Page 75 of A Storybook Wedding

CJ grins like the Cheshire cat and nods happily.

“Good for you. Your writing is excellent. I have no doubt you’ll get some interest,” Devereaux replies.

It feels like an honest-to-God compliment, but I trust Alice Devereaux about as far as I can throw her, so I just raise an eyebrow and leave it alone. No need to sully CJ’s excitement by shining a light on this woman’s personal beef with me. “I’m looking forward to our workshop later today, Cecily. We’ll be discussing the process of finding a literary agent, so do feel free to chime in with your thoughts on the research process.”

“Oh, I will. It’s been super interesting,” CJ replies.

“And I was very happy to see that you signed up for Instagram,” Devereaux continues. “Thank you for following my account.”

“Of course! I’m glad you saw that I did that.”

“I post important information regularly, so you’ll be able to avail yourself of it. And after you graduate, if you get published, I’ll follow your account as well.”

“Wait—you didn’t follow her back?” I say to Alice. I’m sorry. I can’t help myself. That’s just obnoxious.

“No, Nate, I didn’t. I make it a point not to follow students. Wouldn’t want to seem inappropriate, you know,” she responds.

Wow, bitch. Just…wow. I choose to let it go, even though the whole table goes silent at the obvious insult.

“Well, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m glad to have the early part of today off. I’m sure we could all use the extra rest,” Dillon chimes in in a sorry attempt to cut through the ever-mounting tension at our breakfast table.

But I won’t unleash my fury on this second-rate asshole—at least not in public. I’m above that. (Don’t get me wrong. At some point, I’ll be using pages from her book as toilet paper, just not at this precise moment.) Also, it’s CJ’s birthday, and I’m not about to ruin it for her by letting my mouth get the best of me. She squeezes my knee under the table though, which reassures me that I’m making the right decision by leaving Alice Devereaux alone. I can’t sit here though. “I’m going to head back to the room,” I whisper in CJ’s ear.

“I’ll come with you. I need to check my phone anyway. I’m sure my mom has called me by now.”

We politely excuse ourselves, and CJ grabs a banana for the road. Back at the room, CJ hops on her phone right away—she’s flooded with text messages to return wishing her a happy birthday, plus a slew of Happy New Year group texts from overnight that she’s been included on. And indeed, she’s missed a call from her mom. “Is it okay if I call her from here?”

“Of course. Is it okay if I stay here and do some work?”

She smiles. “Yes, Pen. It’s fine. You know, at some point, we won’t feel like we need to be so polite toward each other.”

“Oh, believe me, as soon as you’re off the phone, I’ll be more than happy to do impolite things to you again,” I tease.

“That sounds gross,” she giggles.

I shrug. “You asked for it.”

She raises her eyebrows as she hits the green Call button on her phone. “Shh,” she admonishes me. “I don’t want my mom to know you’re here.”

I nod and give her a wink, then pantomime zipping my lips shut and throwing away the key. When her mother answers the phone and launches into an off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday,” I stifle a laugh. They chat for almost twenty minutes, talking about all the exciting things going on in CJ’s life—the querying and the new Instagram profile (which CJ then proceeds to coach her mother to locate online), followed by a full update on all of her pregnant siblings. Her mom passes the phone to her dad, who talks to her about the importance of joining the library’s 403(b) program, especially now that she’s thirty. After a brief lecture, he informs her that Jamie and Bryce are home, and would she like to speak to her sister? Of course she would; she’s CJ, an endlessly bright ray of sunshine regardless of whose fetuses are in the womb of the person asking. So she makes small talk with Jamie, talks about social media some more (Jamie follows her right on the spot, which makes her eyes light up), and asks how her baby registry is coming along. When she hangs up, I look at her, shaking my head.

“I don’t know how you do that,” I say.

“Do what?”

“How you can be so nice, considering what Jamie and Bryce put you through.”

“It sucked,” she agrees. “My mother didn’t exactly teach us about ‘girl code’ though. Her version of success was single-minded and old-fashioned, and I realized from a pretty young age that if I didn’t fall in line with it, I’d become an outcast in my own family.”

“So you’re saying you don’t blame Jamie?”

“I did, for a while. I blamed Bryce too. But when I really looked inside myself, I knew that I didn’t want the life he would’ve given me. And if she did, and it made her happy, then I could survive the sting of it.”

“You’re a better person than I am. If I had a brother and he ended up with Avery, even if I have zero feelings left for her, I’d still be pissed.”

CJ sighs. “Well, it helps a lot that I’m super into this new guy I’ve been seeing.”

“Is that so?” I smile.

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