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“Not true,” Soren said. “You can get certified on the internet.”
“Exactly,” Atticus said. “You’re the perfect choice. Being an artist and all. You’ll make it personal and beautiful.”
I warmed from his compliment. To hear Atticus describe me in such lofty terms made me feel less like the loser of our gang of five. “Well, if you want me that bad, I’ll do it.”
“All you have to do is fill out an application and they’ll approve you,” Atticus said.
“What about me?” Thad asked. “What can I do?”
“I’ll let you know,” Atticus said. “I’m sure there’ll be stuff along the way.”
“Butnotthe bachelor party,” Rafferty said. “That’s my job. I’ll make a Pinterest board to get all my ideas in one place. Don’t worry, I’ll give you several options for everything.”
“I wasn’t worried,” Atticus said.
“No, but Annie might be,” Rafferty said. “I’ll put some color options together first so she can decide what she wants. I mean, there are certain combinations that really pop. Once we know that, then I can put together a list of items.” He looked up at the darkening sky. “There’s a lot to think about. Cake, photos, venue. What date are you thinking? Next spring?”
“No. May thirteenth,” Atticus said. “That’s the day Annie wants.”
“That’s in two months.” Rafferty shook his head. “Impossible.”
“We want simple. Just something here at the house,” Atticus said. “And a nice dinner at the Bunkhouse. Annie wants Italian food. Ever since we spent that week in Venice, she can’t stop talking about the food.”
“Annie will have her Italian dinner if that’s what she wants,” I said, already planning the menu in my mind.
“Caspian has two jobs for the wedding?” Rafferty asked. “That seems like a lot.”
I punched his shoulder. “Easy there, tiger. I have feelings, you know, even if you think I’m an idiot.” His words stung, despite my light tone. He was referring to my ADHD, even though he wouldn’t come right out and say it. Had he forgotten that I ran a successful restaurant?
“I didn’t mean that,” Rafferty said. “You’re busy, that’s all.”
“It’s fine. I’m just busting your chops.” It wasn’t fine, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. We were having a good night. No reason to bring up all that old baggage.
“Mama already had me block cabin reservations for that weekend,” Thad said. “But we don’t usually start filling up until June anyway.”
“Atticus, if you knew the dates, why didn’t you tell us?” Rafferty asked. “We would have had more time to prepare.”
“I didn’t think it was that big a deal,” Atticus said.
“It’s a huge deal,” Rafferty said. “This is the most special day of your life, and it should be perfect.”
“I’m sorry.” Atticus’s lips twitched, but he kept it together. “I didn’t realize you’d take your best man duties so seriously.”
“Maybe you should hire a wedding planner?” I asked, just to bug Rafferty.
“No need,” Rafferty said. “Since it’s going to be small, I can handle everything. I’ll put together a presentation of ideas next week. Are you sure Annie wants such a modest affair?” Rafferty tugged on one ear as he looked across the fire at Atticus. “She’s a movie star.”
“Trust me, she wants this simple,” Atticus said. “She wears gowns for award shows and such, so the dress and all is not a big a deal. Anyway, this isn’t about being showy. We just want to get married with all the people we truly love there to witness it.”
“Sounds sensible,” Soren said. “If it were me, I’d just go down to the justice of the peace.”
“In the unlikely event you find a woman willing to marry a man stuck in the 1950s, then you go right ahead,” Rafferty said.
“Your bride may think differently.” Thad shot Rafferty a look. The be-kind look he’d perfected being Rafferty and Soren’s younger brother. “You never know who you’re going to fall in love with.”
“Any woman I want to marry will not be so impractical as to wish for a wedding I can’t pay for.” Soren tipped his bottle up to his mouth, glaring at Thad over the top.
“Maybe you’re stuck in the 1850s, now that I think about it,” Rafferty said.
