I scratch my cheek and acknowledge the humor to myself about the direction of where this story is going. “Let me guess, she was thrilled and insisted you show up tonight.”
Rosie bobs her head side to side, and the corners of her mouth curve up. “You know her so well. Then you also know that she wouldn’t let me say no. I’m positive she probably would have popped my car tire just to ensure I couldn’t leave.” She rolls her lips in and quickly circles her eyes around the area to avoid mine.
It takes a moment, but I ease a smidgen. “Probably. She always loved you and still doesn’t stop talking about you.” As in, she brings up Rosie at every opportunity. It’s irritating.
She lifts a shoulder. “I like her, and I’m easy to get along with… I think.” Her brows furrow as she doubts herself, which she shouldn’t because it’s true.
I quickly scan the area and luckily nobody takes notice of us except my mother who gives me a proud little wave before returning to her conversation with one of Oliver’s colleagues. It’s a shame I’m aware of how one investigates a murder.
A waiter appears from nowhere and offers both of us a cocktail in a mason jar. Eagerly, we both accept one then take a decent swig before our faces wilt from the sourness.
“Is it me or did they go a little strong on the gin?” She peers down into the cocktail of lime, ice, and who knows what else.
“No imagination necessary. Oliver and Hailey were insistent on having a cocktail that they created.” I circle the cubes in my jar, also investigating what the contents may be.
Rosie releases a short laugh. “It’s nice that they’re doing this. I guess when they eloped, they took a page from our book.”
Because we went to the courthouse, too. In the spur of the moment, after I bought her a vintage ring from an art market a few towns over. She isn’t a diamond kind of girl when it comes to rings.
“Your father wanted to kill me for that move.” Even I have to let a light mood float within me.
Rosie shrugs. “Well, Grayson Blisswood is adamant that his little girl still follows his lead and should have had a big wedding at Olive Owl.” Their family winery and farm down in Bluetop, not so far from here.
“I’m sure your sister or one of your cousins will have a wedding that makes up for it.”
“I guess.”
A silence lingers between us for seconds that seem far too long. This should be my cue to escape but my stupid feet remain rooted to the ground.
I remember what my mother cited recently because she keeps tabs on the latest news. “Uh, my mom mentioned that Astro passed. I’m sorry to hear.” She loved that horse. Had him since she was a kid and he lived on her family farm.
A shade of sadness crosses her face. “He lived a good life. Not everything can last forever.” It feels as though she doesn’t mean just the horse.
Which is why her words hit me like a knife, and she must realize that. “Right.” My T is a little sharp.
The moment lingers, and for a few seconds, she too seems to be suffering from her own statement.
“So, I guess we should probably go take our seats or something. I hear you have best-man duties,” she suggests awkwardly.
“I do. Ridiculously, they have their new dog bringing the rings to them instead. It just means I don’t have to worry about losing them.”
Her face puzzles. “Is that why there is an emblem of a Labrador face on every napkin? Plus, don’t they already have rings?”
“Yeah, Jet, their dog, is probably more important than any family member. They already have rings and are using the same ones, but now they have something engraved inside of them.”
And your wedding ring is still next to mine in a box in my room.It didn’t feel right to throw them into the river.
“Enchanting,” she replies simply.
The sound of someone clinking a glass brings all the guests’ attention, and when Keats, a friend of both me and my brother, announces that the ceremony will begin, people begin to move.
“Well… I-I guess I will see you around,” Rosie stammers and shifts her weight to one foot in an attempt to move.
“Yeah.”
She nods once and leaves me to watch her saunter away, and I don’t think she wanted me to notice how she briefly glanced over her shoulder.
Who the fuck of any higher power decided that I now need to sit through a wedding with my ex-wife not far away?
