Save the Date(28)

“I don’t think it’s a great idea to talk about marriage statistics the day before a wedding,” my mother said, shooting J.J. a look.

“I don’t think it’s a great idea to ever talk about statistics,” I added. For years, J.J. labored under the belief that the rest of us were just as interested in hearing about statistics as he was in telling us about them. His favorite joke when he was younger, until we declared a moratorium on it, was “Did you know ninety-eight percent of all statistics are made up on the spot?”

“The data doesn’t change depending on what day it is or is not,” J.J. said, sounding offended by the very notion of this. “And the fact is, half of marriages end in divorce.”

“Well, what about Mom and Dad?” I asked, gesturing to them.

“I think Mom and Dad are outliers,” J.J. said with a shrug.

My dad headed for the door. “I should go say good-bye to my flowers.”

“I’ll come too,” my mom said. My dad held the door open for her, and as they stepped outside, before the door closed behind them, I heard my dad ask, “Are you okay?”

I could hear my siblings talking—J.J. was apparently exchanging texts with some girl he’d met online, who wanted to come to the wedding but might also be a felon—but it was like it was all happening underwater, or in another room. My thoughts had gone right back to Jesse, and what he was going to do, and what I should be doing. What if he was waiting to hear from me right now and thought it was strange I hadn’t reached out yet? Should I text him? But then, what if Mike saw the text and started asking questions? Maybe I should just text him something benign, like hey.

“Charlie!” I looked over and saw that everyone in the kitchen was staring at me.

“Um.” I blinked, trying to focus, trying to pull my thoughts away from Jesse Foster. “What was that?”

“I asked if you’d heard from Bill,” Linnie said. “Is everything okay at the Inn?”

“Is Billiam not pulling his weight?” J.J. asked, tsking. “It wouldn’t surprise me. I thought he looked shifty.”

“His name’s not Billiam,” Rodney pointed out. J.J. waved this small detail away.

“Right,” I said, looking down at my phone. “Um . . .” The truth was, I hadn’t thought about Bill or the decorations at all. “I think he’s got it under control.” I hoped I sounded more confident than I felt. “I haven’t heard otherwise.”

“Okay,” J.J. said, holding up his phone. “I got more details. She was arrested but never actually served time. It was just a Mardi Gras–related offense that I’m very interested to know more about.”

“No felons,” Rodney said.

“I’ll check in with Bill now, and—” My phone buzzed with a text.

Danny

Hey. I’m here.

I felt my heart leap in my chest as I looked down at my message. My big brother—my favorite person—was back.

“Danny’s here,” I said, feeling a smile start to take over my face as I ran toward the kitchen door. I didn’t wait for a response, just pushed my way through it, and ran across the deck, past the garage, and toward the driveway.

There was a luxury SUV parked behind my car, and Danny was climbing out of the driver’s seat. He grinned when he saw me. “Hiya, Chuck.”

“Hey!” I ran toward him, and he pulled me into a bear hug that lifted my feet off the ground. I hadn’t seen my brother in two months, but he looked the same—same dark hair sweeping over his forehead, same tan, like he lived in Southern California, and not Northern, same crinkles in the corners of his blue eyes. He set me back on my feet and smiled down at me from his height of six three.

“Come on,” I said, pulling him toward the house. “How was your flight? We have so much to catch up on—”

“Wait a sec, Charlie,” Danny said, laughing. “There’s actually—I should—”

“Oh, right,” I said, remembering. “So, what’s your surprise?” I looked around. “Did you bring me a Double-Double after all?”

Before he could answer, the passenger-side door opened and a girl got out. She looked around Linnie’s age. She was tall and blond, wearing what had to be four-inch heels, and she was smiling at me.

“Charlie, I’d like you to meet Brooke Abernathy,” Danny said, then took a breath. “My girlfriend.”





CHAPTER 8


Or, Double-Double, Toil and Trouble




* * *



THE SECOND WE STEPPED INSIDE the kitchen, the alarm went off again.

“What’s the code?” Rodney yelled, running over to the panel, which was flashing with red and orange lights.

“Twelve thirty-four,” I yelled, and Rodney nodded. He punched in the numbers, but nothing happened for a few seconds—and then the alarm shut off suddenly.

“Seriously?” J.J. yelled, then seemed to realize a second later than he no longer needed to yell. “That’s really the alarm code?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Why?”

“There’s the bride,” Danny said with a smile as he crossed to Linnie and gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “You’re radiant. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to say to brides? Glowing?”