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CATHERINE
“It was such a beautiful ceremony,”I rejoice in the love of Carlos and Ava as I follow behind Ursula, Chance, and my gang of friends as we gather in front of the Legendary Hall. The bright sun beams down from above, a picture-perfect day.
I peer out toward the parking lot and wait as the remainder of our friends make their way toward the hall for the reception. My gaze ping pongs for a second toward the worker’s area looking for a certain beat-up Nissan Sentra and come up empty.
Chance wraps his arms around Ursula, pulling her into his chest into a bear hug. He places a soft kiss on her cheek and whispers loud enough for me to hear, “Got me thinking it’s about time we renew our vows.”
A cute I’m so in love snicker is her reply as joy floats in the air. Thoughts of a future day like this for me pop in and out of my mind. Of course, I’ve dreamed about it. Of course, I want it. But up to now there hasn’t been anyone that I’ve considered crossing that line with.
During college Shannon, me, and the girls had an understanding. College life was the time to explore. We were there to learn not just in the classroom but socially as well. I dated all types of men and thought I had figured out what I liked and didn’t only to discover later in life that you can’t program your heart. Someone could check all the boxes on a spreadsheet but not put the pitter patter in your heart. And the reverse is true as well, the bad boy that you know you shouldn’t want, yet your body reacts, causing you to travel way too fast on a road you know is closed. The crash inevitable.
I’ve made my share of mistakes, but I am older now. Wiser. And will hopefully recognize it when the right guy comes into my life.
I push away an image that floods my head - Hunter. He checked all the boxes, smart, kind, funny, my spreadsheet complete. He also had my heart racing. Even now, just the thought of him causes heat to well up in my chest. I shake my head. I can’t trust any of it because I have no idea how much of it is real.
Our group grows to seven, that and my missing plus one, makes eight, enough for the full table that Ava set aside for us.
“Shall we?” I ask and turn. Chance, always the gentleman, holds the door open for us and bows as we all march in. I stay behind them and do what I do every time I enter an event space, I scan the area, my active mind running through checklists looking for tidbits to take away.
The marble floor of the lobby shines, that’s a good sign. Frankie Junior apparently took my little dressing down to heart. The chandeliers sparkle in the bright sunlight, the layer of dust from the other day gone. Two points for Frankie. We’re off to a good start.
I may have been hard on Frankie but the Legendary is a special place. If Frankie continues to run it into the ground, it may soon be gone. I know Mr. Franklin well enough from working here to know he’d been looking forward to retirement for years. He has zero desire of returning and restoring Legendary to where it deserves to be.
That’s where I come in. The signs are all there. I’ve taken the Crystal Palace in Indiana as far as I can. No large challenges remain. I miss my family and want to return to my hometown. The Legendary holds a special place in my heart and I know I can restore its reputation.
I rattle off three more reasons why it makes sense. In the back of my head an image of working side by side with Hunter flashes. I shake it away just as quick. He’s walked away from me. I’m not someone he was ever interested in, no matter how hot our chemistry together is. Still, it nags at me - maybe under different circumstances.
Ursula gives me a strange look as she peeks over Chance’s shoulder at the table outside the reception room. The standing easel holds an engraved sign welcoming the newlyweds and guests. Gold and baby blue balloons, the wedding color scheme, framing the doorway.
Chance holds the tiny, tented card with the seat assignments and whispers something to his wife. Her brow pinches and she give me a strange look. Two of my other friends peek over her shoulder and whisper. When their eyes go wide, I know something is wrong.
I step toward the table. “What’s going on?” They all avoid my gaze and point toward the table. My nerves begin to shake as I spot the issue. I’m not at table three with my friends. I’m on the other side of the dance floor at table eight. I scan the names, most of them familiar until I stop at the one I hadn’t expected. Palmer and Claire. “There’s been a mistake.”
I don’t want to jump to conclusions because Frankie had been accommodating of all my other requests. How could he screw this up? I twist toward the office and my question is answered immediately. Palmer strides toward me with a shit-eating grin on his face and Claire pacing three steps behind him.
“I see my luck has indeed changed,” he begins. “I take it as a sign from above.”
My hand fists into a ball, the thin cardstock with the table number scratching my palm. “I see it as a sign of the apocalypse. I’m not sure you should be anywhere close to me when there are knives available.”
He scoffs at my brilliant burn unscathed. Before I can pile on, Claire steps to me. “Palmer just told me you’ll be sitting with us. That’s great. It’d be nice to have a friendly face at the table. I’m still getting to know his friends.”
My teeth gnaw down on my tongue to prevent the words I want to scream from escaping. She’s an innocent. I take a deep inhale. I don’t want to make a scene at a wedding. I can suck it up for a few hours.
I pivot on my heels and catch the last of my friends disappearing into the reception hall room.
“Alone again,” Palmer’s words hit the back of my head and bounce off. His nasty laugh however penetrates. “Frankie and I were talking last night at the bachelor party and he’s thinking of naming the tables at the wedding reception. You know cutesy names for the marketing material. You’ll be happy to know I nominated your name for the singles table. A permanent and lasting legacy for the woman who will always be alone.”
My feet pause for a split second, my hands squeeze tighter, and I fight back the urge to respond. I push through the door and am hit with the scent of fresh flowers accompanied by the soft sounds of the band playing an instrumental version of Miley Cyrus’ “Wrecking Ball.”
My vision burns red, and I fail to run through the remaining checklist for the reception room that I left with Frankie. I just want to grab a seat at the table far away from Palmer. As I step around the dance floor looking for my friends, hoping for a warm smile of support, I come up empty. I pivot toward the growing line at the open bar – no luck.
Alone again. I scrunch my shoulders and take an exhale. I’ve been here before. I turn to face the disaster that awaits me at table eight and halt. My friends are all gathered in front of the table in Misfit Island. Have they all decided to bail on their seat assignment in a show of unity and join me? An image of each of them holding up their tented seat assignment and screaming - I am Spartacus. A united declaration of unity. They will not sit idly by and watch their friend be bullied. They have my back. My hand floats to my chest, the mere thought comforting me.
They spot me approaching and smiles whip across their faces like a strong wind across the desert floor.
For the second time, I approach and ask, “What’s going on?”
My gaze locks on Ursula who is beaming like she did on our first trip to Disney World. She clasps her hands in prayer and presses them to her chest. “Oh my god, this is so sweet.”
