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SHELLEY
Merch looks down at the green beans and Brussels sprouts he is cradling while I carefully carry the custard tart.
“Do you think they’ll be any good?” His voice is full of doubt, and he’s frowning now.
“I hope so.”
He casts me a doubtful look, but it’s too late to turn chicken and leave because the door opens, and Palmer smirks at us.
“Smells good,” he says, reaching for one of Merch’s dishes.
“Could taste like shit,” Merch grunts. I swallow down a giggle. Palmer snorts, waving us inside. It smells amazing.
We move through the kitchen, where Lisa is laying the table with cloth napkins. Setting down the dishes on the kitchen island, Merch eyes the table with raised eyebrows.
“This is fucking different.”
Palmer nods in agreement, clapping him on the shoulder and handing him a beer.
“Let’s go watch football. They’ve got this.”
As they walk out of the kitchen, a glass of white wine appears in front of my face. I take it off Lisa, smiling as she gestures to the food we brought.
“They all look amazing.”
“We’ve been learning to cook from YouTube,” I blurt out. “Don’t tell anyone. Merch doesn’t want people to know he cooks with me.”
Lisa’s eyes widen as she giggles, casting her eye over the food again.
“My lips are sealed,” she promises, carrying the two side dishes to the table. “The turkey is almost finished. Maybe another ten minutes.”
Nodding, I drop onto one of the barstools at the island, plucking up a wedding magazine.
“How is the planning going?”
Lisa sighs, taking a seat beside me and a large slug of her wine. “Palmer says I can’t have Vicky as a bridesmaid because she’s a groupie.”
“But she only fucks older dudes, so she’s never been with Palmer?” I wrinkle my nose. After having an amazing pamper session at the salon with her, I am one hundred percent team Vicky. She’s awesome and would be a fun addition to the bridal party.
Lisa shrugs. “I think it’s because he doesn’t want to ask anyone other than Merch to be a groomsman. I suggested Strafe, but he whined about only wanting Merch.”
Fucking typical.
“Maybe Vicky can do our hair and makeup, so she’s able to drink champagne and get ready with us. Then she can meet us at the church?” I suggest. “And she’ll definitely be helping me plan the bachelorette party.”
“It won’t be a big party,” Lisa sighs. “Just the three of us.”
I make noncommittal noises. I think Lisa still imagines herself as the sad young woman trapped in her own head and her parents' huge house. I’ve already asked around.
Lisa is popular at the clubhouse. Wren’s coming, so are Lena, Hope, and Nan, and if Kayley and Ray from Hawks Ink are feeling it, they’re invited too. We’re going to Napa Valley for a girls' weekend. Wine for days. It’s going to be awesome.
Thankfully I’m saved by Lisa’s phone buzzing before she can pump me for information on her bachelorette party. She jumps up, hurrying to the oven and lifting out the delicious-smelling turkey.
My mouth is watering as Lisa puts the finishing touches on it, laying it on the table.
Merch and Palmer wander in without having to be summoned. I guess the turkey smells just as good out there.
“Looks incredible, sweetness,” Palmer says, pressing his face against Lisa’s. She giggles, brushing a kiss over his lips, topping up our wine as we all sit down.
