Page 101 of Always a Bridesmaid
The instant Lexi looked their way, his flight instinct kicked in—unfortunately, Violet was holding him in place. “Oh good,” Lexi said. “Y’all are here so we can get going.”
Like the gentleman he’d been told to be, he handed over the wine, which Lexi fawned over and went to grab glasses for.
Meanwhile, Lucia Murphy rose from the loveseat and greeted him and Violet with cheek kisses.
Addie and her mom were in the middle of a conversation about her sister, Alexandria. Something about her being sick with what her husband thought was a tummy bug. Maybe even a late case of the flu.
Murph glanced up, bleary-eyed, from the seating chart on her lap. “She’ll be okay in time for the wedding, right?”
Of all the ways Ford had expected her to respond to that news, that wasn’t one of them.
“I mean, I hope she feels better soon, of course,” Addie said with a shake of her head, as if she’d realized how calloused that’d sounded. “I’m just stressed because I thought she’d be here in time for the bachelorette party next weekend. She still hasn’t tried on her bridesmaid’s dress, and I was hoping she and I could catch up before I left for my honeymoon.”
“Don’t worry. She’s going to the doctor today, and I’m sure she’ll be up and running soon.” Priscilla pursed her lips and studied him. Decades of experience forewarned that the next words out of her mouth wouldn’t bode well for him. “Addison?”
Or maybe he was losing his touch.
“Have you talked to Ford about his hair? He needs a trim. Think of the pictures and the fact that you’ll have them hanging on the wall forever.”
At his side, Violet turned her laugh into a cough. She ran her fingertips up the center of his back and toyed with the ends of his hair, making him want to go Samson on everyone and declare he’d never cut it.
“Actually,” Addie said, “it’s long enough that I was thinking he could pull it into a man bun and match Lexi’s and Alexandria’s updos.”
This time Violet failed to hold back her laugh. It came out with a snort at the end, and then he was laughing, too.
He leaned over and whispered, “Do you think she realizes I’m right here?”
“Of course I do,” Priscilla said—he’d forgotten about the woman’s bat hearing. “But if I tell you what to do, you’ll do the opposite just for the sake of bein’ difficult.”
Addie’s mom strode over and jabbed a finger at him, and he regretted putting more distance between himself and the exit. “But you listen to me, Ford McGuire. I’ll be watching you like a hawk. There’s a time and a place for pranks, but a wedding isn’t one of them.”
The woman retreated to the couch, still shaking her head. “First, Addie goes and plays groomsman, and now she puts a man in her wedding party. Why are kids these days so set on bucking tradition? If you ask me, there’s nothing wrong with a little tradition.”
The way Addie pinched the bridge of her nose suggested she’d been dealing with this all day. “There’s also nothing wrong with making new traditions, Mom.”
“I’d hoped getting engaged might help you grow up. Become a lady.”
“Nope and nope, but thanks for your concern. Now, remember how much you love to decorate?” Murph lifted a disturbingly familiar purple wedding binder. “And how I gave you and Lexi free rein as long as you respected my other choices for the ceremony? I.e., my dude of honor, no rehearsal dinner, and absolutely no dancing to be done by me.”
“But I found the perfect song and—”
Addie raised an eyebrow.
Priscilla harrumphed and then took the binder. “Violet, you said that you’ve seen this done before with roses, right?”
Violet slipped her hand out of Ford’s and moved to study the picture. “Yep. Lexi and I were talking earlier, and we can fill the fishbowls with water and tea lights and put daisies in place of the roses. It’s going to be stunning. Like I said, I’d planned to do that same thing for my wedding, but with violets.”
Lead filled Ford’s veins, and his feet cemented themselves to the floor.My weddingflashed across his vision like one of those red emergency news tickers, over and over, raising his blood pressure.
“You’re sure you have enough?” Priscilla asked.
“Positive.” Violet settled next to Addie’s mom on the couch. “I have these same fishbowls in storage—I bought several at a craft store on clearance. Plus, every time I was a bridesmaid, people handed me a box and told me I could use them at my wedding.”
There it was again.My wedding, my wedding, my wedding.
“Which clearly didn’t happen,” Violet continued, “but I’d feel better about buying and storing them these past few years if they went to a cause as amazing as Addie’s wedding.”
Priscilla scribbled something on a Post-it note and stuck it to the plastic cover. “And you’ll get them from your storage unit in Florida next week?”
