settle our nerves. Oddly enough, Basia seemed even more tense than I was as we walked. She had brushed off my previous attempts to see what was bothering her, but I was sure it was something.

I tried to figure out how to ask without openly prying or putting her on the defensive. “Is there something I should be worrying about, Basia? What am I not doing or doing wrong? You’ve been a bride before.”

She looked up in surprise. “You’re doing great, Lexi. If you want to worry about something, world peace, climate change, and international terrorist attacks are good ones.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m talking about wedding details and the mental state of my friends and family.” I added a little extra emphasis on the wordfriends.

Either my emphasis went over her head, or she was purposely being evasive. “I expect one or two minor things to go wrong during the wedding and reception, since that’s normal for every wedding. However, since we are talking about you and Slash, I think we can reasonably bump that up to least four or five incidents. Then, if it’s only two, you can celebrate with wild abandon.”

“Four or five minor incidents? Are you sure that’s enough?”

She shrugged. “Point taken. I guess we could adjust to three to four minor incidents and one major catastrophe. Honestly, that’s more your style. But I don’t know if having the pope and the president in attendance makes that any more or less likely to occur.”

“Calculating the odds, I’d opt for more.”

“Yeah, me, too.” I expected her to chuckle or laugh, but she did neither. For a few minutes, we lapsed into silence.

Eventually I sighed. “Okay, I totally suck at this friendship thing. Can you just tell me if you’re okay? Something seems to be bothering you. Is it something I did? I’m happy to apologize now, and even a few extra times to cover for what I haven’t screwed up yet.”

She stopped walking and, to my surprise, suddenly gave me a hug. “No, Lexi. You haven’t done anything. In fact, you’ve been a perfect bride-to-be—the complete opposite of a bridezilla.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“Good. Just be glad you aren’t one. Anyway, I’m working through something personal. It’s not bad.” Basia bumped shoulders with me and grinned. “I’m just trying to figure it out for myself. I don’t want to be a burden to you while I’m doing that. You have enough right now on your plate. There’ll be time later to discuss, I promise.”

“Okay, if that’s what you want. But you’ll let me know if there’s anything I can do to help in the meantime?”

“Of course. You’re my best friend, remember?”

“I remember. As your best friend, I should also let you know I’m not the only person who thinks you are acting a bit strangely lately.”

Now she laughed. “Like you know what acting strangely is. But thanks for telling me, Lexi. I’ll take it from here.”

Before I could respond, Amanda strode out of the church accompanied by a petite blonde woman dressed in a suit and low heels. “Ladies, I’d like to introduce you to Jennifer Scholl from the first lady’s staff. She’s here to make sure everything goes smoothly on Saturday with the president and first lady. She wants to confirm there are no participation requirements for them and no planned speaking roles.”

“That’s correct as far as I know,” I said, looking between Amanda and Basia. “You guys are the experts on that.”

“There’s no planned participation or speaking,” Amanda confirmed.

“Got it,” Jennifer said, noting something on her tablet. “We’ve gone over the seating arrangements. As far as I understand it, the pope will be sitting on the groom’s side of the church and the president and Mrs. Paulson on the bride’s side. Is that correct?”

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