Page 30 of The Snuggle Is Real

I almost choke on my drink.

“Even if that were true, why the fuck would we tell y’all that at MacKay’s rehearsal dinner?” Malcolm asks, shaking his head. “Idiot.”

Dylan’s jaw drops. “Why are you so mad? It was just a joke.”

He does seem irrationally annoyed.

“Boys, hush.” Mrs. Lennox, at the end of the table, has tears rolling down her cheeks. Not laughing tears. The other kind.

I’m not startled by the sight of them. Weddings bring on the tears.

"Fifteen years," she says, to no one in particular, dabbing at her eyes with a cloth napkin. "I always said it. I always said that Emily here is the one."

Guilt hits me square in the chest, sharp enough to steal my breath.

Malcolm's hand finds my knee under the table and squeezes. Just once. Like he's saying I know.

I don't know if he means I know this is hard.

Or I know you're lying and I'm sorry.

Or something else entirely, something I'm not letting myself put words to.

"Oh, Mom," MacKay says. "Don't cry on the pork tenderloin."

"I'll cry wherever I please. I raised four boys. I've earned it." She shakes back her hair. “This is the happiest night of my life. All four of my sons have found the perfect partners. MacKay and Faith, congratulations, you two. I’ve been waiting for this moment to arrive since the minute we met Faith. I love you both and I wish you many years of happiness.”

She raises her glass and I gratefully raise mine too and everyone cheers and toasts and offers well wishes. I’m thrilled to have the spotlight off of me and Malcolm.

Just when I think I’m safe, Faith’s brother, Cash, giving a rambling toast and distracting everyone, without warning Great-Aunt Opal lifts one gnarled finger and points it directly at me across the table.

"You," she says.

I sit up straighter. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Pumpkin or apple?"

Malcolm sets down his fork very slowly.

I could lie. I could say apple and win over every Lennox in this room. It would be easy. I'm already lying about the biggest thing.

"Pumpkin," I say. "Forever and always."

Great-Aunt Opal studies me for a very long time.

"Good," she finally says. "Takes a spine to say that in this family." She points at Malcolm. "Marry her."

"Aunt Opal—" Malcolm starts.

"I'm ninety-three. I don't have time for you to dawdle."

And that's when, thank God, MacKay stands up to shake Cash’s hand and welcome all of us to his and Faith’s wedding.

Chapter Eight

Malcolm

I’m trying to concentrate on the toasts, but it’s damn hard.