He glances up from his phone and it falls from his hand. “Lily. Wow.”
A smile spreads across my face at his reaction. Slowly, I approach him and turn around. “Could you help me with the zipper?”
I hear his sharp intake of breath and my small smile grows. It’s empowering, his obviously appreciative reaction. I’m not fool enough to think it means anything, but what woman doesn’t enjoy making a handsome man drool with nothing more than some eyeliner and a sexy dress?
I hear him slowly stand up, and then his warm hands are on my back, lightly grazing over me as he pulls the zipper up.
“Thanks,” I murmur, stepping forward and looking over my shoulder at him. “We should go. Do you need your cane?”
He shakes his head slowly, and although the therapist in me wants to object, I can see by the firm set to his face that he’s determined not to show weakness tonight. I’ll just keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t push himself too much.
We slowly make our way downstairs to the room that is set for the ceremony. I do my best to ignore the curious looks that get thrown my way, my eyes searching out the one person I want to see today.
“Come on, I see my grandmother,” I say, taking Jude’s hand and leading him over to Nana, who’s sitting in the second row fanning herself lightly with the gold embossed program for the wedding.
“Hi, Nana,” I say, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek.
“My darling. You’re here.”
She looks up at us with a big smile that grows even bigger when she takes in Jude. It’s at that moment I realize I’m still holding his hand. But strangely, when I loosen my grip, he doesn’t do the same.
“And who’s this fine young man with you, Lily?” Nana looks from me to Jude and back again, her eyes twinkling.
“Hello, ma’am, I’m Jude Donnelly, a friend of your granddaughter. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Jude holds out his free hand and shakes Nana’s in return. I’m too busy staring at him, shocked by the fact that he did more than just grunt out a single word to a complete stranger, to realize the room is filling up around us. That is, until my mother taps me on the shoulder with her sharp fingernails. Her eyes rake up and down my body, those lips thinning with disapproval. But for once, Marnie comes to my rescue, in a way, because I’m saved from Mom’s criticism by someone announcing that the ceremony is starting.
“Take your seat, Lilian,” She bites out.
I drop Jude’s hand and this time he lets go as we slowly lower ourselves into the seats next to my grandmother, Jude being on the outside, so he can stretch his knee. The imprint of his knee brace presses against the fabric of his pants, making the therapist in me happy that he’s at least got that support. A string quartet starts up, but I still hear Nana when she leans over and whispers in my ear.
“He’s a good one, my darling, I can tell.”
Before I can say anything in return and clarify my relationship status with Jude, or heck, ask her how she knows that after just meeting him, the music dies down, then starts up with the unmistakable sound of the wedding march.
Here we go.
My ex-boyfriend is now officially my cousin-in-law. There’s a weird statement.
I tell Jude to stay seated as I escort Nana and follow the bridal party and my immediate family over to where Marnie and Clay want to do photos. The bridesmaids are less than subtle with their open stares and whispers behind their bouquets. I know they’re talking about me.
But there’s nothing I can do about it except try to keep my head held high. As soon as I can escape, I make my way back to Jude as Marnie, Clay, and the wedding party head outside for some more photos.
“Do you need to go with them?” Jude asks when I reach his chair.
I just wave my hand in dismissal. As if Marnie would want me anywhere near her wedding photos. “I did the obligatory family pose. I won’t be needed for anymore.”
“But you’re her cousin. Doesn’t that matter?”
I let out a light huff of derisive laughter. “Barely.”
His eyes are inscrutable as he stares at me. “Then let’s find a drink.” Jude offers me his elbow and I take it gratefully.
“That’s a genius idea.”
We make our way slowly into the ballroom where guests are milling around high-top tables, sipping champagne. Waitstaff are walking around with silver trays that probably hold some disgustingly fancy hors d’oeuvres. Even though my stomach is growling, you won’t find me eating caviar.
“I’d kill for a burger and a beer right now. What are the chances of finding one here?” Jude mutters under his breath.
“Slim to none, I’m afraid. But if you like champagne and caviar, you’re in luck.”
