Picking Up the Pieces (Pieces, #2)(100)

The months leading up to it seemed relatively calm compared to other weddings I’d been a part of: no screaming matches among the bridesmaids since Steph, Danielle, and I were all friends. And Shane’s sister-in-law Talia was also extremely easy to get along with. I’d imagine being married to Ben had given her plenty of practice when it came to putting up with bullshit.

All in all, I’d breezed through the last several months without much trouble at all. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for the wedding day.

“Amanda, calm down.” I put my palm on her back and began to rub in what I thought were soothing circles. “Just relax and take deep breaths.” Amanda had been gasping, wheezing and, according to her, on the verge of vomiting for the past twenty-five minutes.

“How am I supposed to take deep breaths when you bitches have me breathing into this goddamn paper bag? And why is it so hot in here? It’s only May 10th. This church feels like a third world sweatshop.” She crumpled up the bag and thrust it into my chest. “Someone open a f*cking window.”

I nodded to Danielle, who rushed toward one of the two small windows and flung it open. “You’ll be fine, Amanda. I swear. You want this, remember? You love Shane.”

“I’m not talking about love, Danielle. I’m talking about marriage.”

Oh God, here we go.

“You realize I’m gonna have to spend the rest of my life picking up the socks and dishes that Shane leaves all over the house? And his socks are always sweaty.” She jumped up, pacing back and forth between the organ and the brown couch. “I can’t do this. You’ve all got the right idea staying single.”

“Right idea?” Was this girl delusional? “It’s not our idea, you nutcase. No one wants to marry any of us. And when someone finally does,” I gripped Amanda’s shoulders firmly and guided her down to sit on the couch again, “I’m sure you’ll be telling us the same thing we’re trying to tell you: that you’re doing the right thing.”

“Yeah,” Talia spoke up. “Believe me, being married to Ben definitely isn’t a chapter out of some fairy tale. He swears constantly, passes gas at dinner, and has converted half of Kenzie’s playroom into a home brewery.” Talia sat down next to Amanda and leaned over to put her arms around her. “But I love him. And between the two Reed brothers, you definitely got the more refined one.”

Amanda relaxed a bit for a moment and let out a soft chuckle at Talia’s last comment before she jumped right back on the crazy train. “But remember what that psychic said, Lily?”

Ever since we’d gone to a tarot card reader at a local bar the other night, Amanda had been hung up on what the psychic had said about Amanda being sure that she was with the right person and that she didn’t have “eyes for another,” as the psychic had called it. “Amanda, I told you not to put any stock into what that woman said. She reads cards on Friday nights for twenty dollars at a seedy bar. Don’t believe any of that shit.”

Just as I checked my phone to see that the ceremony was about to begin, I heard a knock at the door. Henry’s voice cracked slightly as he yelled, “You girls decent?” He waited a few seconds before continuing. “I mean, it’s okay if you’re not. It’s not like I haven’t seen a little T and A before.”

“Come in, Henry,” Amanda huffed.

“The only ‘T’ you’ve seen is when you were breastfeeding from these about eleven years ago,” Talia said cupping her breasts. “You must have a pretty good memory.”

Henry pretended to shiver at the thought. “Yo, that’s so gross, yo. Why’s it gotta be like that? Anyway, I came here to tell you that Uncle Shane said the wedding’s about to start.”

“Thanks Henry. We’ll be right out,” I said, shooting Amanda a look that told her it was now or never. She shot me a look back that told me it would probably be never. For someone who barely feared anything, she looked scared shitless.

“Lily’s right, honey. I think you’re overreacting just a bit.” Amanda’s mom had been patiently waiting for the right time to speak. She probably knew her history with men didn’t make her much of an authority on the subject of love. “Psychics are kooks, dear,” Angela said. “You can’t make life decisions based on one comment from a crazy woman. And Talia, I just have to tell you, Henry is so cute. He reminds me of this guy Flap Jack I just started dating, only taller.”

A flood of disbelief washed over Amanda’s face as her eyes fixated on her mother. “Okay, that’s it,” she finally said, knowing that her future could either involve Shane and some sweaty socks or a midget named Flap Jack. Quickly rising to her feet, she made her decision. “I’m ready. Let’s get this shit show started.”

***

Standing next to Amanda as she and Shane took their vows had elicited a response in me I hadn’t anticipated. Mesmerized, I watched as Shane brushed his thumb across Amanda’s cheek to wipe a runaway tear as he promised to be there for her for their lifetime. He put a hand on the small of her back as they each picked up their separate candles and lit the one in the middle to symbolize the unity of their lives together.

It amazed me that two people could be so wrapped up in each other with an audience focused on their every movement and word. Not wrapped up in each other in a conceited, egotistical way that so many couples experience on their wedding day. Not a hey-look-at-us-this-is-our-day kind of way. Rather, they gazed at each other as if they were the only ones in the room, their eyes having a silent conversation that only they could hear.