He did? Brice would have gone ballistic had he thought there was something between me and his baby sister. At least, he would have a decade ago.
I clear my throat and glance back at Stella. She’s so close. I sat her on this counter, and she pulled me in—up close and personal. The air between us has grown warm.
“We reconnected,” I say, “and things …escalated.”
Rebecca’s eyes dim. “But you didn’t tell us. What about a big California wedding? What about a celebration? What about us?” She sighs, and then her eyes flick back to the screen. “Wait. Stella Grace, tell me this was not the result of a drunken night in Vegas.”
“Drunken—” Scott says, his gray brows lifting to the top of his head.
“Umm—yes,” Stella says, her eyes downcast as if she is also disappointed in us. “Super drunken. Super married. Only … it happened in Reno.” She sucks air between her teeth and wrinkles her nose.
But I’m suddenly fearing the wrath of not only my best friend from beyond the grave, but also his father. “Um—” I push my head into view. “Notthatdrunken.”
Stella looks at me as if I’m ruining a perfect setup. “A little drunken,” she says.
“Semi-drunken. But I knew what I was doing when I asked her,” I say. I have no intention of losing the admiration that somehow Scott and Rebecca still have for me.
“Yes.Semi-drunken.” Stella’s eyes turn to slits.
“But mostly sober because we are crazy in love!” I shout the words as if I were auctioning off my humanity.
“Crazy!” Stella yells, matching my tone.
Scott and Rebecca don’t respond. They stare at us through the small screen of Stella’s phone, blinking, quiet, waiting for the next outburst.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Stella says. “Please forgive us. We never meant to hurt you. It’s Roman. Yourfavorite. And he loves me.”
Stella nudges me with her palm.
“So in love,” I say.
Rebecca’s wrinkled forehead smooths, and her hands cup together at her heart. “Our Roman and our Stella. It’s like the family’s back together.” Rebecca sighs.
Back together. She says it as if when I left, a part of their family went missing. I swallow past the lump in my throat and let Stella take over.
“It’s great. Right? Good news!” Stella lets go of my shirt and gives her mother a big thumbs-up.
“We’ll need to have a reception or two. One in Cali and one in Canada?—”
Stella coughs. “For sure. But not yet.” Her gaze darts tome. “Roman’s crazy busy right now. Pro athlete and all. He’s so, so, so busy. We’ll let you know when he isn’t.”
But I am nudged once more by my wife/fiancée/roommate. “So busy.”
“So, let’s regroup and talk about it later,” Stella says. “Okay, well, we have all kinds of … married things to do. So, let’s talk next week?—”
“Wait!” Rebecca calls. “Stella.” She huffs out the woman’s name. “You can’t just go. I need details. Where are you two living?”
Stella wilts beside me, so I take the lead and answer question after question. When Rebecca asks about Stella’s job, I tell them she’s left to be here with me.
We are home free, and this conversation is about at an end when Rebecca chimes in with, “You don’t look very in love.”
Stella stiffens. “What does that mean?”
Rebecca lifts one shoulder and looks at Scott, who seems to be studying us more intently. “Just what it means. I’m looking. I’m hearing. But I don’t see the love.”
On the counter and half a foot taller than me, Stella easily loops her arm over my shoulder, pulling me close. “Well, we are.”
I watch the two of us in the tiny box in the lower left of Stella’s screen. Do we look in love?
