As Mum turns her attention to Dad, Evan steps forward, having been lurking behind her nervously, and gives us an awkward wave.
“Hello,” he says with a fixed smile. “Nice to see you both.”
“Hi, Evan,” Adrian says cheerily, offering a handshake. “How are you?”
We’ve never warmed to Evan. In our minds, he’s the bad guy, who lured Mum away from Dad and destroyed our family. I was horrible to him when it all first happened, and I look back on some of the things I said with a touch of regret, because, affair aside, Evan does seem like quite a nice guy. He’s kind, outgoing, and with a streak of quirkiness that matches Mum. Today, for example, he’s wearing a mustard-yellow checkered suit with a matching bow tie. I’m surprised Mum let him wear something that clashes with her hat, but I suppose she’s all about the freespirit, so telling someone how to dress wouldn’t really be her vibe.
I can see that Evan is nervous around me, and part of me quite likes that, if I’m honest, because it gives me a sense of power over him. Then I remember how in Ireland, I banged on to Jamie about admiring those who exuded kindness. He may have been a target for a lot of my anger, but Evan really isn’t the person I should be mad at.
After Adrian has performed his jolly greeting, he gives me a pointed look. I clear my throat.
“Evan,” I say, plastering on a smile and stepping forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Great to see you.”
He looks stunned and receives my olive branch overenthusiastically. In fact, he’s so delighted, gushing about how wonderful I look and beaming at me so eagerly, that I wonder how much of a gremlin I must have been to him before if simply saying “Great to see you” has had such an effect.
I glance at Adrian, who mimes giving me a round of applause behind Evan’s back. The three of us then smile at each other gormlessly, each pretending not to be listening to Mum and Dad’s conversation, but of course we are. Still, it’s all very cordial and pleasant, and it’s not long before we are ushered into the Orangery to take our seats for the ceremony.
I find the service particularly moving, because all I can see when I look at Rachel is her as a little girl, mud on her hands and face, her red hair falling out of its neat plait by the end of our adventures. Now, here she is, a proper grown-up, in an elegant white jumpsuit and towering heels, saying her vows to someone, promising to love them forever, no matter what comes their way.
I look down at my hands folded neatly on my lap, finding it difficult to watch. I notice Mum watching me from across the aisle. Refusing to catch her eye, I remain facing forward andsmile gracefully at the brides, even more determined to appear absolutely fine and unaffected.
“Lovely ceremony,” Dad says afterward, as he, Adrian, and I clink our champagne glasses together and toast the happy couple. “Short, too, which I appreciate.”
“Not sure you’re supposed to say things like that out loud, Dad.”
“No, I agree, it’s all about keeping it short and sweet,” Adrian pitches in. “Same can be said for speeches, so keep that in mind, Freya.”
I scowl at him.Damn it.Why did I think it would be a good idea to tell him about the Wedding Season task for today?!
I’m dreading this stupid challenge of making a speech, even more than the naked hotel run. That was risky, but this is just downright mortifying. I even rang Ruby and Leo yesterday to double-check that Ihadto make a speech at this wedding.
“Of course not,” Ruby said soothingly. “But you have to consider, would you be disappointed in yourself if you fail this task?”
She was playing me. I hated her for it, but I also had to respect her game.
“Are you making a speech today, Freya?” Dad asks, surprised.
“Don’t say anything, it’s meant to be off the cuff,” Adrian tells him, tapping the side of his nose. “I think it’s very sweet of you, sis. You’ve always been good at public speaking.”
Dad makes a face. “Has she?”
“No, Dad, he was being sarcastic,” I inform him, narrowing my eyes at my brother. “Permission to hit him over the head?”
“Permission not granted. Behave yourselves,” Dad mutters. “Why are you making a speech, then?”
“Who’s making a speech?” Mum asks brightly, appearing at Dad’s side and almost taking him out with her hat as she turns her head to look accusingly at me and Adrian.
Ugh.Of all people, I donotneed Mum’s input on the topic. Evan comes sidling up next to her, carrying their glasses and handing her one.
“Freya is,” Adrian says gleefully, nodding toward me. “You know she’s always been good in front of a crowd.”
“Is that right?” Mum looks confused. “I thought you hated that sort of thing. Remember when you, Rachel, and Adrian put on that play for us about King Arthur and the sword in the stone?”
“Oh yeah!” Adrian brightens at the memory. “I was Arthur, Rachel was Merlin, and Freya, remind us all of your role.”
“I played the stone.”
Adrian throws his head back and cackles loudly. Dad chuckles and even Evan feels that he can join in, sniggering behind his hand.
