Save the Date(108)

J.J. inclined his head. “I just did what was required,” he said humbly. He really had done a good job once he took over for Any Way You Want It, curating a surprisingly danceable mix, jumping eras and genres from one song to the next, like he was trying to make sure as many people as possible had at least one song they wanted to dance to.

The rest of the reception had gone great—it had been all of us out on the dance floor, getting down, singing along to the words, and laughing. Danny had snuck me glasses of champagne, the General and Mrs. Daniels had proven that they could dance, and my cousin Frannie had, as usual, gotten drunk and started talking too loudly about how she could have been a doctor, if she’d wanted to.

Jesse had left the reception early—he’d said his good-byes and thanked my parents, and then had given me a hug, during which he’d whispered, right in my ear, “Text me when you’re done here.”

And even though there were plenty of times I could have slipped away, I found that I really wasn’t even tempted to. It was Linnie’s wedding, I was having a blast with my family, and everything felt like it was finally working out.

Even Jimmy and Liz had appeared to have a good time—albeit from separate sides of the tent—and it was clear that despite their animosity almost shutting down the wedding, they weren’t about to bury the hatchet and get over it anytime soon.

The party had gone on, the volume definitely climbing, but maybe Don had given up, or maybe the police weren’t responding to him anymore—at any rate, nobody else showed up to tell us to keep it down. At some point, as more and more guests had started to depart, J.J. had set up a playlist and come down to dance with us—dancing close to Jenny W. for the rest of the night. It had been just what I’d wanted—all of us, having a good time together.

The dancing kept going, with people peeling off until it was basically just me, Danny, and J.J. on the dance floor. When J.J.’s playlist came up with three acoustic guitar songs in a row, we decided it was a sign that we should call it a night and head inside.

The caterers had left the kitchen immaculate—much cleaner than it normally was. I was worried that people might have all gone to bed, but when we heard laughter from the other room, we headed out to investigate and found everyone else sitting around the family room, digging into the leftover wedding cake. Linnie and Rodney were there—Linnie had changed into a short white dress halfway through the reception, the better for dancing, and Rodney was still wearing his dad’s suit, the tie loosened. My parents were there, sitting on opposite sides of the room, my dad on the couch and my mom in her armchair, my mom having changed into sweats and my dad still in his tux. Seeing that the party was carrying on in here, we’d all headed in and I had wasted no time in grabbing myself a plate and joining them, taking the spot next to Danny on the couch.

“The music really was pretty good,” Mike agreed from his armchair as he set his empty plate on the coffee table. Mike still being there was a surprise, but one that I was very happy to see. He’d actually participated in the wedding reception—dancing with Linnie, talking to our relatives and family friends, seeming to have a good time. Seeing him in here now, voluntarily spending time with all of us, felt like when a butterfly alights on your hand and you don’t want to do anything or make any sudden movements to scare it away.

“Don’t encourage him,” my mother said quickly.

“You really liked my choices?” J.J. asked, sounding flattered. “You think DJJJ has a future?”

“No,” everyone in the room who wasn’t J.J. said at the same time. J.J. looked offended as he took a bite of cake, and I laughed as I leaned back against the couch cushions, pulling my legs up underneath me. I looked around the room, feeling really at peace and happy. Despite everything—despite all the mishaps leading up to now—it had turned out okay. Because here we were—my family—together after my sister’s wedding, eating cake and laughing.

Everything this weekend had been worth it to get to right now, this moment. I took another bite of cake to stop myself from smiling, and I couldn’t help noticing just how right everything felt. We were all together, finally. Things were finally going back to how they should be.

“Charlie, don’t you think your piece is a little large?” my dad asked, and as I looked down at it, he removed the plate from my hands so skillfully that I didn’t even realize it was happening until it was too late. “I’ll just help you out with that,” he said, taking a bite.

“Hey,” I said, laughing as I tried to get it back from him.

“There is so much more cake in the fridge,” my mother pointed out, shaking her head. But she didn’t sound annoyed—she sounded tired but happy. I looked over at her, curled in her favorite armchair, and smiled at her. She smiled back, giving me a tiny wink. “If any of you would get up, you could easily get some more.”

“They’ve all had enough,” my dad said, his mouth full, as he held my plate out of my reach.

“My cake. Dad!”

“Who paid for it?”

“Technically, me,” I said, giving up and leaning back against the couch cushions. I’d already told the story of the supermarket cake run—leaving out, of course, the slow dancing by the bread aisle.

“Fine,” my dad grumbled, spearing the world’s smallest bite on the fork and handing it to me.