Shit stirrer. By her own account, Webb found me pretty. That’s it. But I see her eyes dart toward Jack. She’s trying to press a button that doesn’t exist. And even if it did, I wouldn’t want it pressed. I kick her under the table, and she jerks.
“Why are you kicking me?” she demands, as I slink down in my chair.
Lucas laughs. “Yes and yes. Though I need you all to excuse me for a moment. Gotta take this call.” He stands and saunters away, holding his phone to his ear.
“Lucas Webb? Oh. My. God. I would die.Die,” Anna moans.
Jack tosses his napkin onto the table. “How sweet. Are we going to be talking about 5A’s love life all night?”
To my mind, Lucas was being sweet and polite since Margie put him on the spot, but Jack’s annoyance is delightful.
“No, actually. I’m about to go give my speech. If you all will excuse me.” Avery straightens his slate-checked jacket and matching vest. It’s a three-piece suit that fits him like baby oil, and Anna notices.
“Pound this.” Margie hands me a glass of red wine.
“I’m not going to pound at the Vaughns’ party!”
Margie shrugs. “I tried.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, but before she can answer, Avery’s speech begins.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if I can have your attention for just a sec. Thanks,” Avery says into the microphone the band leader hands him. “I’ll be brief, I promise. I just wanted to thank you all for coming here tonight to celebrate two really incredible people: my mom and dad.”
The room bursts into applause, and Avery tucks his mic under his arm to join in, clapping as Mr. and Mrs. Vaughn wave.
Mr. Vaughn kisses his wife’s hand.
“You know, I’m lucky. I grew up knowing true love existed. I saw it every single day at home. But it’s one thing to see it with your own eyes, and it’s another to find it for yourself. I figured if I couldarticulatewhat love was, I’d be able to find it. So I asked around. My friend Penny once told me that love,romanticlove anyway, was like three-day-old sushi.”
There are chuckles, and I blush to my roots as Avery winds his way to my side. Now I know why Margie wanted me to chug the wine. Jack is watching me with interest from across the table.
“Hey, Pen, why was that again?” Avery holds the mic to my mouth, and I want to yank him by his tie so he hits his face on the table.
I clear my throat. “Because itlookspretty good. But you don’t go for it because you know you’ll end up sick in the end.”
The chuckles intensify into laughter, reverberating through the ship’s ballroom. I will Avery to feel my wrath as he rests his hand on my shoulder. Jack’s expression is inscrutable.
“You told me to put the joke back in, and I did,” Avery murmurs. “Thanks, Penny,” he says louder. “And then my friend Margie once said—”
“Nope. Don’t rope me into this,” Margie says loudly, and the laughter seems to shake the rafters.
La reaches across me to clink glasses with Margie. Lucas rejoins the table just in time to catch the exchange.
“Okay, okay. So, like I said, I asked around, searching for the words, but my friends weren’t any help. And I made my own observations, but I kept falling short of what I had seen with my folks. Then, one day, I went back home to visit and saw my parents through the window. They were laughing with each other, and my definition of love finally found me: Love is…laughing together. Love is talking, communicating. Love is offering up your whole heart on a platter but getting a replacement from the person you’re offering it up to. Love is wanting the best for the other person while still loving yourself. Love is growing together. Love doesn’t mean you’ll never hurt each other, but it does mean apologizing if you do, because love is fighting, but never to win. Love is moving through this world and this life in quiet caring, together.”
Avery moves closer to where his parents are seated. “Mom, Dad…”
A waitress rushes over with a champagne flute.
Avery accepts it with a grin and lifts it up, his dark hair reflecting the blue stage lights overhead. “May we all be so blessed as to eat the three-day-old sushi you two did.” There are cheers and then tinkling glasses.
I wipe at my eyes roughly. This is a unicorn of a relationship. Most people get donkeys.
“You’re such a romantic,” Jack says.
I glare back. “Sushi.”
Mr. Vaughn sweeps Mrs. V. into his arms. The music kicks up, a slow dance, “Lady in Red.” The couple dances alone for a spell before pairs trickle onto the floor around them.
