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As promised, Colin also took several photos of me with 22 Goats during dinner, which I then posted to Instagram. And when we checked an hour later and noticed Nate the Asshole had liked my photos—since, unfortunately, Nate still follows me on Instagram—Colin and I high-fived like we were Bonnie and Clyde who’d pulled off a daring bank heist.
When dinner was cleared and the live band had started cranking out dance tunes, our group headed to the dance floor and let loose. And that’s what we’ve been doing, ever since. Presently, I’m on the dance floor with Violet and Alessandra, while the men stand in line at the bar again. But when the present song concludes, I tap Violet’s shoulder and gesture, letting her know I’m headed to the restroom, and then bound away to my destination as Violet and Alessandra return to our table to await the next round of drinks.
In the bathroom, I head to a stall and do my thing, wash my hands, and then bop into an adjacent powder room to check my makeup—and that’s where I find Kennedy and two bridesmaids, chatting and laughing while touching up their makeup.
“Sister!” Kennedy coos, before wrapping me in a hug. “Isn’t this fun?”
“So fun! It’s the best wedding ever.”
I chat with all three women for a bit about the amazing band, but when the other two bridesmaids leave, Kennedy leans in and gets down to business.
“Looks like things are going well with Colin,” she says suggestively, her dark eyes glinting.
“Yeah, we’re having so much fun. Unfortunately, it’s not what it looks like, though.” I explain the situation to my new sister-in-law: my job search, Colin’s idea for me to load up my Instagram to impress that employment agency, Nate the Asshole, and Colin’s kind willingness to keep blecchy Luke from flirting with me again.
When I finish talking, Kennedy looks skeptical. “I can’t imagine Colin’s been spending this much time with you, and looking so happy doing it, solely to help you get a job and keep Luke from asking you to dance. I know Colin’s an actor these days, but Robert De Niro couldn’t fake the kind of chemistry I’m seeing between you two.”
My heart is stampeding. But before I’ve replied to that bit of awesomeness, Logan’s amplified voice from the adjacent ballroom wafts into the small powder room.
“Someone, find Mrs. O’Brien!” my brother bellows. “I’ve got a big surprise for her!”
“Ooooh! Sounds like we’d better find Mrs. O’Brien!” Kennedy jokes, before giggling and grabbing my hand.
When my sister-in-law and I enter the ballroom, we find my big brother onstage, standing in front of all three members of 22 Goats and a couple musicians from the wedding band, with everyone behind Logan poised and ready to play their musical instrument. Not surprisingly, given the obvious performance cued up, every guest at the party is now crowded onto the dance floor, tittering with excitement about whatever is about to unfold.
“Mrs. O’Brien!” Logan calls out when he spots his beautiful bride. “Get over here, baby!”
The crowd parts like the Red Sea for Kennedy as she makes her way to the foot of the stage, while I head to a spot a few feet away next to Violet and Alessandra on the dance floor.
“Hey, baby,” Logan says, smiling down at his bride before him. “You remember what I told you the night your all-time favorite 22 Goats song came on the radio during our very first date?” Logan’s smile broadens. “You. Give. Me . . . ‘Fireflies.’”
Everyone, including me, goes apeshit, because we all know what that means: we’re about to enjoy a private performance of 22 Goats’ smash hit, “Fireflies”—a melodic song that’s been imprinted onto the world’s gray matter at this point. Plus, side note, that’s an awfully romantic story.
Without further ado, Dax counts off into his mic, and a second later, the lilting, electric guitar-infused introduction to the song begins, at which point Logan hops off the stage, pulls his squealing bride into his arms, and begins swaying romantically with her to the music. Go, big brother, go!
Earlier, Logan and Kennedy danced their official “first dance” to a tune performed by the wedding band. But as sweet as that moment was, it can’t hold a candle to this one. How many newly married couples have been serenaded on their wedding day by 22 Goats? I’m willing to guess Logan and Kennedy are the only one.
When his cue in the iconic song arrives, Dax leans into his mic and begins singing the first verse, and as he does, he looks down at his gorgeous wife, Violet, with such palpable adoration, such intensity and sexual heat and love, while she looks up at him like he’s the answer to her prayers, I can’t help swooning. As my heart races and pounds, and vicarious fireflies ravage my belly, I shift my focus to Colin behind the drumkit. And that’s when my drunken mind instantly imagines he’s making those drumbeats for me. Serenading me, in musical Morse Code, the same way Dax is singing the lyrics he wrote for Violet.
