Page 73 of The Boyfriend List
In an alternate universe, my older sister’s wedding would be one of the happiest days for my family.
But since we’re the Youngs, I’m picking up dog poop at six am.
Being a devoted younger brother, I agreed to walk Savannah’s teacup Chihuahua, Sparkles, while she got her beauty sleep before taking a leisurely limousine ride to the hotel where she’ll be getting ready. What she didn’t tell me is that Sparkles produces as much waste as a Golden Retriever ten times his size.
Hence, I’ve run through four of the little pink poop bags attached to Sparkles’ glittery white leash and I’m praying that he will finally stop dragging me toward an interesting-smelling puddle on the sidewalk before I’ve fully finished scraping his waste off the grass.
After a twenty-minute walk, I unlock Savvy’s back gate, lead Sparkles inside, and throw all the poop bags away.
I wash my hands in her pool house. She and her fiancé are both hotshot entertainment lawyers, so they can afford a mansion with a pool house. Sparkles whines as I leave from the gate, trying to block my exit.
Fortunately, Savannah’s housekeeper opens the French doors, holding a pink dog bowl filled with kibble. Sparkles bounds inside.
Crisis averted.
Now onto the next task.
All my family members claimed they’re all way too busy with work, children, and/or spouses to run errands. So, I have the following to-do list:
Walk Savannah’s dog.
Pick up boutonnieres from the florist for me, Perry, Troy, and Brooklyn.
Grab migraine pills from the pharmacist forMom.
Tell Mom that if she watched less TV, she wouldn’t have migraines (on behalf of Dad).
Pick up Dad’s suit from the dry-cleaners.
So yes, I’m my family’s errand boy, but it’s worth it. When Savannah finally ties the knot five hours from now, I’ll see their smiling faces and neatly pressed suits and matching boutonnieres. Our big, happy family.
I drive to the florist’s shop on autopilot and park with no memory of how I got there. Their sign says they open in half an hour. I’d sleep now, but I’m worried that’ll make me more tired. Instead, I call Gloria, knowing she’s an early riser like me. Maybe not as early as I rose today—I’ve been up since five, and I feel every minute of my missed sleep—but still early.
She answers the phone, a sleepy tone stretching her syllables through a yawn. I picture her with her hair mussed and wearing a cute eye mask. I’d like to wake up to her every day. “Hey, Gloucester. What are you doing up this early on a Saturday? Wait. Don’t tell me. It’s for Savannah’s wedding, right?”
“Not for another four hours, but yes.”
“Are you telling me you need four hours in hair and makeup to look presentable?” she teases.
“I wish I was sitting in a makeup chair right now,” I tease. “But Sav’s got me running around the city doing errands. Well, actually, my whole family does.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. My brothers need me to grab the boutonnieres from the florist, Sav asked me to walk her dog this morning—”
“Wait, can’t her fiancé walk her dog? I thought they lived together.”
“They’re being ‘traditional’ and sleeping separately the night before the wedding,” I say with a yawn. A fatigue-induced headache throbs at my temples, and I wish I’d made myself a coffee in Sav’s pool house as well.
“Haven’t they been together for, like, six years?” Gloria asks with a giggle. She must really have just woken up. I never hear her use the word ‘like’ or any other filler words. Law school training beat it out of us. We had a professor who made us repeat our sentences properly every time we used filler words such as ‘like’ or ‘literally.’
“Yeah,” I say. I don’t want to think or talk about my family right now. Now that I have her on the line, I just want to hear her voice. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No, I was already up, just refusing to get out of bed.” She gives a little groan that makes me wonder what it would be like to wake up next to her. To see a vulnerable, softer side of her that no one else gets to see. “But I’m up now. Making coffee and everything.”
We chat for a few more minutes, and I give her the rundown of my morning so far, including Sparkles trying to drag me across the street when he spotted a massive husky that he wanted to play with. Never mind that the huge dog was oblivious to his presence.
“Well, the florist is open now, so I’ll see you in a few hours. I’ll come pick you up at ten-thirty? That way we’ll have enough time to get to the venue and find parking.”
