Save the Date(76)

“Hi, Dad. Um, what—”

“That dog has dug up my flower beds.” My dad’s voice was rising with every word, and I held the phone a little bit away from my ear, which had started to ring.

“Oh no. You mean—”

“Yes,” he snapped. “The flowers that were going to win me the title have been ruined. Utterly and totally wrecked.”

I suddenly remembered Waffles’s paws when he came back in after I’d let him out into the yard. Clearly, this explained it—he’d gotten them dirty destroying my dad’s dreams.

“This was my last shot, Charlie. And now it’s gone.”

“I’m really sorry, Dad,” I said. “Um—”

“Where did this dog even come from?” my dad asked, lowering his voice. “Are we sure Don’s not behind this?”

“He’s not,” my mother said firmly. “Charlie, just come back soon with your brother. And the bagels.”

“Right, the bagels,” my dad said, sounding a bit more like himself. “What’s taking so long?”

“There’s just, um, a really long line,” I said. “Be back soon!” I hung up before my parents could ask me any more questions.

“If you could just see where we’re coming from here,” Bill was saying as I joined him. His voice was wheedling and friendly, but there was a definite edge to it, like his infinite cheerfulness was finally being tested. “There’s a wedding in a few hours. And we really need our suit back.”

“And if you could see where I’m coming from,” Ralph said, smoothing down the lapels. “Which is not wanting to arrive in one suit and change partway through an event! I’ll be a hashtag laughingstock.”

“Um,” I said, looking at the people standing around, none of whom seemed to care all that much about what people were wearing.

“Look,” Bill said, dropping the friendly manner altogether. “I didn’t want to have to get the authorities involved. But . . .”

“Oho!” Ralph said, looking not at all scared by this threat, but weirdly delighted. “And say what, exactly?”

“Well—” I exchanged a glance with Bill. “That you stole a suit?”

“But that’s where you’re wrong,” Ralph said, shaking his head. “I was given a suit. I didn’t knowingly steal anything.”

“But now you know,” Bill pointed out, shaking the garment bag in his direction. “So don’t you have some obligation to, um, rectify the situation?”

I noticed with alarm that people were starting to put down their coffee cups and napkins and make their way into the area with the chairs. What if Ralph just left, still wearing Rodney’s suit? Bill and I were crashing this event, so it wasn’t like we could complain to anyone about it. “Look,” I started, just as two men who looked around Ralph’s age passed him as they made their way to the ballroom.

“Donnelly,” one of them said, with a nod.

“Your Honor,” the other one said.

“I have to be going,” Ralph said, starting to edge toward the ballroom. “But—”

“You’re a judge?” I blurted out, feeling my heart start to beat hard. “Like . . . a real one?”

“Yes,” he said, folding his arms on top of Rodney’s suit. “But if you think that my role changes my position about this—”

“No, it’s not that,” I said quickly. I looked over at Bill and saw he was pretty much thinking the same thing that I was—that maybe we had an opportunity here. “But, like, you’re a judge judge,” I said, feeling that after Max, it couldn’t hurt to make sure of these things. “You’re not just a judge on TV, right? You can do all the things judges can do?”

“I’m a probate judge,” Ralph said, looking increasingly confused. “But I don’t know what that has to—”

“What does that mean?” Bill asked. “Like—people on probation?”

“No,” Ralph said, his voice heavy with disdain. “I handle wills and estates.” We must have both looked blank, because he sighed and said bluntly, “Dead people.”

“Oh.” I nodded, thinking this might not have been a bad choice for Ralph, if this was the way he interacted with the living. “But you can do all the things judges can, right? Like . . . you can marry people?”

Ralph’s eyebrows flew up, and he looked from me to Bill. “You two seem a little young.”

“No,” Bill said quickly, and I could see that the tips of his ears were turning red. “Not me and Charlie. We’re not . . . I mean, we’re just . . .”

“It’s for my sister,” I said, jumping in, noticing that almost everyone else had made their way into the ballroom by now, and starting to talk faster. “She’s getting married tonight, and we’re down an officiant. They’re not religious, so we need to find a judge. . . .”

“Let me guess,” Ralph said. “Someone got ordained online, then found out you can’t do that here?” Bill and I nodded, and Ralph shook his head.

“So, would you be willing to do it? You can keep the suit,” I promised recklessly. “And even attend the wedding if you want. You can have dinner and everything! Um . . . do you like salmon?”