Page 61 of You Are Cordially Invited

At 10.20, Sandy and Ed popped in for a ten-minute visit. I turned down Sandy’s offer to stay.

He frowned but accepted the brush off without comment. “What’s happening with the wedding?” he asked instead. “Will you guys need to postpone?”

Jesus fuck.“Why the hell is everybody asking me that?” I snapped and instantly regretted it. “Shit, I’m sorry. I just... I just don’t know, okay?”

He rested a hand on my arm, his eyes soft and warm, and I almost burst into tears, again. “Of course it’s okay,” he said. “It’s a big decision and it’s fucking complicated, I get that.”

I shrugged. “And the rest.”

“Yeah, well, maybe Reuben will be more awake later and you guys can work it out. You’ve got another day to let them know, right?”

Like that made a difference. It was a fuckton of stress either way. “We’ll still lose a ton of money, but yeah.”

He sighed. “Well, you know we’re here if you need us. We’ll help any way we can.”

I kept from rolling my eyes by a whisker. “Thanks.”

He frowned, then gave me a hug and a kiss on my forehead. “I love your stubborn arse, you do know that, right?”

I snorted. “Yeah, I think maybe I do.”

At 10.40, Georgie and Craig arrived. I talked with Georgie for five minutes while Craig sat there staring at his brother and holding his hand. At least neither of them asked about the damn wedding and I could’ve kissed them for that alone. I left them to it and hid out in the sluice room for a bit. I was so tired of people.

At 11.15, the cleaner popped her head inside and I told her not to worry as I’d cleaned the countertops and was just finishing the sluice. She gave me a strange look, scoped out the sparkling stainless steel with an approving eye, and left.

At 11.25 I took my position back in the La-Z-Boy and tried not to scream with frustration. Reuben dozed on and off and I felt his stare at times, but he didn’t talk.

I felt... relieved. And guilty.

At 11.35 Will appeared, did some sensation and movement tests, and had a quick read of Reuben’s notes. “We wait,” he said and left again.

I wanted to kill him.

At noon, I wandered down to the ward lounge to watch the short interview with Gary Knowles, the All Blacks’ coach. He said Reuben was still having tests, that nothing had been confirmed, and that reports of paralysis were pure speculation. He ignored every question about the wedding, bless his heart.

He added that if the media wanted accurate updates, they’d do better not to take the word of a family member who was currently under a restraining order—something that was public knowledge since Brian Taylor had complained to the media himself on numerous occasions about being kept away from Cory. But the reminder put the cat among the pigeons and brought a smile to my face. It hadn’t completely calmed the media frenzy, but it had taken the sting out of Brian Taylor’s words.

Fuck him.

At 12.15, I fed Reuben a sandwich and a bowl of gluggy custard and curled up on the bed next to him. He went to sleep with me threading my fingers in and out of the hair on his chest. I sang softly as I worked, trying to stop the tremble in my body and the numbing dread in my head.

At 12.45, Reuben’s day nurse tried to make me eat some soup and toast. I sent her packing. She didn’t deserve it.

Ten minutes later Alison appeared from ER with the exact same lunch in her hands as Reuben’s nurse. She ignored my bitching, slapped my hand, and watched until I’d eaten the whole lot. She kissed my cheek and left.

I smelled a conspiracy, but it was the first genuine smile I’d worn all day.

Not that it changed the facts.

Twenty-four hours and Reuben still had no movement.

Nothing had changed.

The wedding was in five days.

I couldn’t just sit there.

I couldn’t pretend things could simply go on as I’d...we’dplanned.

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