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He scoops up another ladle full and pours it into my bowl.
“So, maid of honor,” he says with an eyebrow raised. “Does that mean you have to make a speech?”
“Yes!” I say as the fear comes rushing back. “I’m freaking out about it. I copied a bunch of jokes from a speech-writing website, but they’re not very funny.”
“You want to run it by me?”
“Really?” I say, perking up on the stool. “You don’t mind?”
He fills himself a bowl of the soup and leans on the counter. “Not at all.”
“Okay,” I say, taking a deep breath as I go and get it out of my purse. “It’s not very good. I’m warning you now.”
He chuckles. “Just read it.”
I clear my throat and read him the entire speech. He listens attentively, but doesn’t laugh at any of the lame jokes I copied from the website. My cheeks are burning with embarrassment when I get to the toast at the end. I hate this speech. I don’t want to do it. Why does the freaking maid of honor have to make a speech anyway? I’m not the one getting married! It’s bullshit.
“Horrible, huh?” I say with my shoulders drooping down.
“It sounds like you copied it from a website.”
“I did!” I shout in frustration as I crumple the paper into a tight little ball. “Maybe I can pretend that I got sick in the rainstorm and lost my voice! I can talk like this all night,” I say with a hoarse whisper.
“That’s your plan?”
“I don’t know!” I say, freaking out as he calmly eats his soup. “Do you have a better idea?”
“Yeah,” he says. “Rewrite your speech from the heart.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
He shrugs those big shoulders. “Talk about what it was like when you met Mia. All the fun times you’ve had together.”
My mind starts working as I stare at him. That could work…
“How long have you known her?”
“About fifteen years.”
“So, you must have lots of material to draw from. Do you remember your first sleepover?”
I burst out laughing. “I ate so much cotton candy that I got sick and threw up on her couch in the basement. She told her parents it was her so I wouldn’t get in trouble. She was so sweet. Looking back, I’m pretty sure her parents knew what was up, but they played along.”
“That’s a good story to add,” he says. “People will love that. Do you have any inside jokes between the two of you?”
“Yeah,tons.”
“Sprinkle some of those in, but don’t explain them. Mia will laugh and that will make the audience laugh.”
“You think?”
He nods his head as he takes his last bite. “Think of fun stories or heart-warming stories. It doesn’t have to be funny. It can be sweet too.”
My mind is spinning with ideas as he opens a drawer and grabs a pen and a pad of paper. He places them both in front of me.
“I’m going to take a shower,” he says as he lingers beside me. “Why don’t you try again and think of your best friend while you write instead of thinking of everyone in the audience.”
I don’t even answer. I’m too busy scribbling a new speech down.
