Best Friends Don't Kiss(83)
“But I thought he was able to get off work to come here? Why in the hell did they call him back in?” The explanation does nothing to quell Aunt Poppy’s questions.
“One of the pilots got sick, and he had to go back and help out,” I supply, a full-blown lie that’s beginning to fall far too easily from my lips.
“Well, that’s a damn shame,” Poppy mutters and plops down on the sofa. “I sure hope he can get his ass back in time for the wedding. I bet that man looks hot to trot in a suit.”
“Uh-huh.” I force a smile to my lips, trying to act like everything is just peachy keen, but I can feel her watching me like a hawk. So, I try my damnedest to switch the freaking subject. “Are you here to let Aunt Lil do some alterations to your dress?”
“I can do my own damn alterations.” Poppy scoffs, stands up, and walks into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.
Aunt Lil grins at me. “She’s so full of it,” she mutters as she carefully places a few pins into the waist of my dress, pulling it in a half inch or so. “She can’t sew to save her life.”
“I can hear you!”
“I know you can hear me!”
“Well, if you know I can hear you, then why are you over there talking shit?” Poppy questions and unscrews the cap on her bottle of water and takes a sip. “Don’t make me come over there and kick your ass.”
“Bring it, you old hag.” Aunt Lil sets down the container of pins and gestures with both hands. “I dare ya.”
Poppy moves like her ass is on fire, and I burst into laughter, but also, I quickly hop down off the step stool and hold out both of my hands between them.
“Ladies, ladies, there’s no time for violence,” I interject before these two hens start to rumble in my parents’ living room. “Kate and my mom and Em are going to be here any minute, and Lord knows, it would be downright cruel for the bride-to-be to walk in on you two in a fistfight.”
My aunts continue to glare at each other.
“Hey,” I say, trying to get their attention. “Aunt Poppy. Aunt Lil.”
But when they don’t respond or make any move to end the standoff, I put two fingers in my mouth and let out a sharp whistle. “Cut it out!”
The sounds of the garage door echo into the kitchen, and I use that to plead my case.
“Do you really want Kate to see you two at odds the day before her wedding?”
Lil sighs.
Poppy rolls her eyes.
But eventually, the two old birds call a truce by shaking hands.
I swear to God, after all these years of being bickering, bitching sisters, it’s a miracle these two haven’t killed each other.
It’s also a miracle they helped me get out of my emotional funk for a few minutes.
Yeah, but you know that’s going to be short-lived, sister.
Internally, I sigh, reminding myself that I have to hold it together today and tomorrow. If not for myself, I have to do it for Kate.
December 31st, New Year’s Eve
Luke
“What are you doing here?” Trevor asks, his eyes wide when he sees me step aboard the plane.
“I…uh…convinced Barry to let me take his shift.”
Frankly, it took a lot of convincing for Barry to give up this flight, but hell, there was no fucking way I was going to be able to stay home, in my apartment, and think about how Ava is doing and how the wedding was going, and yeah, you get the idea.
It was either wallow in my own misery or try to find something to distract me.
This flight seemed like the perfect option.
And because Barry might not be as nice of a guy as I originally thought, I’m basically flying this plane for free tonight. On fucking New Year’s Eve.
Trevor just sits there, staring at me like I’m not even speaking English.
“Dude, I’m so fucking confused right now,” he mutters and runs a hand through his hair. “Aren’t you supposed to be at Ava’s sister’s wedding?”
“Change of plans.” I shrug and busy myself with putting my duffel in the staff closet behind the cockpit.
But my sad excuse for an explanation doesn’t do anything to suppress his bewilderment.
“Luke, my man, I think we both know this wasn’t just a simple change of plans,” he continues, his eyes scrutinizing my face. “No offense, but you look like shit, and there is no way in hell you should be anywhere but Vermont right now.”
He probably isn’t off base on the whole “you look like shit” comment.
Sleep hasn’t come easy since I left Vermont because I hurt Ava so badly that she told me she needed space. I feel like someone has ripped my heart out of my chest, run it through it a meat grinder, and shoved it back inside my body.
Truthfully, the only thing that’s helped ease some of the discomfort is running. Needless to say, in the past twenty-four hours, I’ve managed three six-mile runs around the city, about four hours of sleep, and only one meal of fucking Lucky Charms cereal.
It’s all pretty pathetic.
“It’s a long story,” I eventually answer through a sigh. I slip my hands into my pockets and stare up at the ceiling of the plane. “One that I don’t want to get into right now. So, let’s just focus on getting ready for the flight, okay?”