Oh, wow,I thought. I’d had no idea Katie had so much on her plate. Could that explain why she wasn’t a regular participant in Ready-Set-Date conversations?
Meredith sighed. “I hope she unwinds this weekend.”
“Yeah, me too,” I whispered before asking where she and Wit planned to move in the fall.
Fifteen minutes later, Katie and the bridesmaids emerged outside carrying individual trays of wine. They had two Rose Hill staff members in tow with two icy pitchers and water glasses. “Thank you so much,” Katie said graciously, and slipped them both tips.
It turned out a “flight” was basically a selection of wine samples. Each tray had six mini stemless wine glasses; three were filled with white wine, and three filled with red. Reese proposed filming our first and last drinks of the day, to compile into an Instagram Reel.
Reese was above TikTok.
Katie volunteered to go first. “I’m Katie, the bride,” she said luminously, and held up her baby glass of sauvignon blanc. “Andthis is my first drink of the day!”
“To Katie!” the table toasted as she took a sip.
When it was my turn, Reese offered me a little glass of red. I accepted.
“I’m Mads,” I said, “I’m a bridesmaid, and this is my first drink of the day…”
Eighteen
Everyone had a nice buzz going by the time our bus dropped us off, five wineries and a wine slushie stand later, at 5:00. Well, everyone but me. Reese’s wine had been the only time alcohol had touched my lips today. During our formal wine tasting at the gorgeous chateau Domaine LeSeurre—Dad would love this place, I kept thinking—I’d stood with the group, but was not served anything but sparkling water. Katie had left with an extremely expensive case of Riesling. “Mom’s sixtieth is coming up, remember?” she’d told her sister.
Amanda sent a mostly sobered-up Katie upstairs to take a leisurely bath while the rest of us were given fifteen minutes to change into our assigned animal-print pajamas. Ironically, my PJs were tiger striped. “Fucking Princeton,” I muttered before snapping a selfie. I’d texted Connor a couple pictures throughout the day, but all he’d done was heart them; I felt a pang in my chest, knowing he was busy with Lauren.
I sent the tiger pajama selfie of myself to the Princetonians,and Simon, Zach, and Timothy Hobson-Kirby IV all liked the photo. Marco didn’t acknowledge it.Savage!Zach wrote.Who picked those for you?
Truthfully, I didn’t know.
Downstairs, everyone had been put to work. The family room had been decorated when Katie and I’d arrived yesterday: gold, silver, and white streamers artfully arranged with signs that said things like SHE FOUND HER LOVER (KATIE’S VERSION) and I CAN’T TALK RIGHT NOW, I’M DOING BACHELORETTE SHIT and POP THE BUBBLY, SHE’S GETTING A HUBBY!
(The last one mystified me; I’d read it so many times yet still didn’t understand how it even remotely rhymed.)
Paige was sprucing up the family room with embarrassing-bordering-on-blackmail photos of Katie asleep through the years while Reese and Yasmin strung up a clothesline to hang up our personality panties. In the end, I’d gone a sardonic route with pink boy shorts featuring a “Little Miss” meme: LITTLE MISS CRIES OVER SOMEONE SHE NEVER DATED.
Even I had to admit it was on point.
In the kitchen, Meredith was prepping dinner in a sleep set covered in foxes and a zebra-print Courtney was pouring predinner cocktails. “Would you like something?” she asked after handing Meredith an Aperol spritz.
“Yes, please,” I said, because to be honest, I’d really felt the FOMO today. I couldn’t do anything about only being seventeen(nearly eighteen!), but now we were back at the house. No one was going to card me, and my parents said I could indulge. Everything would be fine.
“Pick your poison,” Courtney said. “I bartended in grad school.”
“Whiskey sour,” I said. It was one of Dad’s favorites.
Courtney nodded. “Coming right up!”
I waited, excited, and grinned when Courtney garnished the cocktail with an orange wheel and cherry. The first sip of the caramel-colored drink was glorious, refreshing and punch-packing. It tasted like the last sunset of summer: wonderfully bittersweet.
Meredith’s dinner was freaking delicious. Not only was the London broil marinated and grilled to perfection, but she’d also tossed a green salad and made a huge tomato and mozzarella platter with basil and balsamic dressing drizzled on top. And then, there was her corn salad with sliced radishes and jalapeños—simple, butincredible. “I wish I could marry you, Meredith,” Paige said. “Do you cook for Wit like this every night?”
Meredith smirked, eyes shining. “Cooking is one of my love languages.”
The rest of us groaned, partly because we were in food comas and partly because we were super jealous of Meredith’s husband.
We’d switched to red wine for dinner, but cocktails and rosé from our seemingly endless supply returned for the festivities. I still felt totally with it, but an unfamiliar sense of warmth had spread through my entire body. “Okay, ladies!” Amanda said oncewe’d all gathered in the living room. Meredith had set up a cute dessert spread on the coffee table. “Tonight, we are going to start with a game from Katie’s past!”
“Yes, I will jump into the lake naked,” I said through a cupcake.
