Save the Date(71)

“I did,” Max said, rolling the juice glass between his palms. “And I thought I was good to go. But then yesterday during the rehearsal dinner, someone—maybe Rodney’s cousin?—was talking about how you can’t do the online-ordination thing in Connecticut. And I looked it up, and . . .” Max didn’t finish the rest of the sentence, just tossed back a shot of his orange juice like it was whiskey.

“It’s okay,” Bill said, his voice soothing, even as he exchanged a look with me that perfectly encapsulated what I was thinking. Namely, that this was bad.

“So,” I said, pouring myself some juice and taking a long sip, hoping all those hospital shows were onto something. “Who can perform weddings in Connecticut?”

Max pulled out his phone and looked down at it. “From what I can tell, you have to be an actual member of the clergy. Any type of religion, but that has to be like what you do. You can’t be a one-day online minister.”

“Oh,” I said, my hopes dimming. We weren’t religious in my family, and though Rodney didn’t bring it up often, what he had said led me to believe that he wasn’t a fan of organized religion. I had a feeling that neither he or Linnie would be thrilled to learn they were suddenly going to have a religious ceremony—if we could even find anyone to do it, day of. And would any sort of minister or rabbi worth his or her salt even be willing to step in and marry two heathens? Could they—did you have to be a part of that religion first? My head started to hurt, and I leaned back against the kitchen island.

“Wait,” Bill said, sitting up straight. “Isn’t Rodney’s father in the military? Can’t ship captains marry people?” He pulled out his phone and typed into it, then his face fell a moment later. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “It doesn’t count on dry land, apparently. I guess captains lose their power on land.”

“Like Aquaman,” Max said with a nod.

“Hang on a sec!” Bill was looking down at his phone, scrolling through it fast. “Judges can also marry people in Connecticut. Even retired judges. They retain the ability to marry people in the state. And it’s totally legal.”

“That’s good,” Max said, nodding emphatically. “That could be good. Um . . . do you know any judges?”

“I don’t,” I said, trying to think if there was a possibility either of my parents would be able to call in a favor, on a Saturday, for someone to perform a same-day wedding.

“So, should I tell them?” Max asked, meeting my eyes.

I glanced over at Bill, then looked back at Max. I really didn’t want to start off my sister’s wedding day—which was supposed to be the happiest day of her life—by telling her we were down an officiant. “Let’s see if we can figure something out,” I said slowly, wondering if it was the right decision even as I was saying it. I met Bill’s eye, and he gave me a small nod.

“Morning.” I looked over to see Rodney standing in the doorway, yawning.

“Everything’s fine!” I said too loudly.

Rodney frowned. “What?”

“I mean . . . morning to you too. How’d you sleep? Want some juice?”

“I’m okay,” Rodney said, yawning again as he headed for the coffee maker. “Did anyone make coffee?”

“Did someone say coffee?” J.J. asked, vaulting himself over the last two steps of the kitchen stairs, then stumbling slightly, managing to recover without falling over, and shooting me a big smile. I glared back at him.

“I’m making it,” Rodney said as he started filling the pot with water. “Apparently.”

“What’s your damage?” J.J. asked, pushing himself up to sit on the counter.

“Um, remember I was supposed to stay in your room last night?” I asked, then immediately hoped Bill wouldn’t think I was upset that I’d had to stay in the same room as him. “It wasn’t a big deal,” I added hurriedly. “But—”

“Why couldn’t Charlie stay in your room?” Rodney asked.

J.J. just looked at me, his eyes wide, and I realized this wasn’t something he wanted Rodney to know about, which surprised me—usually J.J. was the first one to tell you about any sort of romantic development in his life, always convinced after the first date that he’d met the girl he was going to marry.

“He, um,” I said, looking at my brother, “locked the door.”

“I did,” J.J. said quickly, shooting me a grateful look. “Sorry about that, Charlie.” I gave him a small smile back, and then J.J. squinted at Max, who looked like he was about to fall over, or vomit, or both. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Bill and I said at the exact same time, which I had to admit, didn’t help things seem less suspicious.

“Yeah, right,” J.J. said, shaking his head. “What is it?”

“Um . . .” I tried to think of something non-wedding-related. “I think we have a ghost?”

“A ghost?” Rodney asked.

I nodded. “I think the dog saw something this morning. He kept growling at the ceiling.”

J.J. rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s all the proof I need.” He looked around. “Is there breakfast?”

“Morning.” I looked over to see my dad pushing his way through the door to the kitchen, rubbing his hands together. “It’s cold today, isn’t it?” Rodney shot him a look, and my dad immediately shook his head. “I meant, not cold. It’s not cold at all. Perfect wedding weather. Is someone other than Charlie making coffee?”