Then he turned and said, “Oh hey, tomorrow night I’m having a party at the winery. Small bites and all-you-can-drink Ô wine. Some friends, friends of friends. I know it’s pretty far, but if you’re around, maybe you’d like to come by? Sevenish.” Reading her growing shock, presumably, he added, “Not a date. Just a party.”
Ani swallowed. He was inviting her to a party with a bunch of his friends. Not a date, true, but it still somehow felt…she didn’t know. Intimate.
“Um, maybe,” she said. God, that sounded like a no, and she didn’t want it to sound like a no. “It’s far, but who knows, maybe something will come up on the site and I’ll be there.” That wasn’t much better. She tried yet again, “Sounds like a great night. I want to come, if I can.”
Raffi gave the tiniest smile. “Happy to hear it.”
Then he walked away, and somehow Ani felt she could deal with Kami and the rest of the wedding dresses now.
She also thought she should make an important call to Nareh soon.
9
Ani
It was Saturdayafternoon, and Ani’s sister, Talar, had one hour of time when she wasn’t working, so the five of them (their parents, Talar, and Talar’s husband, Nshan) gathered at their parents’ house for an early dinner.
Ani was currently in full kid mode. Splayed on her parents’ couch, eating manti. She had helped make them at least. She and her mother had cheated and used premade wonton wrappers for the dough, so they weren’t as perfect as when her grandma Yiayia made them, but still, they ended up delicious.
It was a clear, cold afternoon, and the sun was setting, filling her childhood home with golden light. Ani had survived the rest of the wedding fitting with Kami and her family, and then she went home to work on more aspects of Kami and Grace’s wedding the rest of the day.
The fitting. It had been on track to be a huge disaster, with Ani losing all sense of professionalism…until Raffi. He’d waltzed in like a savior, right when she’d needed him. She didn’t know she’d needed him.
The way he listened to her, the way he continued to buckevery stereotype she’d imagined (besides the way he dressed, which was still, very much, to impress). There was something about Raffi.
That’s why she needed to call her friend Nareh, who had originally warned her off the guy. Ani had Talar’s secondhand perspective; now she needed Nareh’s firsthand one. Really, she needed to confirm that the Raffi she knew was, in fact, the same person Nareh had cautioned her about. But that call could wait.
For now, she had one other unpleasant order of business. Ani still hadn’t told her sister or family whose wedding she was planning.
Her mother hovered over Nshan, asking in Armenian, “Would you like more, my son?”
“Yes, please, that would be great,” he said with a smile.
Ani bristled somewhat. Nshan was fine, always in a good mood, but he was just too…comfortable being doted on. He didn’t so much as once put a plate in the sink. But Talar never said a single negative word about him, so maybe she was fine with it.
When her mom had refilled Nshan’s plate and finally sat to eat herself, Ani said, “So, that new luxury wedding I booked. Did I, uh, tell you whose wedding it is?”
“No, tsakougus,” her mother said.
“Someone we know?” Talar raised an eyebrow. Her parents might have been oblivious, but Talar, the lawyer, was not. She drank her tahn and kept her eyes trained on Ani.
“You could say that. It’s actually a funny story. I didn’t realize who had booked it because it’s two brides, and I’d only talked to one of the brides. This actress, Grace.”
“An actress! How very interesting,” said her father. “Anything we know her in?”
“Not unless you’re into indie films,” Ani said.
“What is ‘indie’?” Bab whispered to Mom.
Ani smiled, then continued. “But then I got to the venue and met the other bride and it was—well, it was Kami.”
Talar choked on her tahn, and it appeared to go straight up her nose because she grabbed a napkin and coughed and blew. Her father jumped up to pat Talar on her back. Nshan surveyed the scene with mild interest.
“Who’s Kami?” he asked.
Ani rolled her eyes. He had met Kami twice, a few weeks before the breakup.
“Her—” came Talar’s strained voice. She coughed and appeared to regain her composure. “Ex-girlfriend! The one who broke her heart into a thousand pieces.” Now she rounded on Ani, and Ani knew how opposing counsel felt standing across from Talar. “You’re planning her wedding? Are you out of your mind?”
