Page 87 of That Time I Kissed The Groomsman Grump
She glances up, her blue eyes finding mine. “And you didn’t want to influence me, either, right?” Her cheeks are flushed in the humid air. “You thought I should make my own decision.”
“Definitely true.” My pulse is racing now, sped up by all the potential ahead of us. Natalie knows being near Beau and Kasey will be temporary at best. Maybe this will change things. Maybe this will change everything.Somuch ground to cover.
“One step. Two steps. Breathe… and waltz!” my mother shrieks.
“But I still have to go to California,” Natalie says softly, and my gut twists. “I signed a contract.”
We’re almost to the gazebo now, and definitely within earshot of the rest of the groomsmen.
“Let Natalie go!” my mother hollers.
“See you soon,” Nat whispers as I release her. She flashes me a half smile, but my chest is a vise, constricting slowly.I don’t want to let you go. As I take my spot next to Beau, he cocks his head, eyeing me up and down.
“You okay, man?”
“You’re the groom,” I say. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
“Yeah. Well. Maybe. But you look… weird. Queasy. Like you might keel over or—”
“I’m just not used to being on display like this.”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Sensitive.” Beau smirks. “This will all be over soon.”
Mac leans over to us, chuckling. “I like secrets too.” It’s an homage to Buddy fromElf, one of the cousins’ favorite movies. Meanwhile, the rest of the wedding party is making their way down the aisle—one stepping, two stepping, breathing… and waltzing. Except for Daisy, who stops every few yards to hop. Slung over her arm, she’s got a basket decorated with pink ribbons, and she’s tossing handfuls of popcorn out of it.
Beau cocks his head. “Popcorn?”
Mac sighs. “My dear daughter didn’t want to waste rose petals on a rehearsal that wasn’t even a ‘real rehearsal.’ She says the birds will eat the popcorn.” He shrugs. “Brooke and I decided not to argue with an elementary schooler.”
“Good call,” I say. When I steal another glance across the gazebo at Natalie, she’s already looking at me. My stomach clenches. This could be the beginning of something. Or the end of us. Depends on how well I plead my case later.
“Ahem!” My mom and Mrs. Slater clear their throats to get everyone’s attention, then they nod at the direction of the inn and start humming the wedding march. Very loudly. Very off-key. That’s because Kasey and my dad are coming down the aisle now. One step. Two steps. Breathe… waltz. This is my baby sister and my father. They’re practicing the moment he’ll give her away, and the moment she’ll give herself to Beau. Forever.
My best friend and my little sister.
Beyond distance, beyond career changes, that’s another roadblock for Natalie and me to overcome. It’s not insurmountable, but itissomething we’d have to face. In twenty-four hours, Beau and Kasey will be married. And if Natalie and I tried to make a go of it and we failed… it could be so public. More painful.
My guts are in knots.
Failure is something I’ve been afraid of for as long as I can remember. Failing with relationships. Failing in my career. Failing to make my parents proud. Failing at promises I’ve made. So I stayed paralyzed here in Abieville. No changing jobs. No stepping outside my comfort zone. No compromises at all. This meant no failure. But for once, something besides failing is even more frightening.
A future with no Natalie.
“All right everyone,” my mother pipes up when the bridesmaids are finally lined up alongside Kasey. Olivia’s making eyes at Hawk. Tess and Darby jockey for space. Amber meets my gaze, and I cock my head.
You okay?I mouth.
She nods, flashing me a thumbs-up.
“This is when Nella will sing tomorrow,” my mother announces, and Nella begins to step forward out of line. My mother shoos her back. “Tonight we’re going to skip that for the sake of time and Big Mama’s hips.”
“What about my hips?” Big Mama hoots. We all turn to look at my grandmother. She’s a puff of white hair on a scarecrow body, sitting in a folding chair someone must’ve dragged down from the inn. She’s wearing one of her Sunday dresses and clutching a piece of paper in her knobby fingers.
“You said they were aching,” my mother yells.
“Oh, yes.” Big Mama wiggles in her seat. “But only the right one. That means a storm is coming. And my hips don’t lie.”
When Ford and Three nudge each other, snickering, my mother glares at them. “Control yourselves, boys. This is a rehearsal.”
