“Sounds perfect,” I say. “So what’s the venue?”
Gin pauses for a sip of seltzer, undeniably building dramatic effect before announcing the news. “The Bhats’ backyard. We’re gonna DIY it.”
The size of her smile makes me want to apologize for how my stomach sinks like a body in a lake. I try to mimic Gin’s expression, but I’m not the one with the theater degree. It feels like I’m wincing, so I can’t imagine how pained I look.
Gin’s face drops, her voice practically flattened. “You hate it.”
“I don’t hate it!” I say, laying the enthusiasm on thick. “I think it sounds amazing! It just…also sounds like a lot of work.”
“I actually don’t think it’ll be that bad,” Gin says brightly, then launches into an explanation she has absolutely rehearsed. “Most of the work is just going to be gardening and landscaping, which Rishi and I can help with since I have the summer off and he’s already up in the northern suburbs for work. We’re gonna invite maybe thirty people max, do flowers from the farmers’ market, catering from this really good Mediterranean restaurant…super intimate, super simple. Then if Rishi’s parents want to throw us a reception with all their friends and family, that’s on them. What do you think?”
“I love it,” I say as brightly as I can, not allowing a second of delay. “You’re so right—that sounds totally doable.”
Gin’s smile comes back in full force. I guess I still can lie a little.
“So when’s the big day?” I ask.
“Labor Day weekend.”
My heart leaps halfway up my throat, but I maintain my poker face. “What day?”
“Saturday. It’s the thirtieth.”
Two days after Dad’s Gone Day.I reach for my phone, eyeing my paper calendar on the fridge from a distance. “Is there gonna be a rehearsal?”
“Probably?” Gin lifts her plate from the coffee table and rests it in her lap. “We haven’t nailed down all the details, but I promise the bridesmaids will be the first to know.”
My heart lands back in my chest, but not without a little turbulence. It’s not ideal, but it’s not worth stressing out the bride over. I’ll figure it out. It’ll just be a really busy, really emotionally exhausting week for me that I’ll somehow survive. Sober. No problem.
“What’s the problem?” Gin asks. She can read me like a piece of sheet music.
“Nothing! I thought there might be something, but it’s nothing.” I set my phone down and keep my spirits up. “I’ll be in Galena earlier that weekend, but I’ll figure it out. Zero worries.”
“Okay, good.” Gin sighs, and her shoulders relax. I wait for her to ask about Galena; instead, she prods a samosa with her fork before picking it up and biting into it like a chicken nugget. “God, Alice. I’m so excited.Virginia Bhat.Doesn’t that sound good?”
“You’re taking his last name, then?”
She nods while she chews. “I’m more than happy to drop any affiliation with the Bennetts.”
Gin doesn’t discuss her parents much, but they’ve crossed mymind more than once recently. Last I heard, the Bennetts were still living in the same Memphis suburb that Gin has never returned to. Unless things have radically changed, Mr.and Mrs.Bennett are liable to interpret their daughter marrying a man as clear evidence you really can pray the gay away.
I try to sneak up on the question without ruining the mood. “Are your parents invited to the wedding?”
Gin scoffs. “No way. They don’t even know I’m engaged.”
Grief begs me to shake her by the shoulders and shout,INVITE THEM! YOU COULD REGRET IT WHEN THEY’RE DEAD!But I know better than to extend too much grace to the parents that called Gin “a lost soul” when she came out as bi.
“Let’s talk about something else,” she mutters, and I’m grateful for it. We have so much more ground to cover, but Gin beats me to our next topic. “Let’s talk about the bachelorette party.”
Not exactly what I had in mind, but I sweep up my minor frustration and stuff it away. I had plenty of months to vent about Dad. It’s Gin’s turn to talk through a life-changing event.
“Have you done the survey yet?” Gin asks. “Renee and I got drinks last night, and she wouldn’t tell me what was on it.”
“Did she tell you it was almost fifty questions?”
“Thorough,” Gin remarks.
“Exhausting,” I correct her. I reach for my phone. “I can show you, if you want.”
