Badge Bunny Page 10

  “Can you grab the veggie trays from the fridge and put them in the cooler?” she asks.

  “Aren’t the groom’s parents supposed to take care of the rehearsal dinner?” Mrs. Wilson asks, weaseling her way back into the conversation again. Meanwhile, Sonnet’s mother doesn’t say a word or lift a finger to rein in the critical, overbearing matriarch of the family.

  “Drew’s parents are paying for the rehearsal dinner,” Sonnet seethes between clenched teeth. “We just got fresh veggies from our neighbor’s garden and thought the veggie trays would be a nice touch.”

  She turns to me and mouths, “Not that my parents paid for a damn thing!” No sound comes out of her throat, but I heard her loud and clear. She had already told me her parents insisted that flying up for the wedding was as much money as they could swing on their fixed income. Sonnet said it was true they were living on a fixed income, but it is the interest on their trust, which earns them, on average, a cool million every year. I don’t know how they reconcile the hippie thing with the millionaire thing, but I guess that’s none of my business. I’m surprised she even invited them, to tell you the truth. I’m not sure I would have been able to. Like I said, it’s none of my beeswax.

  We load up the rest of the things into Sonnet’s car and start the procession out to Miller’s Adventure Outpost on the little peninsula that juts out into Little Assawoman Bay. (Do you really think I could make a name like that up?) It’s remote; there is only one way in, and there’s pretty much no way to get lost as it’s only one turn off Route 54, but the Jaynes and the evil grandmother have insisted on following us. We’ll bring Sophie with us, and Claire is driving Lindy and Karen in her car.

  Off to the south, the clouds are stacking up in thick gray layers. It’s only four o’clock now, a long way from sunset, but it looks like the sun has already given up for the day. According to the forecast, we’re probably going to get some rain, but, thankfully, it looks like the huge storm system off the coast of North Carolina has stalled. They’re just waiting for it to turn now, which should happen sometime in the middle of the night. Sonnet has a buddy who works at NOAA, and she assured us the most we’d get is wet. She promised we weren’t going to get the high winds and flooding they’re getting in the Outer Banks this weekend. Thank goodness!

  I see the first raindrop splatter across my windshield as we make the turn onto the little peninsula where Ben’s camp is located. Tall wooden poles flank both sides of the narrow path, which is covered in gravel made from broken seashells. Each pole holds a rustic-looking metal lantern that is swinging in the intensifying breeze. When we pass under the final pair of poles, I notice a beautiful garland with flowers, starfish and seashells in the wedding colors is strung between them. The big wood sign at the entrance denoting Miller’s Adventure Outpost is covered with a banner reading “Congratulations, Sonnet & Drew, May the Fourth Be With You!”

  “Oh god!” Sonnet gasps as she reads the sign. “I did not have anything to do with that! Did you see it? Drew must have ordered it!” She shakes her head. “I knew getting married on Star Wars Day was a bad idea. I can only imagine what other tricks he has up his sleeve.”

  I giggle as lightheartedly as possible. We all know Sonnet is a bit of a control freak. I don’t know how much say Drew got in the wedding preparations, but surely she doesn’t expect him not to add any of his own personal touches. I already heard about the way he proposed to her last summer by performing an original song he wrote just for the occasion. Obviously that dude’s creativity is not easily suppressed!

  “I think it’s sweet,” Sophie points out from the backseat. “And Star Wars is cool. I hope there are lightsabers!” She has a wistful tone in her voice.

  “There better not be light sabers!” Sonnet cries out. “It’s bad enough I agreed to a Star Wars theme for the cake. And maybe one song. I already told him no to wearing my hair in Princess Leia buns!”

  The wind is picking up, and the rain begins to pelt the car even harder. “I’m sure this rain will clear out tonight, and tomorrow will be gorgeous,” I assure her as I find a place to park near the shelter.

  “We probably should have had the rehearsal at a restaurant,” Sonnet groans, her head buried in her hands. “But Drew’s parents really liked the idea of having it here, then helping us get everything set up for tomorrow when we’re finished eating.”

  “Sure, that makes sense. All hands on deck, right?” I’m really struggling to keep the mood light. I turn to Sonnet and pat her knee affectionately. “What’s ahead of you in the next 24 hours should be a fun, happy time, Sonnet! Just relax and enjoy it. All of your loved ones are here, and we’re going to make sure it all goes off without a hitch.”

  “Maybe my parents got lost?” she asks hopefully, scanning behind us for her parents’ rental car. Then, sure enough, it comes lumbering across the bridge. “Damn it. Guess not.”

  “They’ll be fine,” Sophie says. “I’ll keep them busy. If your grandmother keeps annoying you, I will run interference. You know how good I am at that, right?!” She gives us a flirty wink.

  I don’t know Sophie very well—and I’m a little put off by the fact she used to date Trooper Asshat, for some unknown reason—but she doesn’t seem like the type who is afraid to speak her mind. Hopefully she can put Mrs. Wilson in her place if she attempts to say anything else unkind.

  Rolling in right after the Jaynes is the rest of the entourage: Claire, the Clarks, and a couple of different vehicles holding the guys and the officiant, who is Ken-The-Wedding-Coordinator’s husband Winston—a man of many talents, I’ve been told.

  I pop the trunk so we can access the coolers we brought. I have a feeling we’re going to need all the wine we packed. There are also a few umbrellas in there. I think we’re going to need those even more.

  The rehearsal and rehearsal dinner seem to have gone reasonably well. I mean, it’s still pouring, and the grounds around the big shelter are getting a little soggy. I stepped in a deeper-than-it-looked mud puddle on my way to the restroom facilities, which are not attached to the main building, but hey, at least I’m not wearing my suit for the wedding tonight, right? When Sonnet saw the mud stains all over my jeans, she shot daggers at me. Like I can control Mother Nature, geez!

  She and Drew are in the main part of the shelter, directing everyone on how they want the chairs set up for tomorrow. Having me around in my muddy attire only seemed to annoy her, so I retreated to the kitchen to see if there’s any beer stashed in the fridge. The wine we had with dinner was a little frou-frou for my tastes. I’ve never been much of a wine drinker.

  I don’t find any beer, but I do see Brynne sitting at a round table in the corner of the kitchen with a bunch of printed wedding programs. “Whatcha doing?”

  “Uh, stapling the wedding programs together?” she answers like I just asked the stupidest question in the history of the universe. She should hear some of the questions I get asked at work if she thinks that was stupid.

  What is with all the women here tonight? They all have a serious case of the attitude. I guess it could have something to do with the snarky remark Sonnet’s grandmother made about the food. Poor Mrs. Clark. I thought she was going to cry. Mrs. Wilson is a real piece of work.

  “Well, don’t just stand there. You could help me, you know.” Brynne looks up at me, and though I’m expecting a snarl on her face, there’s actually a bit of a smirk. A kind of inviting smirk, if I’m reading it right.

  “I was hoping to find some beer in here,” I admit, pulling out one of the chairs at the table.

  Brynne purses her lips, then scans the room as if she’s checking to see if anyone else is around. “I know where the stash is for tomorrow.”

  “You do?” She doesn’t seem like the type to break the rules or run the risk of incurring Sonnet’s wrath, but her eyes are sparkling like not only is she brave enough to do it, but that she already has.

  She pulls the tablecloth aside to reveal a small red cooler. “Help yo
urself,” she says, pushing it toward me.

  “Nice, thanks!” I reach in and grab a cold one, popping the top as quietly as I can.

  “I’m just joking about these being for tomorrow. There’s a keg for tomorrow.” She winks at me. “This is my private stash.”

  “You don’t seem like much of a beer drinker to me,” I observe, noticing how she looks different again today, outside of the hospital. Her hair is bouncy with curls, though some of them have drooped a bit in the rain. She’s not wearing her glasses, and her eyes are made up with a thick black liner echoing their deep brown color.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” she volleys back, meeting my gaze and then quickly glancing down to the program she’s about to staple.

  “Yeah, go ahead and rub it in. I’m still going to figure out some sort of secret about you. I don’t know what it is, but there’s something you’re hiding. And I’m going to figure it out by the end of the weekend. Just you wait and see.”

  “I don’t think so,” she replies, shaking her head emphatically. “I have no skeletons in my closet, no weird hobbies, no embarrassing quirks. I was top of my class in high school and college, and my record as a doctor is absolutely unblemished. I hold several swimming records in my hometown pool, and I can bake a mean pie. I don’t have anything that compares to your secret, Dr. Seuss.”

  My eyes narrow at her. “Don’t you dare call me that in front of anyone else. And besides, I’m not anything like Dr. Seuss. My books don’t rhyme. I’m way more like Maurice Sendak if I’m like anyone.”

  “Oh, isn’t that the guy who wrote ‘Where the Wild Things Are?’ You wish!” she teases me.

  Now that stings. Maurice Sendak was my personal hero. Not to mention Beatrix Potter, Eric Carle, and A.A. Milne. “I prefer to think of myself as C.J. Evans, the one and only,” I tell her just as the door swings open.

  She puts her hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle.

  “Everson, what are you doing in here, man? Come help us move this piano!” Drew chastises me.

  “On my way!” I stand up and start to follow Drew out of the kitchen when Brynne shouts after me, “What about E.B. White? Are you anything like him?”

  It’s pitch black out by the time we finish getting everything in order for tomorrow’s ceremony. It’s still raining, but so dark, I can’t see it coming down. I can only hear it pelting the metal roof of the shelter. Most everyone has left, but Sonnet and I rode together, so we’ll be the last to leave. My brother also gave me some instructions for locking up, so I just made sure the kitchen was all set for the night before going back into the main part of the hall to find Sonnet.

  She’s sprawled out on the floor with her knees up, her head down, rocking herself back and forth as the wind howls outside.

  “Sonnet, what’s wrong?” I rush over to her. “Are you okay? Did you fall?”

  She looks up at me with tear-stained cheeks. “I’m okay.” But her chin is quivering. She’s definitely not okay.

  “Sonnet, come here.” I reach my arms out, and she hesitantly leans into me, then I squeeze her close to my chest. I’m definitely not a hugging kind of person, but I also don’t like seeing people in pain, physical or emotional. Why do you think I became a doctor? I’m just a lot more comfortable making people feel better with drugs and other therapies than I am with affection.

  She turns toward me until her head is resting on my shoulder, then she lets out an ear-splitting wail. “I don’t know if I can do this!” She begins to sob so heavily her next series of words is completely incomprehensible.

  I let her go on for a few minutes before I pull her back and look into her bloodshot eyes. “Is it the weather, your parents, your grandmother, or something else?” I question. “You’re not having second thoughts about Drew, are you?”

  “God, no!” she blubbers, but it’s the clearest thing she’s said yet. She takes a deep breath and swallows down all that nasty phlegm you get in your throat when you ugly cry. Come on, you know you do. “Drew is everything. And we went through hell and back to flip that house a couple summers ago. Man, tragedies really have a way of bringing people together, you know?”

  “Then what is it?” I ask, still confused about what’s made her so upset, unless she’s just riding a crazy train of emotions. And why yes, I now have “Crazy Train” stuck in my head. Thanks, Ozzy!

  “My parents are such assholes,” she says, a single tear sliding down her hot, red cheek. “They are such self-absorbed, tree-hugging, poetry-reciting assholes. I don’t even know why I invited them. And my grandmother somehow manages to make them look like normal human beings, even kind, by comparison.”

  “Are you referring to the comment your grandmother made about dinner to Mrs. Clark?”

  “That, and the way she said Sophie’s dress was too tight, and Claire shouldn’t eat dessert, and Karen’s hairstyle went out in 1985.” She swiped her thumbs under her eyes to clear away some of the stray tears. “She is just a horrible, miserable excuse for a human being, Brynne. I don’t know how in the world she can possibly be related to me!”

  “My mother’s no prize either,” I share. “If I were getting married, I probably wouldn’t invite her. I haven’t even seen her in three years.”

  “What, really?” She squints at me in disbelief. “I know you said you weren’t close, but I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

  “She’s not only critical of everything I do, but she really doesn’t even give a shit about me. She shacks up with man after man, only to have some big falling out, then she moves to a whole other state to ‘get a fresh start.’”

  “Wow,” is all Sonnet says in reply.

  The tears have stopped for now, and in the quiet, I hear the wind making some of the tree branches tap against the building. It would be kind of spooky if I didn’t know what was making the sound. I look at Sonnet, and a tiny smile starts to spread across her face. “So…your mom sounds like a real piece of work too.”

  “That she is. But I’m lucky because I have my brother and sister-in-law, and now my new niece. And they are all amazing. That makes up for it.”

  “They seem great,” Sonnet agrees, “and Harmony is the most adorable kid I’ve ever seen!” She pauses for a moment, looking out into the darkness. I can now see the rain streaming down in the light over the outbuilding. “Can you believe this weather?” she asks, shaking her head. “I told Drew, I feel like this could only happen to us…”

  “Why do you say that?”

  She scoffs, “Oh, you didn’t know me the summer he and I were trying to fix up our house. We were going to flip it—but that’s another story. I can’t even tell you all the crazy things that went wrong that summer. Let’s just say we made an ER trip—I don’t think you were here back then—and we had to call the fire department, the police, animal control, a geologist—”

  “A geologist?” My eyebrow quirks with curiosity.

  “Yeah, girl, you have no idea.” She laughs as she shakes her head again. “I guess that’s why I’m not too worried about this rain. I mean, it’s just par for the course for Drew and me.”

  “Good, I’m glad you’re not worried about that. So it’s really just your family, then?”

  She nods. “Nothing I’ve ever done in my life has been good enough for my grandmother, you know? I was a freaking rocket scientist, and she wouldn’t have thought I was doing anything important unless I was the head of NASA. Even then, she was way more interested in me getting my M.R.S. than my PhD. But when I quit grad school to teach, you’d have thought I moved to Vegas to become a stripper or something, she was so appalled.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “Well, just look at it this way. It’s what…ten o’clock now?” I glance down at my watch and nod. “By this time tomorrow, you and Drew will be on a plane to Greece, right?”

  “Not exactly. We’re staying at a hotel in Fenwick, then leaving for Greece the next morning. But yes to being rid of my grandmother!”

  “That�
��s what I mean.” I wink at her. “You’ve only got about twenty-four more hours of Hurricane Victoria to endure!”

  “That’s not the name of the hurricane stalled over North Carolina right now, is it?” she asks, her eyes wide as if I’ve changed the subject back to the weather.

  “No, no,” I assure her. “I think that’s just a tropical depression now, anyway. And I’m sure it will be out to sea by morning. I think the only hurricane we have to worry about is your grandmother. But this too shall pass, right?”

  She reaches down and squeezes my hand in hers. “You’re right. This too shall pass. And no matter what, by this time tomorrow, I’ll be enjoying my wedding night in the arms of my new husband.”

  “Exactly,” I agree, squeezing her hand back.

  Eleven

  I don’t know why I agreed to stay with the guys at Drew and Sonnet’s house last night. I hate sleeping in strange beds. Drew and I slept head to foot, and I swear he kicked me in the face at least four times. If Sonnet has to sleep with that octopus for the next fifty years of her life, then God help her. Better her than me, that’s all I can say.

  “What time are we supposed to be at the camp?” I question, groggily rolling over to turn off my alarm.

  Drew stuffs a pillow over his face and what comes out is garbled, but I still somehow manage to understand. “We’re going to breakfast first. Meeting my dad in Bethany at ten.”

  “But what time do we have to be over to the camp?”

  “Quit calling it that. It doesn’t sound very wedding-y,” he protests. “Call it the wedding venue, please.”

  “Well, I can tell you’ve been around Sonnet too long. Fine, ‘wedding venue,’” I spit out.

  “I think she said noon, but I’ll text her to find out.”

  “I didn’t think you were supposed to have any contact with her before you see her come down the aisle?”