Page 84 of The Wild Card
“If you told me, I could’ve helped with planning!” Lindy says. “And come to the cake tasting!”
“Me too,” Pat says.
“Same,” I say, though I don’t know how helpful I would have been. I definitely would have gone for a cake tasting.
“I didn’t want anyone to have to do anything,” Winnie says. “It’s going to be simple. Small. Just the way we like it.”
More like: just the wayJameslikes it.
I could absolutely envision Winnie planning a raucous, massive wedding reception with dancing and music and maybe plate throwing—even if she’s not Greek.
But James … that kind of thing would be his nightmare.
Once again, my mind circles back to how relationships involve so much give and take, so much stretching outside of yourself.
I’ve never done that, I realize. Not with Liza or any of the women I’ve dated for any length of time. Not that I was a neglectful boyfriend or didn’t do nice things for the women I dated. I paid for meals, held open doors, called or texted when I said I would.
But I’ve never sacrificed the way Pat has and does for Lindy or the way Winnie and James do for each other. I wonder suddenly, if this is how Tank was with my mom. I’m sure he was. Back then, I wouldn’t have noticed since I was not quitetwelve when Mom died. Too young to see my parents as people or to think about how they showed each other love.
They were happy, though. Like my brothers and their women. Like I am, sitting at this table with Molly by my side.
I hope, though, that this isn’t too much for her. It seems like my family is ever-present, and every time we’ve been with them, there’s some kind of emotional moment happening. And she’s been very quiet since Winnie’s announcement.
“Who’s walking you down the aisle?” Pat asks.
“Chevy?” Lindy asks. She returns to her seat, which had been righted by the waiter who looks like he’s more than ready for us to leave.
Winnie shakes her head. “I asked Tank.”
“Dad knows?” I ask, wondering just how many secrets our father keeps.
“He’s the only other one besides a few of the people we’ve hired for things,” James says.
Winnie turns to Molly. “My parents are both dead. Not that I would have asked my dad anyway.” She swallows and I don’t miss the way James takes her hand and squeezes. Winnie pushes her glasses up and wipes her eyes. “Anyway, that’s a whole long dramatic story I won’t bore you with, but please know you’re invited, Molly.”
“Thank you,” Molly says. She’s smiling, but it falls as soon as Winnie turns back to answer one of the thousand questions Lindy is asking.
Molly’s hands are in her lap, and she’s tying her cloth napkin into a knot, then untying and retying it again.
I dip my head and lean closer. “I’m sorry if my family is a lot,” I murmur. “We’ve got babies, weddings, and tears all around. Are you okay?”
When she turns to face me, our noses brush. I should move back. But I don’t. Neither does she. And if I’m not imaginingthings, her eyes look wet, like tears are on the verge of falling down her cheeks.
“I’m okay,” she says. “Your family is amazing, and you’re lucky to have them.”
I’m about to make some kind of joke when Molly pushes back her chair and bolts across the restaurant toward the bathroom.
CHAPTER 18
Molly
Why doall restaurant paper towels have the consistency of sandpaper?
I’m blotting under my eyes, trying to keep my mascara from smudging everywhere. Had I known dinner would make me so emotional, I’d have worn waterproof. Or brought some tissues in my purse.
Through the first part of the evening, I was overwhelmingly happy, allowing myself to pretend Collin and I are a real couple just like the others at the table. It was almosttooeasy and had me wishing for things I probably shouldn’t, all while feeling warm inside.
Collin kept me close with an arm around my shoulder or his hand brushing mine. He even hooked his foot around mine under the table. He touched me like he couldn’t stand any distance between us, as though he needed my touch. It was the same with James and Winnie or Pat and Lindy. Anyone lookingat our table would have seen three happy couples, and I allowed myself to bask in the moment.
