Page 85 of Bountiful
“I should have brought you the portable crib,” I said, feeling guilty.Here, watch my screaming kid without any ofthegear!
“It was okay. We took a cat nap together in thehammock.”
“Really?”
“Sure. I like a nap as much as thenextguy.”
The mental image was almost more than I could take. Nicole curled up in a hammock with Dave? Was it awful that I was a little jealous of bothofthem?
At the sound of a bell being struck, I looked over Dave’s shoulder to see Dylan Shipley—Griff’s younger brother—walking through the crowd with a dinner bell which he tapped withafork.
“Can I offer you a plate of barbecue for your efforts today?” I asked, tucking my boob back into my bra. Nicole sat up on my lap, swaying like a little drunk. She had that blissed-out look she always got afternursing.
“Sure?” he said. “I hadn’t planned on staying, but I’m always happy to hang outwithyou.”
“And Audrey invited you,” I reminded him, brushing aside his compliment. As if it didn’t light me up inside to hear himsayit.
“Let me zip you up,”hesaid.
With my face warming, I turned to give him access to my back. The man must have zipped and unzipped a few hundred women in his life because he knew to hold the two sides of the fabric together to let the zipper runsmoothly.
I popped up off the bench. “Is everything where it ought to be?” I asked, looking down at myself as best I could with a toddler inmyarms.
Dave’s eyes heated. “Everything is exactly where itshouldbe.”
My pulse kicked up several notches. “Come on. Let’s find my mother, and thensomefood.”
We handedthe sleepy baby off to Grandma, who thanked Dave politely and then tookherhome.
In the catering tent, Dave and I fixed plates for ourselves and sat down at a table of familiar faces. This wasn’t the sort of wedding with assigned seats. Audrey had wanted to keep thingscasual.
With us sat Zachariah, Lark, and May Shipley and her girlfriend Daniella. It was a good crowd. My friends would all be sweet to Dave. It was a typical Shipley gathering in many ways—good food and teasing. We were hard on Zach about the notecards in hispocket.
“But I never give speeches!” he said. “This is myfirstone!”
Of courseitwas.
The only awkwardness at dinner came from Daniella. She was already tipsy, and she didn’t wear it very well. She dominated every conversation and gave out too many bold opinions. And generally made an ass ofherself.
“Professional hockey is a brutal sport,” she slurred. “It probably contributes to domestic violence. Society idolizes the masculine warrior. Long live thepatriarchy.”
“Uh-huh,” Dave said cheerfully. “Did you know there’s a pro hockey league for women now? They’rewarriors,too.”
But Daniellarantedon.
Poor May gave me a weary smile as the band tuned up outside. “My brother has just tapped a keg for a toast,” she said, pointing to a table where Griffin stood passing out glasses. “Has Dave tried thecider,yet?”
“I don’t think so,” I said, putting a hand on his arm. “You need to try this, since you helped paste labels onto a couple hundred bottles theotherday.”
He pushed his empty plate away and stood up. “I’m game. Shall I bring over sixglasses?”
“None for me,” May said, standing up, too. “But I’ll help you and grab a ginger ale formyself.”
“May doesn’t drink,” Daniella sneered. “We weren’t together back when she wasactuallyfun.”
There was a long, awkward silence while we all cringed for May. Her family had been patiently waiting for her relationship with Daniella to end. But it was going on seven or eightmonths,now.
“Well, I guess it’s showtime,” Zach said, rising to pull his notes from hispocket.
