Isla bursts out laughing.
I have to fan myself because, as ridiculous as this is, my mom and Brielle look deliriously happy.
I hold the invite up. “We’ll talk about this after class, now get to the barre.”
Heading to my little table where I store my phone, I quickly send a text.
Me: Options for a real wedding-ish. Our moms created an example invite.
I take a photo of the invitation and send it to Connor.
Instantly, he types back.
Connor: What are the chances they actually booked the venue already?
Me: Probable. They’ve gone a little loco, but they seem so ecstatic.
Connor: I bet you my dad would order a tux for the dog.
Me: I guess this might be better than them planning our honeymoon.
Connor: Rumor has it that’s a work-in-progress.
Me: Uh oh… Well, I gotta go teach.
Connor: Sure, hey… the invite is for well in the future, you know…
I still for a second. I did notice it’s in a few months but didn’t think much about it. Connor and I spoke of a timeline, but I’m not sure something ever connected that we have one.
I type a lie.
Me: I didn’t notice…
Connor: Liar. Guess I’ll just have to spank you later.
A goofy grin hits my face, and I set my phone on silent and hit play on the dance class playlist.
* * *
The next day,I find myself with a sandwich wrap sitting near the gazebo at the end of Main Street with my dad next to me. His request for a quick bite and walk wasn’t unusual considering we always do stuff together, but the last few days he’s been a bit distant. This chat over turkey and honey mustard feels a little more stiff than normal.
“Ashton is bummed he is missing your husband’s charity game with puppies, but I have tickets for a baseball game in the city and need to make an appearance since it’s my old team.” The way my dad says husband causes my cheeks to raise.
“Puppies make people happy,” I state blandly.
My father tosses the paper wrapper from his sandwich in the nearby trash can then turns his attention to me. “You okay with your mom going a little overboard with pushing a wedding-ish, if that’s what we’re calling it?”
I laugh. “Sure, she can plan away, but that doesn’t mean it will happen. Are you okay with her acting crazy?”
“Sure. In this fictional wedding, would I get to have a dance as father of the bride?”
I interlink our arms. “Of course. Is that what has you down? Missing your father-of-the-bride responsibilities? Because if you say that’s what has you in a mood, then I might not believe you.”
“You didn’t have the wedding I would have expected, but you’re right. I’m just worried that you married for the wrong reasons.”
I quirk my lips out. “Stop scowling, it’s bad for your age lines. Besides, I thought you and Connor had a little chat the other day. Are you worried about something?”
My father’s eyes glaze with a mood that I can’t quite distinguish. “He never asked me for your hand in marriage, never went through my vigorous tests, and I needed to be sure that he will do anything for you.”
