Page 66 of Fathers of the Bride
“That I should do it because it might be my last chance.”
“Ouch. How is Avery with all this?”
She smiled. “Wonderful. He bought the elephant from its trainer and is making arrangements to ship it back to Borneo.” She rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t even an African elephant.”
“Did you get to the party at all?
“No. We got a suite at the Shangri-La. We texted the few friends we’d invited to the party, and they came over. We actually had a nice time. Except, of course, that I was worried about you.”
“Where is Avery this morning?”
“At the bank.”
“Getting money to ship the elephant?”
“No. Daddy, he works at the bank, remember? There’s an emergency meeting of the board. That photo of Pudge and Lissa in traditional African garb—which, by the way, was from a different part of Africa entirely—anyway, that went viral, too.”
“And that’s bad for the bank?”
“Very. They’re on the board.”
“Oh, dear. Are you sure it’s a good idea to marry into this family?”
“I’m not marrying into the family. I’m marrying Avery.”
There was a certainty on her face that I remember from her childhood. Things had seemed so much less complicated then. I thought she’d be able to do anything when she grew up. Now, though, I was sure the challenges of being related to the Lincoln-Collinses would be much harder than she imagined. Harder than I imagined. But it was also possible she was right, and Avery would be worth it.
Then she said, “Speaking of things going viral. Did you, um, did you—Raj proposed to Papa. Did you see that before—?”
“Before I was whooshed off the pier? I did, yes.”
“That must have been awful for you.”
“The proposal or the whooshing?”
“Both I suppose.”
Given that I’d just spent the night with Andy, I couldn’t really say it was awful, it was more, “Confusing. Very confusing.”
“How could Papa do that to you?”
“Sweetheart, I don’t want you to be angry at Papa. The important thing is that we love you no matter whether things work out for us or not.”
She looked at me like I was the village idiot. “Daddy, he’s engaged to someone else. There isn’t any ‘no matter how things work out.’ That’s over.”
“Oh, yes, of course. You’re right. What was I thinking?”
The microwave dinged and I took the scones out. The coffee was almost ready. I took a couple of plates out of the cupboard and said, “Let’s go out onto the terrace.”
And just then the front door closed. She looked at me and asked, “Was someone here?”
“Of course not. That was just the wind.”
She gave me a doubtful look, so I added, “Santa Anas.”
28
Andrew Lane
