Page 20 of A Love Most Fatal
“That’s right.” Rex nods. “Cool that you could come to our wedding with Nate-Man.”
“Yes. Nate-Man,” Vanessa holds my arm like we really are here on a date, and I feel like she’s touching me with a live wire. “Well, congratulations, you look very beautiful, Phoebe. And beautiful together.”
Phoebe beams, I mean she just glows under this small praise from Vanessa.
“We’ll leave you to the masses, but we’ll see you on that dance floor,” I say, and it has the intended effect of making Rex laugh and give one of his signature huge claps on the shoulder.
My aunt and uncle do look impressed as we walk away arm in arm.You’re welcome, Mom.
“You didn’t tell me you’re famous.”
“Hardly. Just a local thing. Shall we buffet?”
If she means to divert my attention, it works, because as with the rest of the wedding, no expense was spared on the food, and being so nervous has worked up an appetite.
After piling my plate with three kinds of salads (pasta, potato, green) and a literal steak, we find our way to an empty table. We take turns observing guests, guessing their jobs and hobbies until some of my other family members make their way to the table and we have to make small conversation about my job, where in the world I met such a catch as Vanessa, how my dad’s surgery went, onward and onward.
Exhausting work.
It’s a relief when it’s time for cake cutting, speeches, and then of course the actual eating of said cake which is a peach, rhubarb, fluffy masterpiece. Sitting next to Vanessa through it all reminds me of what it felt like to date as a teenager. My palms sweat and I keep wiping them on my slacks wondering what it would be like to hold her hand and praying that they stop sweating in the case of such a thing.
Hand holding would be far too forward, I decide, but decide that an arm around the back of her chair when the music starts playing is reasonable. I need to lean closer for her to hear me, after all. It’s casual. Very cool.
“So, what sort of stuff do you like to do? When you’re not at basketball games or strangers’ weddings.”
Vanessa’s face turns towards mine and I swear she looks down at my lips which makes my heart stutter in a way that almost concerns me.
“I like to run,” she says. “My sister and I do a lot of fitness classes together.”
“Artie’s mom?”
“Her, but my other sister, too. Willa is the oldest, I’m in the middle, and then there’s my little sister Mary who I live with. We all get together and work out every week.” She takes another bite of cake.
“Any brothers?”
“None,” she says. “You? Siblings?”
“Only child.”
“Sounds boring,” she says, then looks sorry she did. “I didn’t mean?—”
“No, it was in a way. Cousins were good growing up, at least, and my parents are awesome. They live in Connecticut.”
“Do you see them often?”
“Every month or so, and I spend most of the summer there, but they want me to move back. I think they want me back home just so they can set me up with unsuspecting local women.”
“They must miss you.”
“Maybe.”
I think about my parents, the cruises they go on, the way I introduced pickleball to them but they have far, far eclipsed me. My dad’s baked goods, my mom’s books all over the house, anything used as a bookmark. They want me to have kids so bad, I know. They were in their thirties when they had me and now that I’ve just enteredmythirties they are antsy to see me start a family.
“What about you?” I ask. “What’s your family like?”
“Well, you’ve met Willa. She’s always been sort of the princess of us. Married Sean when she was like barely nineteen.Then there’s me and Mary. She and I live with our mom, and us kids took over my dad’s business when he died.”
“I’m so sorry. When did he die?”