“I always thought wedding cake tasted like sugared Crisco.”
“You must have been to all the wrong weddings.”
“So we show up and eat the cake? That’s the goal?”
“That’s my goal.”
Duke checked the time. “I’ll bet most wedding parties are wrapping up by now. Well, actually…I’ve got a cousin who does catering. Want me to call her to see if she’s working anywhere tonight?”
“Yes, please.” The tiniest thrill of excitement shot through me as he phoned her, and I immediately tried to push the feeling away.
“Alright, thanks, Jess. See you in a bit.” Duke ended his call and tossed his phone on the dash of his truck. “Okay, my cousin, Jess, is working at a party in the downtown event center here in town, and she said they have the place rented all night, and it’s starting to get crazy. Sound good?”
I sat on my hands. “Sounds perfect.”
He pulled his truck out onto Main Street. “So, from what I know about you, this bucket list item surprises me. You don’t seem like the party type.”
“Don’t let my love of wedding reception food fool you. I’m not.”
“So…what’s our end game?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is it the thought of getting away with something that’s appealing about this? Or are we playing a part?”
I thought about his question. I had no real interest in playing a part. What was it about sneaking into a reception and basically eating food we weren’t invited to eat that appealed to me so much? A safe way to sew some wild oats I never got to sew in my childhood, perhaps?
“I’m not sure,” I said, looking out the window as we drove downtown, watching the lights and the motion of nightlife blurring past my window.
“Here’s the thing,” he began. “I’m down for this, but I think we need to make it a little more interesting.”
I gave him a wary look. “What?”
“I think we need to go full-outWeddingCrashers—we eat the food, dance on the dance floor, tell guests stories about the bride and groom, hug the mother of the bride…that kind of thing. Our goal here is to make memories and do the unexpected. Sneaking into a reception and grabbing a slice of cake isn’t something I’ll remember in five years.”
“I already gave you the kiss cam. You’ve got plenty of material you’ll remember in five years.”
He laughed. “I think I gaveyouthe kiss cam.”
“It was definitely a joint effort.”
“Fair enough. So what do you say, Nora? You up for goingWeddingCrasherson this reception?”
There it was again…that yearning to be reckless. To do something off-kilter. Throw my tidy world off its axis. There had never been a guy that had so much sway over me. Was it like a gateway drug? One approving smile from Duke and now I’d do whatever he asked? Or was it the idea that I’d probably never see him again that made our night seem full of possibilities? Full of the unknown.
Ah, dang it.
I was going to say yes.
* * *
The motherof the groom was named Sandy, and it turned out she was a delight. Of course, if the whispers throughout the venue were true, she was six glasses of wine into the evening by the time we showed up and had been living up the night, dancing with every available—and sometimes not available—male in the building, if not to have a good time, then to most definitely stick it to her ex-husband who was at the wedding with a tall, young, and very attractive red-head.
Duke and I were sipping our drinks on the side of the dance floor after casually stuffing our faces with two slices of cake each, which Duke had deemed delicious, when Sandy shimmied up to us. She wore a sparkly cream-colored dress that glistened in the disco lights above. Her dark-blonde hair had been pulled up in what looked like an elegant updo, but after two hours of dancing, it looked more like a deflated balloon.
“I don’t know you two,” she proclaimed loudly as she draped her arms around our shoulders. “Tell me your names. How do you know my sweet Timmy?”
We had already concluded Tim was the name of the groom, based on a picture the size of a small school bus with a sign above reading Tim and Jori, Forever in Love—which was ironic because we had just witnessed the happy couple shouting and swearing at each other in the hallway after a very spirited and messy cutting of the cake.
