Kelsey:Well, I just love the letter you sent in, Jason, about you and Dottie, and I’d love for you to tell the listeners how you two became meant to be.
Dottie:Please note, anything he says is going to be exaggerated, so take it with a grain of—
Jason:It was a dark, morbidly chilly evening in Chicago, where everyone was searching for hope and love.
Dottie:Oh, dear God, here we go.
* * *
“Are you nervous?”I ask Lottie as we stand outside on the patio of Huxley’s and her house.
For the reception, they had the pool covered in a clear surface, decorated it with seven tables, and added some soft, pink uplighting on the stone walls of the fence. Strings of flowers make for a faux ceiling, while two cellists are tucked off to the side, adding sophistication to the intimate night.
It’s family and friends, that’s it.
The original plan was for me to stay here tonight with Lottie and get ready in the morning, but Huxley wanted nothing to do with being apart from Lottie, so I’m spending the night at JP’s place. I’ll make the short walk here in the morning, where we’ll all get ready, Ellie, the other bridesmaid, included.
Thankfully, she has no ill feelings toward me, given I ditched her brother. She said he understood completely and had wondered if someone else had been on my mind when we’d gone out. I feel bad that I didn’t give him all my attention, but from what Ellie has said, he’s dating someone right now who lives in Hawaii, and he’s enjoying the “commute.”
Lottie exhales next to me and then knocks back her champagne, emptying the flute. “Am I nervous? Not really.” She speaks quietly, keeping the conversation just between us. “I’m not nervous about my choice. Without a doubt, Huxley is the man for me. I can’t wait to be married to him. I’m just nervous about all the fanfare, you know? I really wish we just got married back here tonight, and then we could go on our honeymoon, but I understand Huxley wanted more of a traditional wedding.”
“The ceremony will be short, and then you get to party. That will be so much fun.”
“True. Plus, tomorrow we’re going to have fun getting ready, right? Did you get those Mad Libs I sent you a link to? The bridal ones?”
“I did. I have them in my bag of things to do tomorrow. Can’t wait to insertboobandpenisinto every category.”
“Don’t forgetfuck—that can be a verb, noun, adjective... it’s universal.”
“Yes, there will be tons of fucks, boobs, and penises.”
“Good.” She taps my hand and then looks me in the eyes. “I’m getting married tomorrow. How crazy is that? It feels like just the other day I was attempting to find ways to drive Huxley nuts to get me out of our contract.”
“I know. I still remember you telling me you’d met someone and were going to discuss terms over chips and guac at Chipotle.”
“I think that’s what won me over—he paid extra for guac.”
I laugh just as Huxley stands in front of everyone and taps his glass. The small group quiets, and the cellists stop playing. With one hand in his pocket, the other holding a tumbler of beer, Huxley addresses the backyard.
“Thank you so much for coming tonight and for being a part of our special day tomorrow.” His eyes land on Lottie. “A few months ago, I made a business mistake that I thought was going to cost me our company’s reputation. I did everything I could to recover, including convincing this random girl I met on the sidewalk to pretend to be my fake fiancée. I thought I was so clever, getting this woman to be by my side and act like the doting fiancée I needed. Little did I fucking know that I was in way over my head. She was headstrong, breathtakingly beautiful, and the biggest challenge of my life, and I quickly fell for the girl who was supposed to be temporary. But tomorrow... tomorrow she becomes my forever. Leiselotte, you’re the love of my life, and you make me happier than I could ever imagine.” I grip my sister’s hand tightly. “You’re doing me the greatest honor of my life tomorrow, by becoming my wife. I promise you, no matter what comes our way, I’ll always be the man you deserve. I love you.”
Lottie swipes at the tears on her cheeks. She stands from her chair, grips Huxley by the cheeks, and kisses him deeply.
As I watch them, completely and utterly in love, a warm hand grips my shoulder before smoothing down my back. “Hey,” JP says, taking a seat next to me. “I feel like I haven’t seen you all night.”
I turn toward him, our legs twining together as I scoot in closer. “I know, but I like that I saw you and Jeff having a good time, or at least what seemed like a good time.”
JP takes my hand in his and rests it on his lap, his other hand resting over my thigh. “We were talking about Jason Orson and his new potato salad. I told him Jason sent some over to you, and Jeff said he actually read an article in thePlayer’s Tribune, written by Jason’s best friend and brother-in-law Cory Potter—they both play for the Chicago Rebels—about Jason and his love for his potato salad. The dude has been claiming it’s the best since college. I’m stoked to listen to your episode, actually.”
“How did I forget Jeff is a big baseball fan? I feel like I’m failing. I should’ve gotten Jason to send over a signed ball or something.”
“But, babe, that would be against all that he believes in. He’s a Los Angeles Rook through and through.”
“True.”
“I told him that I’d take him to a game soon. He’s always dreamed of sitting behind the backstop, so I figured I’d treat him.”
“Oh my God, he’ll lose it. You’d seriously do that?”
