I try to let go of Wolfe’s hand, but he keeps his iron grip on me, so I leave it. I’m not going to fight him on it. “What’s wrong?”
“I just don’t know how to fix it.”
Wolfe and I exchange a glance.
“What needs to be fixed?” I ask carefully because it’s already hideous, and I don’t want to point out another reason for her to hate it.
“It’s not symmetrical. It’s terrible.”
“I’m not sure there is a way to make it better…” I look closer, not sure it was ever meant to be symmetrical in the first place.
Wolfe steps up to inspect it and starts arranging it. Since he’s the only one who can even reach the top, I just leave him to it.
After a few minutes, my mother chimes in, “Oh yes, that is slightly better. Do this one.”
The planner woman returns with a tray of mimosas.
I step back and take one. “At least this will distract her.”
“You have no idea.”
“I grew up with her. I have a pretty good idea.” I nod to the tray. “You should drink one of those. You’re going to need it before the day is out.”
She lifts an eyebrow but picks up one of the champagne glasses. “I was warned against taking this job.”
“Tell me you’re not planning the wedding.”
She looks like she’s going to cry. “I am.”
“Whoever warned you probably underestimated how bad she is.”
“Fuck my life.”
“My deepest condolences.” I give her a sympathetic smile. “After this event is a success, ask for double the money for the wedding.”
“We’ve already signed a contract.”
I give her a look. “Tell her you’ve reconsidered the scope of the project.”
“Oh, that’s good.”
“You’re going to earn even double. It’s not enough money, but at least you’ll be able to treat your PTSD.”
She huffs and laughs, but we both know I’m not kidding.
“Atticus, you are a balloon sculpting savant. If you weren’t so good at hockey, I would insist you start your own business.” My mother claps her hands. “Wilder, doesn’t it look better?” She gestures for me to come forward.
I do, and Wolfe slips his arm around my back. “It does look better,” I say, half-teasing to Wolfe, but I’m not lying.
“Who knew I had a hidden talent?” Wolfe worked some sort of miracle. Mom wanders off to deal with some other crisis, and I’m glad I’m not involved.
“Remind me to elope if I ever get married.
“If?” Wolfe asks.
I roll my eyes at him. “Don’t even start.”
By the time guests begin arriving, Mother seems at least satisfied with the decorations, while the planner seems like she might need a tranquilizer by the end of this, but everyone elseis all smiles. We grab a few more mimosas and stay in the back because I don’t want to deal with my sister again.
