Page 82 of My Best Friend's Brother

“I know.”

But it was sweet to see how Will had come up for me, defended me against them. He told me how my father had asked him about the drama with Jade and if he was going to want to have children with me.

“Because we want grandchildren, lots of them!” My dad had apparently said.

“But he said yes, he gave us their blessing,” Will said, clearly pleased.

I looked at my engagement ring, which I had picked out myself. It wasn’t the biggest diamond or the grandest setting, but it suited me. The moment I’d seen it at the jeweler, I’d known it was my ring.

Another reason we wanted to get married,was to give Zoë the family stability that she’d craved. After Jade had taken her, we took her for trauma counseling and one thing that emerged from these sessions was Zoë’s desire for a mother figure in her life. Even though I would be only a stepmother, Zoë had come to see me in a more favorable light after her biological mother’s behavior. We heard later how Jade had taken Zoë after school to see a friend and borrow her car. It wasn’t entirely clear if the friend knew that Jade was borrowing her car, though, as Jade told Zoë to run to the car. Once Jade was behind the wheel she kept talking and laughing so much that she didn’t see the traffic lights change color and once almost hit a pedestrian crossing the road.

Zoë had started to feel scared. She wanted her daddy and to be home with her cats, but Jade said at the new house there would be bunny rabbits and horses and plenty of wild cats. But when they’d arrived at the house it was cold and dark and Zoë had been scared, so Jade had made her drink some bitter medicine to help her sleep.

Will brought Zoë to the inn and we spent a weekend playing with bunny rabbits and going on pony rides and eating pancakes and waffles and whatever Zoë wanted.

“Can you come back to live with us?” she asked me one afternoon, as we sat in the kitchen drinking hot chocolate. We only had one guest staying with us and she was upstairs resting after a plastic surgery op. She wouldn’t be seen downstairs until the worst bruising was gone.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” I asked.

Zoë nodded.

“Because I want to come back as soon as I can. But only if you want.”

“Then can you make us dinner again?” Zoë asked, hopefully.

I laughed. “Sarah’s cooking isn’t working for you?”

Zoë shook her head vigorously. “I miss your fried chicken,” she said longingly. “And noodles. With ham and cheese, and macaroni and cheese.”

“You haven’t been eating noodles?” I said surprised because I thought pasta was back on the good foods list.

“They’re made with egg, she said,” Zoë explained mournfully. Sarah was vegan.

Ah, those sneaky eggs.

And so, while it wasn’t traditional wedding food, I convinced Will that we needed to have pasta on the menu.

Plenty of pasta.

Ravioli and cannelloni and of course, macaroni and cheese.

“What?!” Simone was beside herself. “I was going to offer you my catering services for the reception and now you are talking about feeding guests mac ’n cheese!”

“It’s for Zoë,” Will explained and Simone couldn’t argue with that.

But she did ask me later if I was sure about this.

“This is your wedding after all,” she said. “Is this really what you want?”

But all I wanted was Will.

I didn’t care what we ate, or what I wore or who was invited.

I picked the inn in the summertime for the location, as the grass would be green, and the garden was lush. I loved the way the sun shone through the trees and my brothers sweated in their linen suits. I loved the way Simone huffed and puffed when she saw the kitchen staff cooking a cheese sauce that was nowhere near her standards. I loved how there wasn’t enough room on the tables outside for the heavy platters of pasta and salads, and how every time a piece of garlic bread rolled off the table, one of Allie’s dogs would rush in to grab a piece.

It was perfect.

The only thing I was slightly nervous about, was the honeymoon.

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