Save the Date(37)

“How was the drive?”

“Not bad,” Max said with a slow smile. Max didn’t seem to ever move too quickly or get too upset about anything—and he always, frankly, seemed fairly stoned, which Rodney had assured me was not an incorrect observation.

“I thought I heard the best man,” Rodney said as he came into the front hall from the kitchen. He reached out to hug Max, but Max just tightened his arms around his bag and took a step away.

“Hey, man,” he said, adjusting his bag and then smiling at Rodney. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Rodney said, glancing at the bag Max was clutching to his chest. “Uh—can I help you with your bag?”

“No!” Max yelled, then cleared his throat. “I mean . . . I’m fine. I’ll just . . . handle this one myself.”

Rodney exchanged a look with me. Stash? I mouthed to him, and Rodney rolled his eyes but then nodded. “Everyone’s in there,” he said, tipping his head toward the family room. “Want to come say hi?”

“Um,” Max said, shifting his weight between his feet. “I’d actually like to put my stuff down if that’s okay? Get settled in?”

“Sure,” Rodney said, giving him a knowing nod. “Just open the window this time, okay?”

“No,” Max sputtered. “That’s . . . that’s not . . .”

“He’s staying in Dad’s study,” I said, and Rodney nodded as he picked up the suitcase resting at Max’s feet.

“I’ll get you situated,” Rodney said, heading up the front stairs, Max following behind, still gripping his bag tight.

They had just disappeared up the stairs when there was a loud crash from the family room, followed by silence. I hurried into the room and felt my eyes widen as I saw what had happened. The model of the seating arrangements was lying on the ground, the tiny chairs and tables scattered around it, most of them smashed. J.J. and Kevin the Lighting Guy were each holding one end of our couch, and both of them were looking very guilty.

“Uh,” J.J. said as he dropped his end of the couch, causing Kevin to stumble forward. “It’s okay, right? No big deal . . .”

The back door slammed, and a moment later, Linnie was walking fast into the family room, followed by our parents. “Is everything okay?” she asked. “I heard—” She stopped short as she saw the model on the ground. “What happened?”

“So,” Jill said, sounding more and more tightly wound. “Can we just get this cleaned up and reset? If we could be ready to go in the next five, we should be okay.”

“We won’t be okay,” Linnie said as she looked up from the pieces of the model, “because the seating arrangements have just been wrecked!” He voice was high and trembling, the way it always was before she was about to burst into tears.

“It’ll be okay,” my mom said as she bent down next to Linnie and helped her gather up the pieces of the tiny chairs. “Surely you had the table numbers on the place cards?”

“No,” Linnie said, and I could tell that she was now meltdown-adjacent. “Because Clementine was supposed to do the place cards. So that model was all we had to tell us the seating arrangements!”

“Maybe Clementine did the place cards and Will has them,” I said, jumping in, even though I doubted it. If you’re neglecting your clients and fleeing with their money, I’m not sure you’re taking the time to fill out place cards. “I’ll call him, and—” I pulled out my phone and saw I’d missed a call and text from Siobhan.

Siobhan

OMG JESSE! We must discuss.

Also call me ASAP I need to talk to you!

I made a mental note to call her back later as I scrolled through my phone, looking for Bill’s number.

“We need to figure out what to do,” Linnie said. “Because if Clementine didn’t do the place cards, all the work we did figuring out where everyone would sit is just gone.”

“I actually took a picture of the model.” This was Brooke, of all people, holding out her phone to Linnie as she took a step forward. “So maybe you can use that to see the seating arrangements?”

“You took a picture?” J.J. asked.

“Yeah,” Brooke said, her cheeks going slightly pink. “Sorry if that’s weird. My sister is getting married, and I thought it was such a neat idea. . . .”

“She is?” Danny asked. “Since when?”

“Since four months ago. We talked about this.”

“Oh, right. Sure.”

“I hope it’s helpful,” Brooke said, handing her phone to Linnie.

“Thank you,” my sister said, sounding grateful, and much calmer. “I really appreciate it. Mom, can you help?”

Feeling like this crisis had been resolved for the moment, I started to put my phone in my pocket just when it buzzed with a text—from Jesse.

Jesse

Hey. So great to see you today.

Thinking about you.

I stared at the words he’d written, trying to keep a smile off my face, my heart pounding. I quickly walked over to the front hall, feeling like I needed some privacy as I wrote back.

Me

Me too

Maybe I can see you soon?

A second later, Jesse replied.