Page 53 of Brushed and Buried
She kisses Trevor’s cheek and heads back to the girls, leaving her words like a lit match.
Trevor watches her go, then turns to me. “You aren’t the only one trying to figure out your feelings. But if you keeppretending there is nothing to figure out, you will lose the chance to feel it.”
“I wouldn’t even know what to say to him,” I mutter.
“Then start by not lying to yourself,” he says.
I stay quiet. The waves blur in the distance, sun on water like static. Adrian’s name sits under my tongue like a wound I will not touch.
He’s gone, and everything feels louder without him. Sharper, off-balance, like the space he filled still echoes, and I cannot tune it out.
By Thursday morning, I’m barely holding it together. The hollow ache in my chest has settled into something permanent, and I keep catching myself looking toward the lobby like Adrian might walk back through those doors.
That’s when Trevor’s phone rings during breakfast.
“Oh, it’s Olivia, our wedding coordinator,” he says, answering on the second ring. “Olivia? What’s…wait, slow down.”
The conversation goes on for several minutes, Trevor’s face cycling through confusion, and then what looks like genuine panic. When he finally hangs up, he looks like someone just told him his dog died.
“What’s wrong?” George asks.
“It’s the florist,” Trevor says, dragging both hands through his hair. “Their main cooler went down overnight. Every flower for Sunday is ruined. Olivia’s scrambling to find replacements, but it’s peak wedding season. She tried to keep it from us, but today she had to reach out to other vendors. Some she already called are either fully booked or the quality isn’t even close. She’s still working on it, and will also reach out to local ones, but she thought we should know.”
“Can’t the hotel help?” George asks.
“They’re trying. She already spoke to them, but their usual vendors are tapped out. And the flowers Becca picked were specific varieties and colors that had to be ordered months in advance.” Trevor looks genuinely worried now. “She’s going to be devastated.”
I watch him spiral, feeling that I should do more than just sit here despite my own emotional mess. “What can we do?”
“It’s not just the flowers,” Trevor continues, his voice getting tighter. “The lighting company’s setup was designed around the specific arrangements. Without the right flowers and shit, the whole aesthetic would probably fall apart. It’s not the end of the world, but Becca’s been planning every detail for eight months.”
I get that Olivia called Trevor instead of Becca, since she would probably freak out more than Trevor currently is. The implication of this hits me. As his best man, I should help out in solving this problem.
“Look,” I say, reaching across the table to grip his shoulder. “We’ll figure something out, mate. I’ll call my manager and see what she can do.”
I pull out my phone to dial Megan’s number, knowing full well she handles sports contracts and endorsement deals, not wedding emergencies. However, I have to try anything that’ll probably work.
“You know what?” Trevor says, already reaching for his phone. “I’m calling Adrian.”
The name hits me like a physical blow, but I keep my face neutral. “Adrian?”
“He mentioned having connections in event coordination. Plus, he’s from around here originally, right? Santa Ynez Valley. He’d know people who do events.”
It’s logical, practical even, but anticipation races through my body at the thought of seeing him again.
“Trevor,” George says slowly, glancing at me. “You should probably just wait for Olivia to come up with alternatives. They’ll have contingency plans for situations like this.”
Lance nods. “True. Wedding coordinators deal with this stuff all the time.”
“Yeah, but Adrian probably knows people personally. Relationships matter when you’re asking someone to prioritize helping a friend over random wedding number six this weekend.” Trevor’s already dialing. “Plus, he understandsaesthetics. He’d know what would work as substitutes if we can’t get exact matches.”
I want to object and point out all the reasons this call is unnecessary. But I’m too late.
“Adrian? Hey, it’s Trevor. How have you been? Thank god you answered. I’ve been trying to reach you since you left Tuesday night, just to make sure you got home safe.” He pauses, listening to Adrian’s response. “That’s good, mate. Listen, I know this is crazy, but I need to ask you a huge favor.”
I can’t hear Adrian’s side of the conversation, but I watch Trevor’s face as he explains the florist disaster and the lighting problems, everything. His expression shifts from desperate to hopeful.
“You know someone who could help? That’s…mate, that would be incredible.” Trevor glances at me, then quickly looks away. “Actually, would you mind flying back down? I know it’s a lot to ask, but you’d understand the vision better than anyone, and if you’re coordinating multiple vendors…”
