Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 102523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
I nudge Rachel, indicating for her to look at Avery, who does somehow seem better. “It’s working, so I’m not gonna argue with it.”
We smile at each other and let Avery compose herself in peace. In the garden Cara seems to be content with the setup, because she points to us like a symphony conductor.
“Here we go!” the assistant says, opening the back doors.
Cara, who is standing halfway between the door and the altar with a megaphone, kicks into narrator mode. “Okay, here’s how this is going to go: everyone is seated, the groom processional begins, you three walk out in order.” She points to Wren, then Wyatt, then Winston, all three of whom nod.
“Good. Mother of the groom and father of the groom walk out.” Mrs. Ford steps through the doorway and Bill Ford joins her, escorting her to the altar. Winston and his father shake hands, he kisses his mother’s cheek, and then they sit down.
“Perfect. Then my bridesmaids walk this way.”
I wait for Rachel to go, ready to follow in her footsteps as maid of honor. But she freezes, so I nudge her. “Psst! Go, before she pulls out a Taser!”
Rachel bites her lip and looks at Avery in a panic. “Avery, I have an awful, horrible, no-good request that I’m begging of you.”
“What?” Avery asks, her own panic returning as the assistant looks like she’s about to faint at this disruption.
“Remember the favor you owe me? The really big one that we vowed to never, ever discuss again?”
Avery nods slowly.
Rachel takes a deep breath. “Let me walk with Wyatt.” Rachel looks over her shoulder, toward the archway, and then back to Avery. “I think I’ve got a chance. He just needs a bit more time with me.”
In my head, I’m laughing my ass off. Rachel thinks she has a chance with Wyatt?
Good luck, girl. He damn near never took his eyes off me last night, walked me to my car, and nearly kissed me at the bakery. And any man who’ll put on an apron and do bad “makin’ bacon” jokes at two in the morning isn’t available.
But no one knows that. I haven’t even had a chance to tell Avery, considering she has much bigger things on her mind today.
But also . . . last night ended poorly, and I’m not exactly looking forward to awkwardly hooking elbows with Wyatt while he gives me the cold shoulder the way he did last night as he finished up our baking. I mean, my baking.
“Rachel, I . . . uh . . . that’s not . . .” Avery stammers, looking to me for help. I don’t know what to say, though. This isn’t my place.
Finally the assistant hisses, “I don’t care who it is, but one of you needs to walk out there right now. She’s coming.”
We look back to see Cara stomping this way, megaphone in hand.
I make the call, hoping it’s the right one. “It’s fine, Avery. I don’t care. I’m honored to be by your side today, tomorrow, and for the rest of our lives as friends. It’s not about where we stand, it’s about who we are to each other.”
Avery tears up again, and the assistant growls a curse under her breath, grabbing another tissue. But Rachel’s almost giddy. “Thanks, Hazel. Thanks, Avery.”
Without another word, the assistant shoves me out the door. I stumble, nearly tripping over my own feet, but recover as quickly as I can and begin high kneeing it toward the archway. I feel like I’m back in my soccer days, except that I’m in a dress and heels.
Cara lifts her megaphone, calling out, “No, no, no. That’s the wrong bridesmaid! Go back. Everyone go back and start over.”
I make my way to Cara as fast as I can, still feeling like I’m in some sort of bad TV commercial. “It’s okay. Rachel and I are switching places. It’s fine. Keep going.”
Cara sighs dramatically, rolling her eyes to the sky. I think she mumbles something about being done with crazy brides, but if she’s talking about Avery, she’s the least crazy bride ever. “Fine, fine. Keep going, everyone stay in place where you are. Next!”
I drop into a walk, as behind me, I trust that Rachel is following along with this new plan. At least, I don’t hear any more screaming as I approach the arch, and Wren gives me an amused but questioning look.
“Okay,” Cara says once Rachel’s at the archway, “the music will change to the bride’s processional, everyone stands up, Grandpa to the right of the door, and . . . cue Avery.”
The first notes of the song Avery and Winston chose begin, a recording today, but tomorrow, it will be a cello-performed instrumental of “Can’t Help Falling In Love.” It was one of the few things Avery put her foot down about. It was Grandpa Joe’s and her grandmother’s favorite song when Elvis did it, and her parents loved the UB40 version at their reception.