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The sales attendant appeared to explain the bustle to me, but I only half listened as Mom continued to fiddle with the dress, inspecting every detail, pointing out any possible snag or stain before the attendant left with a paper full of notes and a tape measure around her neck.
My mom spun toward to me. Even in the drab light of the dressing room, she sparkled. “Frank and I want to take you and Jason to brunch tomorrow.”
I wrinkled my nose. I’d gotten away with not having to interact with him so far, and I hoped to hold off until the actual big day.
“We’ll pick you up at eleven.” She beamed. “He’s cute, isn’t he? Frank speaks so highly of—”
I opened the magazine back up with an irritated flick of the wrist. “All right, all right. You don’t have to try so hard. I know you did this to set me up with him.”
“Did what? Get engaged?”
“No. The maid of honor, best man thing. I’m not interested.”
“First of all,” Mom said, sliding the brightly color page full of bouquets out from my grasp, “who else would I have as my maid of honor besides my daughter, who is, most of the time, wonderful, caring, and lovely? And second of all, I had nothing to do with Frank’s choice of best man.” She sat down, wiggling into the few inches between me and the arm of the lounger.
I shifted over, but there wasn’t enough room, so she hoisted me into her lap. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders.
“Some things never change,” she said with a laugh, then more seriously, “Frank practically raised Jason, so I would assume he would be the only choice to stand next to him on our wedding day. And yes, I thought maybe you two would hit it off, but I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to.” She held my hand in her own, her eyes drooping like a puppy’s. “If you don’t want to be my maid of honor, you don’t have to.”
I blew out a guilt-ridden breath. “You’re not forcing me to do anything. I’m happy to be your maid of honor.”
My mom perked up, squeezing my middle until I squeaked out a giggle.
As if I was ever really going to say no to her. “And I’ll go to brunch tomorrow.”
She pulled me to stand up next to her, looping our arms together. “This time, Gemmie, I’m going to do it right. With the right man, for the right reasons. I only want you to be happy for me.”
“I am happy for you, Mom.” I smiled at her reflection in the mirror. “Very happy.”
* * *
By the time Frank, my mom, and I arrived at the café, Jason was already seated at a table outside. He stood up and slid his aviators off before shaking hands with Frank, who asked, “Were you waiting long?”
“About ten minutes,” Jason answered, kissing Mom on the cheek. “How are you?”
She smiled widely, petting his jaw in a motherly fashion. I wanted to puke. “I’m fine, thank you,” she said. “I’m sorry we’re late. Gemma was running behind this morning.”
Jason turned, peering down his nose at me. My sour feelings hadn’t lessened, but I refused to get into it with him again.
I was a lady.
We settled into our seats as a waitress appeared at the table. “My name is Jessica, and I’ll be serving you today.” She smiled politely, writing down everyone’s order until her sights landed on Jason. She smoothed her apron over her hips, color rising in her cheeks as she smiled brightly at him. He played along with her flirtations, sliding his sunglasses back on, covering up his steely-eyed gaze.
In my head, I stabbed him right through his eyes as he ordered his omelet with a side of bacon. His mouth quirking up in a way that Iknewwas on purpose. Eating meat just to piss me off.
Well, it was goddamn working.
“You let me know if you need anything,” Jessica said to the table, though her attention fixated solely on Jason.
“We will. Thank you, Jessica.”
My mom opened her napkin. “Seems like you’re quite popular with women, Jason.”
He only shrugged, his knee bumping against mine as he shifted in his seat. And it might as well have been an electrical shock by the way we both jumped at the touch.
Frank wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. “Gem, how do you ride your bike around in this heat?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Jason place his elbow on the table, his hand at his chin, almost as if he was interested in my answer. I angled away from him. “It’s not bad. You get a nice draft.”
