Page 25 of Best Served Cold

I’d imagined leading messy, fun, immersive projects that parents would never want unleashed on their living rooms. I’d had a name for the business—The Crafty Monster—and I’d even purchased supplies and chosen a location. But the permits hadn’t come through on time, and then my friend Lynn, who’d been all in to run the business with me, had gotten pregnant with twins.

She’d bowed out.

Then I’d moved to Asheville to help Aunt Penny, and that was that. My dream became hazy, the sort of dream you have at night but can barely remember in the morning.

I feel like I’m at a crossroads without a working compass. Which is why I’m glad Dottie has essentially appointed herself our life coach.

She’s the one who came up with the idea of having a healing, symbolic wedding to myself.

I told her it was absolutely unnecessary, but when she takes a shine to an idea, it’s hard to dissuade her. Especially since she convinced my friends to agree with her. Briar thought it was an “inspired” idea, but Briar also has a Siamese cat and sings in the shower. She makes jewelry from rocks she finds and tumbles.Of courseshe thought it was a good idea. I’d thought for sure Hannah would back me up, but no, she thought it was hilarious and had insisted she was going to bring me out for drinks afterward in my wedding dress.

In desperation, I appealed to Otis for help, but he’d fallen desperately in love with Briar the moment he met her, so of course he sided with everyone else.

Dottie insisted they wanted to celebrate me, the way we were supposed to on my wedding day, and it would have felt ungrateful to deny her. And Ilovearts and crafts. It had hurt to surrender all of the preparations for my wedding to Patricia. So I’d enjoyed making the lanterns and rearranging the bouquets. It had felt like a harmless distraction, a creative outlet I’d been longing for, and I also really wanted to wear the dress, dammit.

Now, though, with Rob Price grinning at me in that knowing way, Ireallywish I’d put a stop to this ridiculousness. Especially since Briar’s not even here. Her dad had sensed she had plans and called her in to do inventory as punishment.

Rob sticks his hands in his back pockets, revealing another inch or two of his biceps.

“Do you want some champagne?” Hannah asks, startling me. I try to pretend I wasn’t just staring at Rob’s muscles. “We’re going to eat cupcakes afterward. You in?”

He’s still standing by the door. There’s an inscrutable smile on his face, and I can’t figure out whether he’s going to stay or duck out into the obscurity of night. Please let him duck out.

His grin widens. “Wouldn’t miss it, but I’m not really dressed for a wedding.”

“There’s no official dress code,” Hannah says. “This is an informal ritual…” She pauses dramatically and gives us a wicked grin. “Until the blood sacrifice, of course.” Then she gets up and disappears into the kitchen, possibly to get him champagne, possibly to grab a butcher knife. She likes to keep the mystery alive.

Rob rubs the back of his neck again, giving me another tease of his bicep, and walks a couple of steps inside.

“There now,” Dottie says with a beatific smile as she waves him forward. “That’s the right direction. Come right in, dear. We won’t bite.”

“Speak for yourself,” Hannah calls from the kitchen.

“We could go play Xbox,” Otis offers, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. “I have a pretty sick setup in my bedroom.”

“Oh, quit trying to get Rob up to your room,” Hannah says, returning with her champagne flute refilled and one for Rob. He immediately sets it down on the coffee table.

“I wasn’t,” Otis says, blushing. He gestures to the satin floor covering, the flowers, and the paper art. “It just seems like…you know. There’s a lot of feminine energy in this room.”

“There’s nothing to worry about, dear,” Dottie says with sweet sincerity. “Being exposed to feminine energy won’t shrink your testes. If it did, my poor Bear wouldn’t be nearly so potent in the bedroom.”

Otis looks like he’d like to disappear into the couch, but he settles for draining his champagne flute, then looks hopefully at Hannah, who crosses her arms and stares him down, despite being so short he’s practically taller than her sitting.

He sighs and gets up. “Would anyone like anything from the kitchen?”

Shock nearly freezes me solid. Otis never volunteers to do chores.

“Yes, dear,” Dottie says, beaming at him. “I’d love to wet my whistle with a little of that schnapps from the other day.”

I can feel Rob watching me, and another thrum of self-consciousness works through me. No, no way. I can’t possibly go through with this silly ceremony if he’s here. He’ll think it’s another instance of me being a Pollyanna. My fiancé was cheating, but that’s okay, I’ll befriend his girlfriends and marry myself.

Oh. My. God. Is heright?

“Hey, actually, I need a second alone with Rob,” I say.

“Of course, dear,” Dottie replies. “You two take all the time you need. I understand what it’s like to have cold feet before a wedding.”

Hannah guffaws.

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