I glared at him.
“That’s not better, is it?”
“I’m a vegetarian. And an animal activist.”
Everett’s eyes bounced between us like he was watching a tennis match.
“Well,” Chris said slowly, “I’m sure we have some vegetarian footballs. We have a lot of footballs. Maybe you could show me which ones are okay?”
I knew he was just being nice. There was no such thing as a vegetarian football. But he was trying so hard, and nobody tried that hard with me except Lulu.
“Yeah. Okay, that would be...cool,” I said.
Chris’s whole face relaxed. “Cool, good. It would be fun to have a friend next door.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “It really would.”
April appeared beside us, Isak now sleeping against her shoulder. “Chris, why don’t you show Trixie the tire swing while I finish talking to her mom? And Everett, no tackling. We’re making a good impression.”
“I never tackle,” Everett said, clearly lying.
April laughed and squeezed my shoulder as she passed. Her hand was warm, and she smelled like vanilla and something floral. “I have a feeling you’re going to fit right in around here, Trixie.”
All I knew, standing in the Colorado sunshine with my new neighbors, was that my stomach finally felt okay. Better than okay. It felt like tiny bubbles...the good kind.
“Come on,” Chris said, already heading toward his yard. “The tire swing is really high. You’re not scared of heights, are you?”
“No,” I said, following him. “I’m not scared of anything.”
It was a lie, but Chris didn’t need to know that yet.
YOU HAD ME AT COCKADOODLE DOO
TRIXIE
Ipeeked out the crack in the tent, trying to see what was happening, but Ciara had set up the bridal tent down the hill from the festivities where nosy grooms couldn’t catch a peek at their brides. Never mind what he had already peeked this morning, and would hopefully peek a few more times tonight.
I couldn’t wait to see him at the altar.
Jules had left a few minutes ago to get Luke, while the rest of my bridesmaids, Kelsey, Willa, Penny, and Mina, and my matron of honor Lulu drank champagne and nibbled on snacks. The girls looked amazing in 1950s-style dresses in different colors to match my bouquet.
“You’re going to wear a hole in that tent,” Lulu said, coming up beside me with two glasses of champagne. She handed me one. “Drink. You look like you’re about to vibrate out of your skin.”
“I’m fine. I’m totally fine.” I took a sip. Then a longer one. “Okay, I’m a little nervous.”
“You’re marrying your best friend, Trix. The guy who’s been in love with you since we were ten years old.” She clinked her glass against mine. “This is the easy part.”
She was right. Lulu was always right. It was annoying, in the best kind of way.
I felt like Audrey Hepburn in my ballerina-length dress, a Rose Vond original that made me want to twirl every time I caught my reflection. I was definitely glad we had decided to go in this direction instead of worrying about a fancier dress with a train getting dragged around a barnyard. Ciara Mosley-Willingham was a matrimonial genius. I felt better every time I thought about her being our wedding planner.
Speaking of Ciara, she walked into the tent with her assistant Wes, both holding their tablets, and announced that there were seven minutes till showtime.
“Okay, ladies, snack time is over. Everybody choose a buddy, check your teeth. Any food stuck? No. Lipstick intact? Great. Check the girls. Are they properly strapped in and have their tray tables in the upright position? Great. We will have no nip slips at the altar. If you need toothpicks, dress tape, breath mints, or extra deodorant, Wes here has you covered.”
Wes opened the flaps of his jacket like he was trying to sell us watches, revealing pockets containing all the aforementioned items.
Jules came in at that moment with Luke, and Ciara demanded she smile before stepping closer to check her out. “Good. Teeth and dress look great.”
