Quadruplets Make Six

Three

Libby

I confirmed things with the guy from the application twice before I realized how badly this was going to go. He hadn’t logged back on since Thursday evening, which meant he wasn’t going to see any of my questions. I didn’t know anything about him. His name was Tony and that’s all I knew. What he looked like. His profile picture was a picture of a beautiful sunset, but the other pictures on his profile were of his home. At least, I thought it was. There were beautiful photographs of sunlit rooms and real wood furniture that sparkled in the noontime sun. There was a picture of a swimming pool that overlooked a beautiful estate and a hot tub bubbling off to the side. There was a picture of a fully-loaded bathroom with a steam sauna and everything. A walk-in stone shower that could easily fit five people lying down and a picture of a four-poster bed with sheer fabric hanging down on all sides.

It was like a fairytale, scrolling through those pictures. But it didn’t give me any indication of what he looked like.

It wasn’t that any of that mattered. I just didn’t know who I was looking for. I was hoping he’d log on before the wedding and see my questions so I was better prepared, but the response never came. I was getting worried. Was he having second thoughts? Was he actually going to show? I was a nervous wreck getting ready for my cousin’s wedding, and I was even more nervous when I arrived.

“Libby!”

My mother came and gave me a massive hug before my father did the same.

“You look wonderful in that dress, princess,” he said.

“Thanks, Daddy,” I said.

“So, where’s this wonderful date of yours?” my mother asked.

“He’ll be here soon,” I said.

“He didn’t bring you?” my father asked.

“He had to work today. Got called

in last minute,” I said.

“So… what’s his name? Is he handsome? What does he do for work?” she asked.

“Why don’t you ask him all those questions when he gets here?” I asked.

I smoothed my hands down my pale pink dress as I stood at the entrance of the Stan Mansion. This place was massive and breathtakingly beautiful. I had no idea how much something like this would cost for a wedding and a reception. Logan was well off, but this much? I had no idea.

The woman Logan was marrying was a control freak. Perfect makeup, perfect hair, and perfectly matching outfits. She was constantly criticizing what my cousin was wearing and was out here still bossing people around. It was fifteen minutes until she was supposed to walk down the aisle, and she was making everyone close their eyes so she could traipse around in her wedding dress and rearrange flowers at the last minute.

It was insane, and the closer the clock crept to five the more my stomach began to sink.

“Should we go save you and your date some seats?” my mother asked.

“Yeah, that would be nice,” I said.

“You said he was coming with you to the wedding, right?” my father asked.

“He did,” I said.

“Are you sure he isn’t already here and he just came in the wrong entrance? Aunt Myrtle and her boyfriend did that,” she said.

“Aunt Myrtle has a boyfriend?” I asked.

“Oh yes. They’ve been dating for a couple of months now,” she said.

“Bless that man,” my father said breathlessly.

“Michael!”

“I gotta agree with Dad on this one,” I said. “Aunt Myrtle’s a piece of work some days.”

“Some days? She’s a piece of work every second of her life,” my father said.