Page 28 of Mark

“I did until just now,” I grumble.

“We just want to make sure everyone is happy,” Dad explains.

“No, you mean you want to keep Esther happy,” Nanna interrupts.

“Mum, don’t escalate this by getting involved,” Mum warns. She’s always called Nanna mum. Has for as long as I can remember. As a child, it was confusing because Dad neverreturned the sentiment to Mum’s parents. He called them by their names. “We want them both to be happy.”

“If you say so,” Nanna mutters.

“I’m here. I’m happy. So everyone else should be happy,” I cry. “I didn’t leave my cat to spend twelve days being nagged at.”

“Cheers to that,” Nanna hoots.

“Mother, you really should slow down,” Dad pleads.

“I will when I’m—”

“Six feet under, we know,” Dad mutters, shaking his head. “Just be on your best behaviour.”

“Actually, whilst you are here, is there a reason I’m so far away from you all?” I ask. I shouldn’t bring attention to the fact it’s bothering me, but I’m a glutton for punishment.

Dad shifts awkwardly and glances at Mum to answer. She clears her throat. “Well, um, we had to switch your cabin. Esther thought it would be better for Mike to have it since Danny will be bunking with him the night before the wedding.”

I laugh. “Of course she did.”

“But it’s okay. You will be getting ready with us on the big day.”

“I can get dressed in my own room.”

“But we have the bridesmaid dresses,” Mum replies.

“What?” I ask, my jaw dropping. “I haven’t tried on a bridesmaid dress.”

“Esther wanted it to be a surprise.”

“And she didn’t think to check if it fit? She didn’t even ask me to be a bridesmaid.”

“Of course you are. Why would she need to ask?” Mum scolds.

“Most brides do,” I point out.

“Well, you are. We have hired the makeup artist on board for the morning too, but I think we should have maybe got a hair stylist for you.”

“I can do my own hair,” I growl.

“We have two days before we need to decide anything,” Dad rushes out. “Oh look, Uncle Bob is waving us over. See you at dinner, Freya.”

When they leave, I turn in my seat and down the next drink before holding the empty glass up for another.

“You do know that dress is going to be ugly as fuck,” Nanna declares.

“Oh, I know,” I admit, sighing with relief when the next drink is placed in front of me.

“Burn it,” Nanna demands. “We can sneak in and get it tonight.”

“Why don’t we just get through dinner?”

“I thought you were the fun one,” she mutters.