Time (Laws of Physics #3)(76)

Turning once more, Mona left me to stare after her. I was too distracted, enjoying the view of her backside walking away to say anything else. She gave great view.

But as soon as Mona turned the corner, I shook my head, coming back to myself, and decided I’d try to find my parents, see if I could help with any last-minute arrangements.

Pulling out my phone, I sent my mom a text. But just as I finished, a flash of color caught my eye and I glanced up. I did a double take. And then I took a step back.

My cousin Anna, and my sister Marie, and all of Marie’s close friends were walking across the lobby, and they were all attired in black leather, bright neon spandex, and various random wigs. Even Marie’s friend Ashley, who was visibly pregnant, was similarly dressed.

I braced myself, straightening my spine, especially when Sandra—the handful—caught sight of me and smirked.

“Whale, whale, whale. Look who it is.” Elizabeth Moretti stopped in front of me, her hands on her hips. She was wearing an insane amount of blue eyeshadow and what looked like a David Bowie wig.

My sister stepped forward first to give me a hug, pressing a kiss to my cheek and then using her thumb to rub off excess lipstick. “Did you get Mona? I was just about to text you.”

“I did. She went that way.” I tilted my head toward the room where Mona had disappeared and then turned to greet Anna, giving her a tight embrace.

Sandra rubbed her hands together. “Excellent. Excellent.”

As soon as Anna and I separated, Janie Sullivan—who wasn’t wearing a wig, her naturally curly red hair styled like she’d just survived a tornado—gave me a searching look. “There’s something different about you, Abram.”

“His hair?” Fiona Archer pointed to my head, looking me over with the disinterested attention of a mom surveying one of her kids’ friends.

Janie narrowed her eyes, inspecting me. “No. His hair is the same, isn’t it?”

I tucked my lips between my teeth. For all of Janie’s brilliance, she was terrible with faces and features.

“Can we talk for a moment about the devastating loss of his glorious beard?” Ashley Winston Runous pointed to my jaw with one hand and rubbed her belly with the other. “Damn shame, Abram. Damn. Shame.”

I chuckled at her, rolling my eyes.

“It’s not his face.” Janie scrunched hers as she said this, scrutinizing me. “But it is his face. There’s something . . . different.”

“The suit?” Anna tried, straightening my tie. “That’s a nice suit, Abram. You look very handsome.” My cousin gave me a big smile before adding, “Almost like a real adult.”

“Har.” I elbowed her.

“While we’re on the subject, can I have the name of your tailor?” Sandra piped in. “You and Alex have the same build. It’s hard to find suits that fit those shoulders. I agree with Janie, though. You look different, kid.”

Lifting an eyebrow at her use of the word kid, especially since her husband was younger than me, I was about to make a charming joke and then excuse myself when a quiet voice said, “He’s in love.”

All eyes turned to Kat Caravel-Tyson O’Malley, who was wearing a black leather dress, a blue wig in long ponytails, and a small, knowing smile. “That’s why he looks different. He’s happy.”





Apparently, even before Janie decided to throw my sister a destination wedding, The Bangles tribute band had been in the works. It was revealed just after dinner that the bridesmaids had been meeting over Skype on Tuesday nights, Chicago time, and Mona had tried to make the virtual practices whenever possible. She’d been reteaching herself the piano.

I knew Matt was a huge The Bangles fan. He’d even corrected me once when I’d said, “So, you’re a huge Bangles fan?”

Matt had grimaced, shaking his head quickly, seeming to struggle for a moment, and then blurted, “I’m so sorry I have to be a jerk right now and correct you. It’s The Bangles. You can’t just call them Bangles, that could mean bracelets. I have nothing against bracelets. I’m just not a big fan of them like I am of The Bangles. Or someone might mistake your meaning as—God forbid—the Cincinnati Bengals.”

He looked at me like he was pained, like correcting me physically hurt him, but he simply could not stop himself. And that’s when I realized Marie was right. Matt and Mona were basically the same person.

Honestly, I was okay with that.

The ladies had their final practice in person. It took place during the hour prior to the rehearsal dinner itself. Marie and Ashley sang lead and harmony. Mona played the piano, and Anna—who was also the maid of honor—was on the drums. The rest of Marie’s friends rounded out the band in various roles. Janie and Kat didn’t play an instrument, so they played the part of backup singers with tambourines.

We all saw Marie and the rest of them in their getups during the actual rehearsal for the wedding. Matt and us groomsmen attributed the outfits to some kind of bridesmaids bonding ritual. When the real plan revealed itself after dinner, we were all shocked and awed.

The great thing about having so many people in the tribute band was that they could take turns. Elizabeth Moretti also played the piano. She took over for Mona so that she could dance with me. Ashley sang lead vocals so that Marie and Matt could spin around the dance floor.