“No. Plenty of people were willing to take my shifts.”
“Well, thanks for coming all this way. It means a lot.”
I reassure her with a smile and grab my fork. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
Yep, Will’s still watching me. I don’t look over, but maybe I should’ve because, once again, Fran’s shouting my way.
“Morgan, are you still seeing Karen’s son? He’s such a darling.”
I freeze, a bite of pie halfway to my mouth. Everyone is staring, including Will. I lower my fork.
“Mom!” Ava’s fist tightens around her fork. “She hasn’t dated Leo for months. You know that.”
“Oh, right.” Fran’s eyes go wide. “The Haddock wedding. I heard about that. Was it only a few months ago? Seems like ages.”
Ava lifts a palm toward Mr. Thompson. “Dad. Please.”
Her father leans in to whisper to his wife while taking her wineglass. They erupt into a hushed argument.
I haven’t moved since I heard the name Leo. I’m a statue. Maybe I’ll turn into one and escape this evening. This weekend. This wedding.
The others restart their conversations, probably unsure what Fran was referring to.
“I’m so sorry.” Ava touches my arm. “She can be so unaware.”
Deep breath. “It’s okay. She didn’t know.”
“She did know! Ugh. She’s not allowed to drink the rest of the weekend. She’s mortifying.”
I force a small laugh for her sake. “It’s fine.” It’s not. “She’s right about one thing, though. It does feel like a long time ago.” That may be true in some ways. In others, it feels like yesterday.
Will tilts his head, his gaze bouncing between us. Even confusion looks good on him. “What was that about?”
I catch Ava’s eye, and she knows I don’t want to get into it. “It all boils down to men.” She pats Hudson’s arm. “Some are good ones, like mine. Some aren’t. The tricky part is determining who’s who. They’re all the same in the beginning. How can you decipher the great ones from those who are killing time until they break your heart?”
Will meets my eye, brow pinched beneath those carefree curls. Yep, he doesn’t know what to say—neither do I, honestly—but when he opens his mouth to speak, Evelyn, the wedding planner, interrupts.
She’s made her way to Ava. “Hey, sweetie. Can I talk to you for a moment?”
“Oh, Evelyn. You don’t look so good.” Ava stands.
No kidding. The wedding planner’s eyes are red and puffy, and she seems short of breath.
The two of them move away for a private conversation, and several people around the table take Ava’s exit as a cue to head back to their rental properties.
Maybe I can escape too. I stall over one more sip of tea.
“You know, honey.” Will’s mema holds up a hand beside her mouth, stage-whispering to me, then pats his hand. A dangerous mischief gleams in her eyes. “This one’s actually great, one of the good ones. And it sounds like you’re both single.”
While she winks and sings the last part, I nearly spew tea all over the table.
Will’s ears pink again. “Mema.”
I try to convert my cough into a laugh as she says good night and makes her exit.
After a moment, I stand, toss my napkin on the table, and mimic Mema’s exaggerated whisper. “I don’t think she knows about the psycho comment.”
He groans and dips his chin.
