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“That could work—” I started.
“That’s not even Ciara’s vibe,” Brooklyn cut in. “Look at her; does she look like the type to wanna be on a frickenboat?”
“A cruise around the Harbor is agreatidea,” Sara said. “It fits anyone’s ‘vibe’. Even yours, Brooklyn.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Brooklyn growled.
“Hey, I think—” I started again.
“Why not something in town, or if it has to be Boston”—Brooklyn rolled her eyes—“why not at their place? Ciara would feel comfortable as she’d be on her home turf, you all can make it as fancy as you want, and Ciara doesn’t have to spend a bucket-load of money unnecessarily. Not that you care.”
“That might also be a good idea—” I said.
“She doesn’t have to worry about money anymore, unlike you.” Sara sneered. “And not everyone has an aversion to people and things of means. Tuck your bias back in, Brooklyn; it’sunbecoming.”
“You’re about to be very well acquainted withunbecomingif you don’t watch your mouth,” Brooklyn warned, sliding out of the booth and taking off her earrings. “Listen, I told Ciara I wouldn’t do anything until you started running your mouth, but I’m not about to sit here and—”
“Hey, hey!” I said over Sara and Brooklyn. Everyone paused, just for a moment, and I became keenly aware of patrons watching us from every corner of the restaurant. “Brooklyn, can I talk to you outside, please?”
With another sharp look at Sara, she nodded once. “Fine.” She picked up her earrings from the table, turned, and walked toward the door.
“I’ll be right back,” I said to Sara and Mack, quickly sliding out of the booth and following Brooklyn.
When we got outside, I turned to Brooklyn, a frown on my face. “Lyn, what happened to giving things a chance?”
“Why am I the only one being spoken to, as if she didn’t start that shit?” Brooklyn shot back. “I promised that I would keep my cool until she said something to me, and I did. And now that she’s fucked around, she’s gonna find out.”
I sighed. “I know, and I agree that Sara has not been exactly…friendly. And I will hash it out with her—and Mack—too. But you’re mybest friend, Lyn. I need you on my side with a cool head. Especially since you’re gonna be my maid of honor. If you want to, that is,” I added quickly.
Her eyes lit up. “Maid of honor?”
“Of course,” I said, grinning. “Who else?”
She squealed as she wrapped her arms around me and squeezed. “I’d love to be your MOH. Count me in.”
“Good,” I said, squeezing back.
When we separated, I said, “Now, can I count on you to not beat Sara up? Please?”
She took a deep breath, releasing it in a gust of air. “Yes,” she said, sounding more like herself than the woman who took off her earrings in the town diner. “Let’s do this.”
We walked back into the diner, me leading the way, my head held high as if I didn’t just stop an RHOA-level fight from happening in the middle of brunch. We sat down, and before I could open my mouth, Mack spoke.
“Look,” she said, “I know we didn’t run in the same circles in high school, and that there are some…unresolved feelings there.”
Brooklyn snorted.
“But for the sake of Ciara’s wedding, can we put it behind us?” Mack continued. She shot a glare at Sara. “I have already spoken to Sara, and she has agreed to be professional from now on.”
“Agreed,” I said. “And we will also remain professional on our end. Brooklyn is my maid of honor, and I want to make this as seamless as possible.”
“Especially because we know damn well it’s just gonna be the four of us planning this whole fuckin’ thing.” Mack and I exchanged looks and laughed.
When we settled down, Mack said, “Okay. Back to business. This whole time, we’ve been talking for Ciara, but girl, it’syourwedding and bridal party. What doyouwant?”
They all turned to me at once, and in a strange turn of irony, I couldn’t find my voice for a few moments.
I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Though we had come to a temporary truce, the truth was I didn’t even see a need for a bridal party at all, other than to keep up appearances for Zeke. Still, I wanted to make my new in-law family happy and help them be comfortable with me. I was already an outsider, both in economic status and socially. I wasn’t fashionable, or particularly memorable.
