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I made a face. “I don’t know. They called and said something had gummed up the engine, they weren’t sure what. But God, don’t tell Jeremiah. He’ll just get all holier than thou about how I shouldn’t have always run my car barely above empty and let the sediment or whatever pile up on the bottom of the gas tank.”
Charlie rolled her eyes. “You two will have to put aside your differences and make friends sometime. You’re my maid of honor and he’s Reece’s best man, for God’s sake! You’ll be walking down the aisle on his arm.”
A little shiver went down my spine at the thought, but I shook the feeling away, quickly reassuring her. “Don’t worry, we’ll behave ourselves.”
“You better.”
“You worry too much.”
She shrugged, her eyes narrowing. “Shit,” she said under her breath. “There they are.”
She pasted on a big plastic-looking smile and lifted her hand to wave. I followed her gaze to the top of the escalator where an impeccably dressed woman in a cream-colored pantsuit stood stiffly beside a harried-looking man clutching onto several large pieces of luggage.
Her mother strode off the escalator once it reached the bottom while her husband struggled to get the luggage off, creating a small bottleneck until he was able to shove the two large suitcases forward while dragging another behind him, along with another carryon and a large duffel on top of them.
Charlie had jumped forward, but her dad was free by then, and suddenly there was her mom, right in front of us.
“Darling,” her mother said, and then her eyes scanned Charlie head to toe, her mouth tightening into a line of obvious disapproval. “You look… well.”
“Hi Mom,” Charlie responded, her voice sounding odd, at least to me. “Dad,” she said with more warmth as she maneuvered around the tall statue that was her mother. “Here, let me help you with those.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary—”
But Charlie had already unburdened him of two of the largest suitcases. I rushed forward to take one from her.
They stood in front of each other a little awkwardly until Charlie finally went in for a hug. She hugged her dad first, then, both of them stiff, her mother.
“This is my best friend, Ruth. She’s the wedding planner I told you about.”
I gave a little wave.
Her mother’s scrutinizing eyes came my way, and like she had with her daughter, she gave me the once over. She didn’t bother hiding the fact that she found what she saw lacking.
Then again, with the perfect make-up and hair she had going on, it probably wasn’t surprising that she wasn’t into my t-shirt, jeans, and boots.
Still. She could’ve been a little less obvious about it. Charlie had tried to warn me about her mom, but I didn’t think she’d actually be such a caricature in real life. But apparently Napa Valley Rich Bitch had been the perfect moniker after all.
I smiled brightly, determined to make the time with this lady stress-free for Charlie. “This way. We aren’t parked far.”
Charlie’s mom exchanged a long-suffering look with her father. “I told you we could call a car.”
And I caught Charlie’s exasperated glance. Picking her mom up from the airport was supposed to be a nice thing, but this lady was a real trip.
“Nonsense,” I said, still smiling over-brightly. “Plus, it’d be too easy for a car service to get lost in the hill country when GPS cuts in and out. And this way you and Charlie can get started catching up. It’s going to be a busy week. We’ve got all sorts of things on the itinerary.”
“Oh,” her mother said, looking slightly mollified as she pulled out her phone. “I didn’t receive an itinerary.”
Aha. Right. “Well,” I said, tugging the heavy suitcase along behind me as I led the way out of the airport. “I’m still solidifying the details on some activities, but then I’ll shoot it right over to you. What’s your email?”
I’d shoot that email right as soon as I, ya know, actually wrote down the itinerary and made it all nice and pretty looking, considering at the moment the planned activities were just jotted down on a bunch of sticky notes all over my and Charlie’s apartment.
“Why tell you now when you have nowhere to write it down?” her mother asked coldly. “Really, I would have thought you’d have covered this detail by now. How is everyone supposed to coordinate their schedules when we have no idea what to expect one moment to the next?”
Well, considering you’re basically on vacation, lady, I didn’t think you’d have much of a schedule to coordinate, but I just smiled and nodded. “Great point. I’ll get right on it.”
Things just got better and better once we got out to the parking lot and to Charlie’s car.
She’d been so proud of being able to save up enough money to buy it a couple months ago—a fifteen-year-old Honda Civic with some hail damage and a hundred thousand miles on it that she’d named Rhonda. She kept it pristinely clean inside and couldn’t have been prouder if it were her own child. Considering where she’d been only six months earlier, homeless and on the run, I supposed it made sense.
