Save the Date(17)

“It’s fine,” Rodney said, looking at Bill, clearly trying to get things back on track. “So, you mentioned the guest list?”

“Yes,” Bill said, flipping open the binder. “The list is capped—”

“Wait a second,” J.J. said, smacking his palm down on the kitchen counter like he’d just thought of something. “I don’t think it said anywhere that this was going to be a binding thing, if I was going to bring a date or not. It didn’t say anything about that on the STD.”

We all just stared at him for a moment, and I noticed that Bill was looking fixedly at his shoes. “What?” Linnie finally asked.

“When you and Rodney gave me the STD,” J.J. said, shaking his head, clearly impatient that we weren’t keeping up. “There wasn’t any disclaimer that—”

“You mean the save the date?” Rodney asked, and J.J. nodded. “Dude. Acronyms aren’t always a good idea.”

“I’m just saying, if you’d put anywhere on any of the invitations that I would be held accountable for what I wrote—”

“J.J., just admit you couldn’t get a date,” Linnie said, shaking her head. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Well, I don’t think you should say for sure I can’t get a date,” J.J. said. “I mean, I don’t want your guest count to be off, after all.”

“Don’t worry about the number of guests,” I said quickly, since I had a feeling I knew where this was going.

“Linnie, give Rodney his money back,” J.J. said grandly. “I’ll get a date yet.”

“By tomorrow?” Linnie asked. “To a wedding? No way.”

“Do you not think I can do it?”

“No,” Linnie said, shaking her head. “That’s literally what I just said, Jameison.”

“Well, then, another challenge accepted, Linnea,” J.J. said, pulling his phone out of his pocket with a flourish. “I will bring a date to your wedding. See if I don’t!”

“Guys,” I said, trying to head this off. J.J. showing up with whatever rando he could get to come to a wedding with him on one day’s notice really didn’t seem like the best idea, and certainly didn’t fit in with my plan for the weekend. “Let’s not—”

“Fine,” Linnie said, talking over me. “And if you can’t, which you won’t—”

“Which I will—”

“You have to publicly admit that you were wrong. And pay me twenty dollars.”

“Oh, it is on.” J.J. stuck out his hand, and Linnie shook it. “Witness?”

“Witness,” Rodney and I replied in unison. “But I don’t think you’re going to pull this off,” he added.

“You don’t, eh?” J.J. asked, arching an eyebrow. “You want to make this interesting?”

“Things are interesting enough,” I said.

“Side bet? Fifty bucks says I can.”

“I’m already out twenty,” Rodney pointed out.

“Fine, I’m in,” I said, relenting. There was no conceivable way that my brother was going to be able to find a date, so I might as well get fifty dollars out of it.

“Say good-bye to your shekels,” J.J. said, raising his eyebrows at me. He turned to Bill. “Billiam? Want a piece of this action?”

“No,” I answered for him. “What were you saying, Bill?”

“Right,” Bill said, flipping open his binder, looking relieved to be back on track. “My uncle wanted confirmation that the rest of the wedding party would all be here by six for the rehearsal.”

Linnie nodded. “There’s an exhibit at the Pearce Museum for my mom. And it starts at four, but we should be back in time.”

“Got it,” Bill said. “But everyone else in the wedding party is confirmed for six?” He squinted down at a piece of paper. “Max, Jennifer, Jennifer, Priya, J.J., Danny, Charlie, Elizabeth, Marcus, and Michael?”

I rolled my eyes. “You can take Michael off the list.”

Linnie sighed. “Charlie.”

I just looked at her as I picked up my donut. “He’s not going to come.” Mike had been invited to the wedding, of course—Linnie and Mike had always been close, just like me and Danny. But he wasn’t coming—I’d just assumed that Linnie had invited him so that he would feel included, but without any expectation he’d show up, same as Rodney asking him to be a groomsman. They were both just gestures.

My siblings had all seen Mike in the year and a half he hadn’t been home—when Danny had business in Chicago, or when J.J. was in town when the Pirates were playing the Cubs. And Linnie and Rodney had gone to see him last summer. But I hadn’t, and neither had my parents, and I didn’t think a wedding would be the best time to have what was sure to be an incredibly awkward reunion—and I had a feeling Mike probably felt the same way.

“I don’t know. I mean—he did RSVP yes,” Linnie said, and even though she shrugged as she said it, I could hear the hope in her voice. “I don’t think he would have done that if he wasn’t going to show.”

“And he said he was bringing a plus-one,” Rodney added. Then he looked at J.J. and sighed. “Although I guess that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”