Two Bar Mitzvahs (No Weddings #3)(43)
“Well, what do you think?” I tilted my head, watching her peaceful expression.
Her gaze drifted down to her pale orange drink. “It’s okay. Not my favorite.”
Leaning in to brush a kiss on her cheek, I chuckled. “No, silly, my family. You were a little nervous when we drove up here. How about now?”
She blinked. “I totally forgot I’d even been concerned.” A smile tugged at her lips as she looked up toward the house where everyone had disappeared. “I think I might love your family.”
Stretching my arms up and locking my fingers together behind my head, I laughed. I let my ass slide down in the seat and crossed my feet on the chair seat opposite me. “All signs indicate they definitely love you.”
Snorting a cute puff of air from her nose, she shook her head. “I still can’t believe you tossed me in the pool.”
I scoffed, unapologetic. “You needed that icebreaker. And with the entire cheering section goading us on, I knew you wouldn’t be completely mortified. Think of it as a family initiation.”
“Next time, warn a girl.” She gave my shoulder a light shove. “So I guess I’m officially a Michaelson?”
The words came out of her mouth before she realized what they meant. I blamed it on her double dose of mai tais that I’m sure contained enough alcohol to impair her judgment and loosen her filters. ‘Officially’ a Michaelson meant taking our name—which involved proposals and weddings.
But her lighthearted demeanor told me she hadn’t made the mental connection. And to make sure her thoughts didn’t stray from her warm-and-fuzzy happy place, I chuckled. “Oh, yeah. You’re a Michaelson alright, baptized by pool water, christened in the shower, and adopted while barbequing.”
I lifted my beer. “Raise up that ‘okay mai tai,’ Maestro.”
With a big smile beaming on her face, she grabbed her glass with the orange slice dangling from its rim.
“To new families and the security in knowing that with love, an entire army will always have your back.” No matter what obstacles we faced.
Hannah’s smile widened. And I swear her happiness brightened an already sunny day—burned right through all the nonsense that had clouded our morning.
***
After stowing Ava safely away in her crate for a nap, we went down to the kitchen to help with the last of the cleanup. I took over wash duty from Mom. Kendall tossed Hannah a clean dish towel, then joined my other two sisters, who sorted through Mom’s serving pieces, deciding which items they wanted to use for the party. The rest would be purchased for pennies on the dollar from a restaurant supply store, who’d committed to Kristen to stay open this afternoon by private appointment.
Before we’d dried the last platter, 3:00 p.m. rolled around and the gate buzzed, signaling the rental trucks had arrived. Kristen ran off to the control panel to let them in. Then she rushed through the kitchen again and out the back door.
I took the platter from Hannah and set it on the granite countertop. “That’s our cue. Showtime.”
Two paneled trucks drove across the lawn and parked where Kristen directed them. Two-man teams began unloading dozens of chaise lounges and half as many market umbrellas. Huge concrete pots were brought out as well, then positioned in an alternating pattern, one in an empty space behind every few chairs.
Gardeners descended onto the pots, adding soil and planting assorted flowers into each one. After about forty minutes, all the chairs had been positioned and the gardeners had begun hosing down the tables and umbrellas, the cushions and chairs, and finally the decking around the pool.
Hannah nudged up beside me, smiling. “Those pots have snapdragons.”
Even though my sunglasses were dark, I could see the brilliant colors. “It was one of two requests I made to the gardeners.”
She tilted her head. “What was the other?”
“Purple pansies. Mom’s favorite.”
“Awww, how sweet.”
I wrapped an arm around her. “I take care of my girls.”
She leaned in, resting her head on my shoulder as we stood in the shade, watching the last of the activity. “None of your family is doing anything tonight, on the actual Fourth of July?”
I shook my head. “We’ve never been big on crowds. And we need a good night’s rest to handle the nonstop craziness that will happen for the party tomorrow.”
“So really, there’s nothing for you and I to do today, other than make sure everything gets put in its proper place?”
Taking her hand, I led her down toward the pool area. The breeze picked up, and the fading sun made the temperature perfect. “Exactly. We oversee the client’s vision to ensure that what we ordered arrives, and the way we imagined things actually occurs.”
Hannah ran a finger across the top of the cushion on a chaise, the back of which rested at a perfect forty-five degree angle to match the rest in line, down the length of the pool. “Where did all the lounge chairs, tables, and umbrellas come from? They’re a perfect match to the existing terra-cotta cushions and tan furniture.”
I nodded as I scanned the pool area to take in the sixty-five chairs, thirty on each side and five in the middle at the end, spaced into wide groupings of two and four. “They’re a perfect match because it’s all their furniture. When Mom bought the collection a few years back, she bought enough for parties just like this, and she stores the extra pieces between events. She only throws one or two parties a year and wants things informal when it’s family and a few neighbors.”