Little Do We Know(63)

“Sixty. The guest list has ninety-two people, most of them couples, but I wanted to get a few extra in case I decide to add anyone.”

I reached for her binder and scanned the list. Ninety-two names. Ninety-two people who were going to show up at a hillside ceremony, dance in an enormous tent under tiny white lights, and eat and drink thousands of dollars’ worth of food and wine. I figured D-bag’s friends would make up the majority of the wedding list, but a lot of the names were familiar. Friends from her catering circle. High school friends. Couples she and Dad used to have over for dinner, and families we used to visit and go on vacations with.

They might all come to her wedding, but not a single one of them could have been bothered to call or text when Mom wouldn’t get out of bed for nearly a year. I would have given anything for just one of these ninety-two people to show up on our doorstep back then.

“You’re inviting the Jacquards?” I asked.

“Of course I am. We’ve known them all your life.” She unwrapped the cellophane and started stacking the invitations and envelopes in two neat piles. “And you’re going to have to figure out how to be in the same room with Hannah by then, because I’m not about to let this ridiculous fight of yours ruin my big day.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” I muttered.

I checked the list. At least Luke and his family would be there, too. I could always hide out with the four of them.

I peered into the box and pointed at a small cellophane-wrapped bundle tied with a bright blue bow. “What’s that?”

Mom reached for it, tugged at the ribbon, and slid the covering away. “Oh, Emory. Look. It’s our Save the Date card.”

The background was a black-and-white image of Mom and David at the beach, him down on one knee, presenting her with a ring, and her covering her mouth, looking completely shocked. A local photographer staged the whole thing. In real life, D-bag proposed to her one night at our house. When I went out one Saturday night, she wasn’t wearing a ring, and when I came home, she was.

“We should start addressing these this weekend. The Knot says you should send out Save the Date cards six to eight months in advance, so I’m already way behind.”

This weekend.

And after that, there would be no taking it back.





I should have been sick of Luke’s video by that point—I’d already lost count of how many times I’d seen it—but watching it next to him made me feel like I was seeing it for the first time.

On-screen, Luke stared into the camera and said, “Someday, I know I’m going to be in that water again. I’m not ready to die or anything, but I’m not afraid of it anymore.”

The screen went dark and the car was silent.

“What do you think?” I asked.

He made a face. “It’s good, I guess. It’s just weird watching myself talk about what happened like that. I sound so…clearheaded. I don’t feel that way most of the time.”

“You were being totally honest.”

“Yeah.” He slid his finger across the glass, rewinding the video back to the beginning. “I’m not sure I could do that again, but…”

“You’re glad you did it?” I asked, finishing his sentence.

He smiled at me. “I’m glad I did it.”

As he pressed PLAY, watching it a second time, I thought about what Aaron said. I looked at Luke’s face. He seemed relieved. Happy. Happier than I’d ever seen him.

“I’m supposed to ask you a question,” I said when the video ended. I had to say it fast before I chickened out. “We have this big admissions event coming up. It’s basically the way we get kids to apply to Covenant. SonRise is singing. The dance team is performing. And a few people are sharing short testimonials.”

He shot me a look. “If you’re going where I think you’re going with this, no way.”

“Why not? It’s the exact same room, only with, like, two hundred more people in it.” I thought a joke might lighten things up, but he didn’t even crack a smile.

“No way,” he repeated.

“I’m kidding. I figured that’s what you’d say. My dad needs another speaker, and I guess he happened to walk into the sound booth while Aaron was editing this and he got all excited. He thought—”

Luke cut me off. “Wait. Your dad saw this?”

I steeled myself, preparing to hear him lay into me for being so careless. “It was an accident. I’m sorry.”

I waited, still expecting him to be angry or embarrassed, but he didn’t seem to mind. “I don’t care. It’s your dad. He was there when it happened, so…” His sentence hung in the air, unfinished. “Is your dad the one who wants me to speak at your admissions thing?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

I was surprised he’d ask, but he genuinely didn’t seem to understand why anyone would care. “He was moved by the video, and he thinks other people will be, too. You’re relatable, you know? You’re just a normal, average guy who had this extraordinary thing happen to him. And there’s something about you. When you talk, you make people want to listen.”

Luke tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, taking it all in. I didn’t want to push him, but I couldn’t help but think that Aaron had been right about what he’d said in the sound booth.