Take Your Time (Boston Love #4)(62)



“Is this thing starting anytime soon?” Shelby sips her glass of champagne. “Or do we have time to walk around and see the exhibits?”

“Gemma and Phoebe are upstairs, talking to the venue coordinator. I don’t think the boys are here yet, but we should probably make our way up there.” I glance around the main exhibit room. There’s not a soul to be seen, excepting a few delivery men carrying beautiful floral arrangements out onto the harborside deck — clearly, the florist posed little challenge for Nate. “I’ve never seen this place so empty.”

“I still can’t believe they rented out the entire building.” Shelby shakes her head, grinning. “Weddings are usually pretty dull. This one…” She makes eye contact with a slow-swimming shark in a nearby tank. “Definitely not dull.”

“Oh my god, guys, come look at this!” Chrissy calls, waving us over to her spot beside the main ocean tank. “I think these turtles are about to do it!”

Like the totally mature adults we are, Shelby and I race over to watch the action with our faces practically pressed against the glass. Our giggles echo in the vast space.

Before Phoebe started touring potential wedding venues, I hadn’t been to Boston’s aquarium since I was a kid. Still, it’s hard to forget — the main attraction is a stunning circular tank over forty feet wide and about twenty-five feet deep, with an observation walkway that spirals around it from top to bottom like a corkscrew. Glowing tropical blue, it holds two hundred thousand gallons of water and over a thousand animals — including two very randy sea turtles.

Sipping our champagne, the three of us eventually drift away to give them their privacy and make our way up the spiral walkway, pointing out different fish as we go. I consider it a dry run for the wedding procession. Tomorrow, as the ceremony gets underway, the bridesmaids and groomsmen will congregate at the bottom of the tank and slowly make our way up to the top in pairs. At the surface, we’ll walk down a traditional aisle, then onto an elevated platform overlooking the aquatic exhibit. Phoebe and Nate will exchange their vows standing directly over a small ocean of sharks, stingrays, eels, and countless other marine creatures, in front of approximately seventy-five guests.

Anyone can get married in a church, Phoebe said when she announced her venue decision. But no one else will be able to say they had penguins as witnesses at their wedding.

Nate, bless his heart, didn’t put up a fight. He just looked at her in that quiet, intense way of his and said, Anything you want, little bird.

After they’re officially Mr. and Mrs. Nathaniel Knox, the entire aquarium is in bounds for exploration, with hors d’oeuvres by the jellyfish garden, dinner tables set up by the penguins, and a massive dance floor outside on the deck, by the sea lions.

Like I said — not your standard affair.

Shelby, Chrissy, and I eventually reach the top of the tank, where we find Phoebe and Gemma talking animatedly with a short-statured woman bearing a clipboard. We catch the tail end of their conversation as we approach.

“Yes, Miss West. We’ll have dinner standing by for the wedding party on the patio overlooking the harbor, once you’re finished with the rehearsal. You’ll have a wonderful view of the sunset as you dine and celebrate.”

“Great.” Phoebe smiles at the woman; it widens as she catches sight of us. “Chrissy! Shelby! Lila! You’re here! Great. Nate, Chase, and the rest of the groomsmen should be arriving any minute.” Her brow wrinkles. “Apparently they had a last minute errand to take care of, though I have no idea what they’re up to.”

The five of us exchange hugs. I have to extend my arms nearly all the way to wrap them around Gemma, her baby bump is getting so big.

“I know, I know, I’m huge.” She smiles, a soft light in her eyes. “Every day I wake up and wonder if this will be the morning I lose sight of my feet forever.”

I laugh. “Not forever. Just a few more months. And it’ll all be worth it, in the end, right? Because you’ll have an adorable baby to show for those swollen ankles and sleepless nights.”

Conversations die faster than a blonde in a horror movie. All four of my friends turn to look at me, identical expressions of disbelief etched on their pretty faces.

“What?” I snap, looking around defensively. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“Seriously?” Shelby asks.

“No reason,” Phoebe says pointedly. “Forget about it.”

Chrissy avoids my eyes; Gemma stares at her stomach.

I pin Shelby with a look — I can always count on her to be honest. (Occasionally, a little too honest.)

“We’ve just never heard you sound so… mushy.” She sips her champagne with narrowed eyes. “Who are you and what have you done with my commitment-phobic, child-hating, cynical friend Lila Sinclair?”

“Shelby,” Chrissy murmurs, elbowing her friend. “Leave her alone.”

“Oh, relax.” Shelby elbows Chrissy back. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing. I think it’s nice that Lila’s finally developing a heart. Kind of like the Grinch, when every Who down in Whoville sings—”

“Oh, or the Tin Man in The Wizard of Oz!” Gemma nods in agreement. “Except way less shiny and without the shameless overdependence on fossil fuels.”

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