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“What about Marlow?”
“I thought you worked things out,” Dad said, eyeing me suspiciously.
“Uh, well . . .” I looked to Andrew for help, but he hid behind his drink. “Things got ugly after you left. She said some things, and I’m not anywhere close to over it.”
Dad gasped. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because you and Mrs. Quinn are figuring things out. This is the first time in weeks you’ve seemed like yourself. No need to bring you down over something you can’t do anything about.” I polished off my drink. “Anybody need a refill?”
I stood and stepped my way over legs and feet to the main aisle. I jogged up the steps and once I reached the concession stand, the line wasn’t near long enough to my liking.
I loved my family, that we were close. But sometimes it felt like I was suffocating. All I’d wanted was to belong, but I guessed that meant at my own standards. I appreciated their perspective, but there was no chance in hell I would let Baker set foot in Wyoming.
I had to figure out how to put the brakes on this plan. Pronto.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Baker
“It tookus long enough to get together, right?”
Trish pushed and pulled Ella’s stroller with her foot while we lazed on a park bench.
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” I said, relieved to finally have a moment with my best friend. Work at the magazine had been crazier than usual. One of the public figures we were supposed to profile had been in a motorcycle accident and wanted to push back her feature. We’d been scrambling to rearrange. And . . . I’d been spending every spare moment with Holt.
A little jolt went through me at the thought of him. We’d spent lots of late nights making plans about the shop. I’d let myself think a lot about the future lately instead of dwelling on the past.
It still scared me, but excited me too.
“We can’t let a week go by again without talking,” Trish said solemnly. “I honestly don’t know where the time goes. Only that it’s been a whirlwind.”
I held out my pinky like the kid I wasn’t, and she met mine with her own. We hooked fingers. “Pinky swear.”
“Pinky swear.” We grinned at each other. “I have news that was too important to share on the phone or in a text.”
She paused pushing Ella. “Andrew and I are getting married.”
“That’s terrific.” I automatically glanced at her left ring finger, genuinely excited for her, but prayed my voice didn’t betray the unbalanced way I felt.This is great news. Trish deserves this.
“No.” She laughed. “No ring yet. That will happen. We were going to wait, but the time is right. Ella and I belong with Andrew.” A wistful expression shaped her pretty features. She reached for my hands. “I want you to be my maid of honor.”
“You do?” I’d never been close enough to anyone to be asked something like that. It meant so much.
She nodded. “Of course I do. I can’t get married without you by my side.”
A few minutes ago I'd felt that tickle of being unwanted and now the pendulum had swung to the other side . . . a side I liked much better.
“I’d love to be your maid of honor.” I twisted to face her. “When’s the big day?”
“Next weekend. In Wyoming. Unless you can’t make it,” she said quickly. “Then we’ll wait.”
“Wow. That’s fast.” She was moving forward with her life and deserved all the joy that had seemed impossible not so long ago. But Trish had always had a light, a positive attitude I admired, even if I struggled to do the same. “I’ll figure it out,” I promised. And I would find a way to be at the wedding, no matter what. Alarm bells went off in my head. “Wait. Wyoming?”
“Holt needs to get the rest of his things, so when he said he was going to Wyoming, Andrew thought it would be a great place to get married.”
I swallowed hard. In all the times Holt had opened his mouth lately, not one word of any of this had come out. Maybe he didn’t want to spoil the surprise of Trish telling me herself. “Yeah? When did this come up?”
She fidgeted with the hem of her sweater. “Last week. At the hockey game.”
