Page 6 of He Has It All (Boston Brawlers Hockey)
“You have the bridesmaids’ gowns, right?”
She laughs at the look of panic I know is on my face and I scowl as she gets in behind the wheel of her new Mustang GT, courtesy of her fiancé and about the best wedding present I’ve ever heard of. Levi’s doing well as a banker. She pats the dashboard as if the car is a pet.
“You ready for this road trip?”
“I feel like a kid going to Disney,” I say and throw on my sunglasses, blue-framed Tiffany with small diamond studs, my treat to myself when I landed my job. Extravagant and stupid, but then, that fits the job.
Maggie starts up her baby and we take off, heading for the Cape to catch the ferry to Nantucket. My mind goes to Ryan O’Rourke and I remember the last time I saw him, just in passing at Christmas. But we didn’t talk. We haven’t talked since . . .
“Don’t worry.” She reaches over and pats me on the leg like she’s reading my mind, because she is—we’re like that.
I give her a look. “What do you mean?”
“I know you’re nervous about Ryan.”
My heart thunders and my stomach drops and for a second I wonder how she knows. I’ve never told her—or anyone—about that night four years ago. Then I realize she’s talking about the gossip show.
“Sure. You’re right. I just hope his date—whoever it is—doesn’t hate on me. Do you know his date? What sort of person she is?”
Maggie shrugs.
“You don’t know who he’s bringing?”
Maggie rolls her eyes. “Hedoesn’t know who he’s bringing. I told him if he has no one special then he should come alone. He says he’s never had anyone special and that almost made my mom cry. Gramps told Mom to quit it since he’s still a kid sewing his wild oats—which I get is an old saying about how guys go wild being man-whores to get the excessive hormones out of their systems. But seriously, it’s a stupid old saying and it makes no sense. Really? Oats? Sewing?”
“It’s not that kind of sewing—I think it’s sowing—never mind.” She gives me anotherreally?look then presses hard on the brakes and turns the wheel sharply.
“How many coffees have you had?” But my question is too little too late as she pulls into the Dunkin’ drive-through and starts ordering some crazy mocha latte with a shot of espresso. She turns to me for my drink order.
“Ice coffee, cream no sugar. Large.” I need something to keep up with her but, truthfully, the last thing I need is a high dose of caffeine to raise my anxiety level any higher than it is. But she, in spite of her mouth being in overdrive, seems nothing but happy and chill.
“Aren’t you nervous?” I ask. “You’re the one getting married.” I feel like an idiot since I’m supposed to be the calm, cool, collected maid of honor, keeping my bride all chill for the big event, supporting her, treating her like a queen. So far it’s been just about the opposite.
She hands me the ice coffee with a giant grin.
“How can I be nervous, Chels? I’m marrying the love of my life and I’ve never been happier.”
“What about the in-laws?”
She shrugs, takes a giant sip through her straw, then guns the car out of the driveway and seamlessly into traffic on the busy street—one-handed—as if she’s been driving taxis for a living all her life. This is how she always drives, but still, I see no nerves other than the fast talking, which is more caffeine induced than nerves.
“Levi is handling his parents and I have the utmost confidence in his ability to negotiate us an excellent relationship. Besides,” she flashes another grin, “how bad can they be to have brought up a son as awesome as Levi?”
“Can’t argue with that logic.” With a big sigh I join her in grinning, truly happy for her.
Somehow I manage to keep my mind off the impending doom of dealing with her big bad big brother Ryan, or of having to deal with my embarrassment—either from being a cheap gossip or from being that naïve girl who let one wild night get to her, take your pick.
Either way, I shove it aside while we sing along with Imagine Dragons, the Beatles, and Queen all the way down to Hyannis where we catch a high-speed ferry to Nantucket. Maggie is an ace planner and her wedding is two weeks shy of the busy season so we have no problem getting tickets to bring her car over and back. I’ll drive it back for her while she takes off for her honeymoon with Levi to parts unknown.
For tonight, though, I’ve planned a surprise. All the bridesmaids along with some other girlfriends we share will all be on island and celebrating. We’ll be a roving bachelorette party, T-shirts and all, barhopping our way around town and ending up at Cru for dinner and the live music in their bar.
The ride over on the boat, breathing the ocean air, and the hum of the engines as the sun sets calm me and I can’t wait to see the look on Maggie’s face when all our girlfriends greet us at the dock.
