Mom raises a sly eyebrow. “Whatever you say, Nolan.”
I pivot on my heel to head back to the bridal party dais, feeling light, knowing I’ve just secured myself, hopefully, at least seven more years of Sundays.
CeeCee turns to me when I’ve sat. “You’ve barely touched your food.”
“Yeah, been busy socializing,” I say. This time around at dinner, I don’t take the passive-aggressive care of our distant relatives to heart. I accept their concern as love manifested in a way that may not be helpful to me, but feels right to them.
Just this small change in attitude has opened me up to the joys of the day. But I pull back from being an overbearing attention hog. This is CeeCee’s show. I’m only a supporting act, and this time, I like it that way.
“You have been unusually chipper,” she says. “You’re not high, are you?”
“Nope,” I assure her. “Just high on love.” That statement sends my eyes darting over to Drew, who is midconversation with my great-aunt Laurel, a woman with a southern drawl and a penchant for Hallmark movies. She’s blushing, which means only one thing. He’s turned on the signature Drew Techler boyish charm.
“I didn’t expect you to bring Drew,” she says.
“Neither did I,” I reply. “But life is like that. Surprising sometimes.” I take a deep breath. “Dad seems good today.”
“Yeah,” CeeCee says, raking her fork through steaming farro.
“I don’t want to work for Doop,” I confess abruptly. CeeCee’s eyes go wide, but I cut her off before she can speak. “ButI am demanding better-paying, more consistent work at the club. I can still pursue comedy without making it my entire personality. Without ruthlessly chasing after it at the sacrifice of everything else in my life.”
“That’s…very mature of you,” CeeCee says, taken aback.
“And I know things have been hard on you, helping Mom out with Dad’s health.”
She leans in, whispers, “How did you know about that?”
“I don’t know,” I say because truthfully, there’s no other way to explain it. I learned it from the future? Even I’m not stupid enoughto say that. “I just do, and I’m sorry you’ve been bearing that burden alone. I want to be there for you. I want to be stable enough to help.”
“Wow, I was not expecting you to say that.”
“I love you, CeeCee. I’m here for you. And I’m sorry if I made your life harder by not making that clear,” I say.
There are fresh tears in her eyes, so she turns away and snatches a hanky from James. Blotting at her eyes, she says, “Waterproof, my ass.” She laughs. “I love you too, Nolan.”
“Oh, and if, when this is all over”—I paint the air with my palm—“you’re still drowning at Doop over the promotion they gave you, maybe find a new job.” I don’t bring up how the business might not even exist in a few years. I don’t know how my change in actions will butterfly-effect out. Either way, I don’t want her to take it as a jab. I’m only looking out for her. Always and forever now.
“Wait, how did you know aboutthat?” She clearly thinks I’m a mind reader. I can live with that assumption.
I suppress a chuckle. “Let’s just say I had an inkling it would be coming sooner or later. And now that we’ve had this lovely bonding moment, it’s perfect timing for me to make my post-dinner mister of honor speech, and…” I show her my cracked phone screen, which blinks the time. Damn, I really do need to get that fixed now that I’m resigned to being a new kind of adult. “Right on time.” I know CeeCee loves nothing more than a perfectly aligned schedule, and I’m finally getting this timing thing down pat.
I stand and tap the butter knife to my champagne flute like I’ve seen supporting characters do in countless romantic comedies. A hush falls over the room as utensils are put down; hands and heads turn in my direction. The band leader runs me a microphone.
Clearing my throat, overcome with both emotion and gratitude, a thought pops into mind: this was the gig of a lifetime to begin with.No stage in the world could compare to uplifting my dearest family and friends with amusing anecdotes and well-timed,kindjokes.
So I speak from the heart.
And I absolutely, positivelycrush it.
Chapter Forty-Three
When the confetti clears, CeeCee and James have left for their honeymoon, and “Doop There It Is” has finished rattling the floorboards, the jazz band takes the stage once more.
“This one goes out to Nolan Baker and a very special someone,” says the lead singer, a Judy Garland look-alike, as she pulls the microphone from its stand.
A cover of “You Make Me Feel So Young” starts, and I zip through the crowd to where Drew is standing, holding CeeCee’s bridal bouquet, which he caught on the fly. I may or may not have hip-checked him into it, knowing his height would reign supreme over the bridesmaids in attendance.
“Would you do the mister of honor the honor of this dance?” I ask, palm upturned toward him. Gentlemanly.
