“A certain bride, all dressed incrazy.”
“No way!” I blurted out. “Jesus. Kyle wasright.”
“Sorry,” Sam interrupted. “But I feel that I’m missing a crucial element of thisstory.”
“Jake has a second wife, of the horror movie variety,” Keith explained. “We passed her on the street on the way here, and she flashed us someserioustit.”
“Only in the McKallister family,” Sam said, shaking her head as a huge smile appeared on her face. “See, this is what I miss about not hanging out withyouguys.”
“Breasts?” Keith asked, feigningignorance.
Sam laughed, spontaneously touching his arm, probably more out of habit than anything else. Realizing her mistake, she immediately pulled away, but not before locking eyes with Keith. The two stood there staring at one another for an uncomfortably long time. Casey poked me in the back, perhaps to initiate some sort of action onmypart.
“Casey and I need to go talk to her Aunt Betty about… um… herbunions.”
That broke the spell between them, and Sam hugged us both beforeweleft.
“Bunions?” Casey said incredulously, whispering as wewalkedaway.
“I panicked. It was the only thing I could think of on shortnotice.”
We both turned back toward Keith. He’d taken Sam to a corner, and they were in deepconversation.
“So, is your heart set on a little bunion banter, or would you like a specialsurprise?”
“What kind ofsurprise?”
“Let’s just say it’s a blast fromthepast.”
“Hopefully not from my past, Jesus,” I said, only halfjoking.
“Ourpast, babe. I’m not asadist,geez.”
She led me to a table with a woman and her teenage daughter. The mother seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place her until she nudged her daughter and the girl turned around. Casey was smiling like a loon when realization hit me who these two were: the mother and daughter from London. They were the ones who’d kept Casey occupied while I performed and even saved her from being chucked out of the venue for ‘pretending’ to be my girlfriend. It had been a crucial weekend for us as a couple, and by the end of those three days, I’d fallen hard for the girl. So hard, in fact, that our lives would never be the same. In a roundabout way, this mother and daughter pair were a part of our love story, and it was a cool touch to add them to theguestlist.
“Do you remember us?” the mother asked, standing up to greet me. The daughter followedherlead.
“I do. From London, right?” I reached my hand out to shake theirs. “I’m terrible with names,sorry.”
“I’m Angela and this is mydaughter…”
Suddenly her name came to me, and I confidently blurted it out: “Lauren.”
Both nodded enthusiastically, and Lauren, once a shy, introverted girl, caught my eye and I immediately noticed the difference in her. Not only was she wearing makeup and sporting a stylish haircut, but Lauren had also ditched the thick glasses and downward gaze that had given her the appearance of an insecureyoungteen.
“You remembered!” she answered, a crimson blush coloring her cheeks. I smiled. There was the girl Iremembered.
“Thanks for coming all this way,” I said, attempting to reassure her that she waswelcome.
“We wouldn’t have missed it. After Casey invited us, I didn’t sleep forweeks.”
“Not only that, but it was a long time to keep a secret from herfriends.”
“Girl, I feel you.” Casey exhaled, blowing out a stream of relief. “I haven’t spoken a word of truth inmonths.”
“Says the bride moments after exchanginghervows.”
Casey gaped at me as if she were offended. “You’re the one who told metolie.”
