Page 175 of The Reason I Married Him
“It might seem big,” Maggie says. “But in reality, it’s actually quite small and intimate. You won’t even be able to tell.”
“Trust me, if I’m up there saying I do and notice more than ten people staring up at me, I’ll be able to tell.” She turns to me, and with those pleading eyes, she says, “Let’s just elope.”
Oh boy.
Here’s the thing. Right now, I’d do anything to make Aubree happy. Reason number one: I got her into this mess, and I want to make it as smooth as I can for her. Reason number two: this guy, **thumbs toward himself** is currently crushing on his fiancée, and well, he wants to keep her happy. Reason number three: I don’t care for a large wedding either.
But the problem with all of that is, weneedto convince the people of the town that we’re a couple so when shit hits the fan with Wallace, and he comes charging into Almond Bay—because he will—he won’t be able to prove our relationship is fake.
And that’s what matters the most.
But I can’t say that in front of everyone, so I calmly place my hand on Aubree’s thigh and say, “Babe, I know this is overwhelming, but think of it this way. These people love you, and they want to help you. Plus, your brother has already told me that he’ll murder me if we elope, and as much as I would like to elope with you, I want to do the right thing by your family. You all have been through a lot. Let’s make this a day for celebration.”
Her eyes connect with mine, and for a moment, it’s almost as if there’s appreciation in them. Appreciation for my comment, appreciation for understanding her family dynamics.
On a sigh, she turns to everyone and says, “Fine, but we are not having one hundred and fifty people.”
Maggie claps her hands in excitement. “Brilliant. What is your cap?”
“Fifty,” she says.
Maggie winces but then nods. “Okay, that’s doable. I think we can manage that. Ethel will have to be cutthroat, but I think we can manage. Now.” Maggie lets out a long sigh. “What are you going to do about a dress?”
Aubree shifts uncomfortably and says, “Well, I just thought I could wear Cassidy’s, if that would be okay.” She glances over at Hattie.
“You want to wear Cassidy’s dress?” Hattie asks.
“I mean, if that’s okay. If not, I can find something else. I just thought it would be the easiest, cheapest option.”
“Money doesn’t matter,” I say quietly, just in case she needs to know that.
“Thank you,” Aubree whispers.
But then Hattie presses her hand to her chest and says, “I think . . . that would be so sweet.”
“Are you sure? You weren’t going to wear it when you eventually get married?”
“Does it matter?” Hattie asks. “We could all wear it. Kind of like sisterhood of the traveling pants but with a dress.”
That makes Aubree chuckle. “Well, if you’re cool with it, then I’d like to wear it.”
I’m shocked that she’d want to wear something so sentimental to a wedding that’s all for business, but then again, maybe it’s a strength thing. What we’re doing on Saturday, getting married for convenience, can’t be easy on Aubree, and maybe if she has her sister there in spirit, it will be easier for her to walk down the aisle.
That makes a lot of sense.
“I think it will be perfect,” Hattie says. “Are you going to wear the veil with it?”
Aubree shakes her head. “No, that’s more your thing.”
“If I can step in for a moment,” Maggie says, raising the wooden spoon. “If you’d like, I could fasten together a flower crown to go with the wildflower bouquet. Even something that resembles more of a headband.”
“Oh sure, that would be fine,” Aubree says.
“Wonderful. I have something in mind that’ll work perfectly. And just so I can report back to Ethel, who is my supplier at the moment, I need a verbal yes to what I have going on here.” With her wooden spoon, she points at certain aspects of the wedding—the tables, the lace, the wildflowers, the barn, and the food. And with every slap of her spoon to the poster board, we give her a verbal yes. That’s until we reach the cherry pie.
“No,” Aubree says.
“What?” I ask in surprise. “Babe, that’s our special pie.”
