ChapterEleven
Alec
I wanted to follow her,but when I saw Vicky take off in the same direction, I figured it was a chance for the two of them to talk, maybe. I don’t blame Matilda one bit for wanting to leave. She’s held on way longer than I would have. Now that the duo is back, I guess I was right. They’re both smiling. They seem, well, better.
On the other hand, Annabelle Russo sounds exhausted, and there hasn’t even been a wedding yet. She announces, “Let’s get this walk-through done quickly. The photographer will be here in twenty minutes to take pictures of the wedding party, and Vicky still needs to get dressed.”
We all line up in our respective order. Matilda and I are going right before the bride.
Vicky’s mom is in front of all of us. “We’re just going to do this quickly since Matilda didn’t get to rehearse for the ceremony. When you get to the center where you’ll do your dance moves, just pause there for a few seconds, then move on.”
One by one, five couples do their thing, walking up the aisle before us. When the fifth takes off, I feel my stomach flip. I don’t know why the fuck I’m nervous now; all we’re doing is walking up to the front. I step out first. When I get to my spot. I stop and turn. Matilda limps up to me as I extend my arms. We pause like we’re told and head up to the front. Vicky proceeds down the aisle next to her father. I glance at my brother. He’s smiling like an idiot. Jesus, the guy really does have it bad. At the front, Vicky pretends to hand Matilda her bouquet as she turns to face my brother.
“That’s it,” Mrs. Russo announces. “Vicky, you need to get dressed. Everyone else, just—” She waves her hand around. “—sit. Stand. Whatever. Just don’t wrinkle your attire.” She follows Vicky down the aisle, and out they go.
“Psst.” My head follows the sound. Matilda. “You want to go practice one more time?”
“Yes.” Shit, yes.
“Come on.” She waves her hand for me to follow. I’m not sure where she’s leading me, but I trust she knows where she’s going. Out the main part of the church, Matilda takes a right and opens a door that leads to the basement. I follow her down a long set of stairs. At the bottom, we turn left.
“Do you know where you’re going?”
“Yeah. I’ve been here a bunch for family weddings. Everyone gets married here.” Matilda pushes open a door into a dark room. “Hang on. I know there’s a light switch somewhere.” I pull my phone out and hit the flashlight to help guide her. “There it is.”
When the lights flicker on, I see we’re in a large, open room about twenty-four by thirty. Plenty of room for our practice. “We don’t have long.” She steps into the middle of the room. “Should we practice the waltz first or just go right for the stupid aisle dance?”
I chuckle at her words. “The stupid aisle dance. We can practice the waltz later.”
“Good plan. Let’s hurry. We can’t be late for pictures.”
* * *
“Fine.”“Thank fuckthat’sover.”
You think I made that comment, don’t you? Nope. It was my brother Adrian. We’re standing on a huge-ass patio of the country club that’s the site of Anthony and Vicky’s wedding reception. He’s right, we’re done with everything. Well, almost done. Both of those fucking dances, done. We did the waltz right away. As soon as we were dropped off at the door by the limo, we made our way onto the dance floor. Vicky and Anthony started off on their own and, on cue, the rest of us joined them. I was happy Matilda and I had practiced. Because of that, we didn’t stand out among the group.
People must’ve enjoyed it because there was a ton of clapping and a standing ovation afterward, which I thought was a bit overkill. After that, we all made our way to the long table with just enough seats for the bride, groom, and the wedding party. Guys all sat on Anthony’s side of the table while the ladies were opposite. I guess that’s customary. Part of me wished Matilda was sitting next to me. I would’ve had someone other than my dipshit brothers to talk to while we ate. During the meal, we raised our glasses a few times, toasting the bride and groom. When our plates were removed, it was time for speeches. I came prepared with one I wrote several weeks prior to coming home. I felt it was both heartfelt and humorous. I got a few laughs in the right places, so I’d call that a success, especially compared to Matilda’s.
That poor woman.
I shake my head slowly back and forth. “I don’t think anyone told her.”
“Told her what? Who are we talking about?” asked Angelo.
“Matilda. Nobody told her she had to speak since she was the new maid of honor.”
Angelo snorts. “Is that what happened?” He chuckles. “Jesus. Trainwreck.”
“What do you mean?” Setting my glass of bourbon down onto the concrete railing, I’m about to face off with my brother.
“Her speech, Alec. It was a trainwreck.” He slapped my shoulder. “But you know what wasn’t a trainwreck?”
I know what he’s about to say.
“Your dancing.” His face is beaming. “How the fuck did you pull that off? You were a goddamn disaster during rehearsals.”
Matilda. “Practice.”
