Page 85 of Love at Teamsgiving
No such luck. Shane’s mother taps her fork on her glass, indicating it’s our turn.
Junie and I get to our feet. We’re standing shoulder to shoulder. A united front. There are only about twenty-five people here in addition to us and the soon-to-be newlyweds.
I squeeze her pinky and whisper, “We got this.”
She squeezes back.
Louder, I say, “First, I want to say, it’s an honor to be part of Shane and Erica’s special weekend as they embark on their lives as husband and wife.”
Junie taps in, “They’re an amazing example of what love, commitment, and happiness look like.”
“From the moment Shane told me about meeting a cute nursing student while doing rounds at the teaching hospital, I knew she’d be the one.”
“Despite the exhausting schedule, Erica would meet me for coffee with a big smile on her face. I knew something was up.”
“Now, here we are—” A pair of phones beeping interrupts me.
Junie elbows me.
The sound comes again, more insistent.
“Why didn’t you turn off your phone?” she hisses.
“I thought I did.”
She continues, “To see their relationship bloom has been such a joy.”
The beep comes again and I realize the security system alerts have a different setting to mute them than the main volume button.
“It’s the salon,” I whisper.
Junie stiffens beside me.
I raise my glass. “Shane, Erica, may your lives together be filled with happiness, adventure, and cherished memories ... and no cell phone interrupts. Cheers! Excuse us.”
Everyone erupts into applause. Although I’m much faster on skates, I grab my phone from the table and rush toward my car as I scan the security footage. Only, it’s a false alarm. Or, I should say a squirrel alarm. Slowing my pace, Junie catches up to me.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing. Just that squirrel again.”
“Phew. But we almost ruined their toast.”
“At least we weren’t bickering.”
“Not much.” She swipes her bangs across her forehead.
Her thick eyelashes fringe her dark eyes and her full eyebrows smooth. If I were a Renaissance painter, she’d be a masterpiece. As it is, Junie is my muse.
I mouth,You’re my one and only.
She smiles and says, “I’ve been telling myself every day for over fourteen months that I’m not still in love with you.”
Before I can add more, our phones beep again. It better be the squirrel.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Erica and Shane’swedding cake is seasonal confection perfection rising out of the dessert bar like a pumpkin spice lover’s dream. It’s surrounded by macarons, cake pops, blondie bites, and mini cinnamon buns.
