Page 45 of Take Me
“Oh, shit.”Max’s pristine white dress spatters with sludgy brown water.Her jaw hinges open, somewhere between laughing and crying.
“Oh, honey.”Sam tries to help her, but the toe of her boot hits a slick spot of mud.Down she goes, knocking the sapling sideways as she falls.Her dress flies up, flipping over her head as she knocks her new bride back into the mud.“Oof.”
There’s a gasp from the crowd, then a roar of stunned silence.Nobody’s sure what to do.Peter’s trying to help, but two seconds later, he’s planted ass-first in a puddle.
My sister gasps somewhere in the crowd.I stand rooted in place, not sure what to do.Should we rush out to help them, or spare everyone’s pride by pretending we haven’t just seen Sam’s pink underthings?
Erika grips my arm.“Do something,” she hisses.
I look into those sea-pebble eyes.“Me?”
It’s not like I’m close with the brides.We’re friendly, sure, but I’m not a best friend or a family member like Peter.He’s gamely struggling to get to his feet, clawing fistfuls of mud as he tries to reclaim the umbrella.Rain pummels the ground as Peter tries grabbing his sister’s slick hand.
Their palms slip apart, and Sam flops back in the mud like a fish.Maxine finally makes it to her feet, but she’s covered in muck with her sopping red hair streaming down her arms.Somehow all three of them make it back on their feet, but then they just stand there, stunned and bedraggled.
Fuck it.
Maybe it isn’t my place, but I know what to do.I set down my glass and stride forward, snatching the mic from its stand.“Ladies and gentlemen,” I say in my best MC voice.“I’d like to now invite everyone to join the brides for their first dance.”
I catch Erika’s eye, and she sprints to the DJ’s table.She whispers something, and he nods, hitting buttons on his console as Peter, Sam, and Maxine stand staring in mud-soaked silence.
Seconds later, there’s a burst of synth music, followed by the ring of female vocals.Raising my hands in the air, I dance out the barn door and into the storm.I’m drenched in an instant, but thrusting my hips to the thump of Lady Gaga and Ariana Grande singing, “Rain On Me.”
Erika laughs as she joins me, waving her arms and singing along.We bop to the music as we spin through the downpour.The brides watch for only a second.Then they’re shrieking and whirling beside us with mud puddles sucking their boots.They’re howling with laughter, clutching each other as they twirl.
Jake and Cassidy move next, ducking out the barn door to join us in the downpour.They’re followed by Zoe and Cal, then Kaleb and Brooke and a few dozen others I don’t even know.We’re stomping through slop, whooping and laughing and belting out lyrics as the rain pours around us.
My sister bounds over and grabs Peter’s hand, pulling him into a waltz.He twirls her around, dipping her back so the tip of her hair skims a puddle.Her face fills with joy as he swoops her back up and kisses her rain-spattered face.
“Guess those pre-wedding waltz classes came in handy,” she says as they sashay past me.“How the hell did you do that?”
Still dancing like a goddamn maniac, I grin at Erika.“Guess we know how to turn lemons into lemonade.”
The truth is, this question came up at O’Brien’s Family Feud night.Erika and I formed a team with some buddies, and although we didn’t win, we killed it on the question about the best songs for dancing in the rain.
And itisperfect.Abso-fucking-lutely perfect.
Bursting with joy and rosé and a lot of adrenaline, I spin Erika around in my arms.The mud slicks our shins, but we don’t even notice.
She spits out a hunk of wet hair and smiles into my eyes.
“We make a good team.”
Grinning, I dip her.“Damn right we do.”
By the timewe get back to our cabin, we’re a little more sober.Notentirelysober—we did kill another glass each while dancing our hearts out to the Eurythmics’ “Here Comes the Rain,” followed by “Happy When It Rains” by The Jesus and Mary Chain—but we’re more tipsy than wasted.
And muddy.Very,verymuddy.
“That poor shuttle driver.”Erika unlocks the door to our cabin.We stand on the threshold, dripping with water and mud.“He’s never gonna get the bus clean.”
“Guess that’s one advantage of using an old school bus instead of a limo.”Gripping the hem of my shirt, I wring out the muddy rainwater.“They can just hose it out.”
“Now what?”Erika looks at me.“I don’t want to track filth through our cute little cabin.”
“Maybe the front desk has towels.”
We glance in that direction, but the building’s pitch dark.
