Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 111400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
“Hey, does Griffin . . . know? About Cole and me?”
“He definitely thinks something was up between you guys last week, but I didn’t tell him any specifics. It’s weird, because you’re his sister. He’s said a hundred times that he wishes Cole would get back out there, but he can’t exactly be like, ‘dude, Cheyenne’s into you, you should hit that.’”
I frowned. “Ew. Gross.”
Blair laughed. “But Cole’s his best friend. I’m sure he’d be happy to see you together.”
“Never going to happen,” I said, willing it to sink in once and for all. “I’ve always known it.”
“You never know. Maybe this weekend will change things. Weddings are romantic occasions.”
“I know.”
“I’ll see you later tonight. Drive carefully, okay?”
“I will.”
We hung up, and I slipped the black dress and my crimson velvet bridesmaid dress into a garment bag.
For a moment, I stood there, touching the velvet bodice, imagining Cole in his suit, his arms around me on the dance floor.
That was probably as good as it was going to get.
My mother remained uncharacteristically quiet on the drive up to Cloverleigh Farms. I finally asked her about it, even though I was worried the answer was going to be something like, I’m just so happy for your brother, but I can’t help wondering when you’re going to find the one.
“Something on your mind, Mom?”
She sighed. “Not really.”
I gritted my teeth. “I can tell there’s something. You haven’t said a word since we left home. And you’ve been giving me the silent treatment all week. Are you still mad about the plate?”
“The what?” My mother seemed genuinely confused for a moment. “Oh—no. It’s not that.”
“What is it?”
She stared out the passenger side window a moment. “I miss your dad. He should be here for this.”
Immediately, I felt horrible. Of course she was missing my dad. We all were. Griffin and I had talked about it at Thanksgiving, how sad we were that he’d miss all these big moments in our lives—weddings and babies being born and every milestone afterward—as well as just being around for the little moments, like Sunday dinners and telling dad jokes and the occasional beer after work.
I shook my head, ashamed I’d assumed her silence this week had been about me. “You’re right. He should be, and I miss him too.”
We were both quiet then, reliving our memories of a man who’d worked so hard all his life, loved his family so fiercely, and had deserved the easy retirement surrounded by grandchildren he never got. A heart attack had stolen everything from him—and him from us—six years ago.
“He’d like Blair, don’t you think?” I asked, attempting to lighten the mood.
“Oh, definitely.” My mother nodded. “But who wouldn’t?”
“It’s so incredible, the way they found each other, isn’t it? I mean, what are the chances that your soul mate is the mechanic who fixes your car after you get stranded in his town?”
“Probably about the same as your soul mate being the boy next door who’s been there all along,” she said breezily.
“Mom, don’t start. I told you. We’re—”
“Just friends. I know. Because he doesn’t date.”
“Exactly.”
“Although, I did hear the strangest rumor about Cole at the dry cleaners the other day.”
“You did?”
“Yes. Someone said they’d heard he’d recently come out as gay and was in a relationship with Enzo Moretti.”
I burst out laughing. “What? That’s ridiculous!”
She laughed too. “Apparently they were seen looking for a house together.”
“That’s because Enzo is helping Cole find a house for him and Mariah to move into.”
“Oh. Well, that makes more sense.” She paused. “But if he was gay, that would explain why he isn’t interested in you.”
“Mom. He’s not gay.”
She sighed. “Fine.” A minute later, she chuckled. “But they would make a handsome couple, don’t you think?”
“Definitely.” I laughed again too, then turned my windshield wipers on. “Looks like the snow is starting.”
“Oh, dear,” my mother fretted. “I wish they’d chosen a venue closer to home.”
“Well, Blair had her heart set on Cloverleigh Farms. And maybe they’re overestimating how much we’ll get. That happens all the time.”
My mother crossed herself. “I hope you’re right.”
But the snow fell steadily for the rest of the drive, thicker and heavier the farther north we got. I white-knuckled the steering wheel of my Honda, ramrod in my seat, glad I’d let Griffin talk me into new tires this year.
We should have arrived at Cloverleigh Farms around seven, but thanks to the weather, it was after nine. We checked into our rooms at the inn—my mother’s was down at the far end of the second floor, and mine was closer to the rest of the wedding party’s—and planned on meeting down at the restaurant for a quick bite, but I was still hanging things up in the closet when she called and said she was too tired and had decided to just order room service instead.