“Why are you being weird?”
“I’m not being weird! She’s ignoring me.” I fumble another ribbon into a passable bow. “And let me remind you—I’m not interested in a setup.”
What I’m interested in is going to bed. Instead, I’m sitting on a blue rug and using the coffee table as my workspace, and Morgan is, of course, sitting as far away as possible at the kitchen table.
“You’re not trying. Forget the setup. Just act like normal humans.”
“I am trying. You guys aren’t helping, making it all awkward. And maybe I don’t want to talk toher.”
Hudson starts to say something else, but Ava’s phone rings. She steps outside to take the call as footsteps scuffle overhead. Morgan makes her way downstairs and back to her spot.
And shocker, Hudson takes the opportunity to get something from the fridge.
Morgan and I work in silence.
“So,” I say, and “how ’bout that weather” pops into my head. I have enough brainpower left to hold it in.
She raises a brow.
Say something. Anything. “Are you excited for your senior year?”
She dips her head over the tiny bow she’s tying. It unravels, and she sighs. “Yeah, I guess. Should be fun.”
I finish another chocolate jar and toss it into the box. “Need some help with that?”
She snorts. “I don’t need your help.”
Ava emerges from the porch and pauses at the door. A tear leaks from a red-rimmed eye. Uh-oh.
I stand, and Morgan launches from her chair, rushing to Ava’s side. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
Hudson comes back in and wraps her in a hug. “What’s up, babe?”
“Mom is impossible. Why does she make everything so difficult? She called to complain about the florist and to tell me the bakery where we ordered cookies for brunch on Saturday canceled the order. I mean, that’s not a big deal. Couldn’t she keep it to herself?” She waves toward the jars and ribbons strewn across the table. “And why oh why didn’t she let me use one of the local wedding planners here? They have a full service. But, no, Mom insisted we use Evelyn. This stuff should have been done ages ago. I thought itwasdone.”
Hudson rubs her back. “Hey, everything will be okay.”
“Mom was going to tell me something else, but she must’ve sensed I was losing it. So she refused to tell me.” Arms around his waist, she snuggles in to Hudson. “Is everything falling apart? What else is going to go wrong? Cookies, rude flower shops, mystery emergency.” She points between Morgan and me. “And these two won’t eventryto get along.”
Another tear races down her cheek. Great. I’m the worst kind of idiot.
Morgan and I eye each other. Some mutual agreement forms.
She places a hand on Ava’s arm. “We can get along. We promise. Right, Will?”
“Yeah, no problem.”
Hudson spends the next minutes consoling Ava, and when she retreats upstairs, he spreads his hands at us. “Okay, that’s it, you two. Either play nice or pretend to. Got it.”
We nod.
“Good.” He picks up a box of jars and scoops all the unfinished ones into it. “These need to go back to Evelyn. She said she’ll deal with them tomorrow when she feels better, and hopefully, she can finish them off. There’s only half a box left, but we’re all too tired and emotional. Think you two can manage to walk these over there without fighting while I tell Ava good night?”
We nod again.
“Okay, then.”
I take the box. He blurts a quick set of directions, and Morgan grabs the other.
