“Good. Did Marc tell you he’s moving in with me?”
Her eyes widen and she moves to look into the kitchen. “Marco!” she shouts with astonishment.
“Polo,” he casually responds.
“You didn’t tell me you’re moving!”
“I figured Noah told you. He helped me.”
“Noah!” she gasps. “Why am I always the last to know? I was the last to know about your hookup with Lizzy at the party, and I was the last to know about the I love you being exchanged,” she glares at me, which means she heard it from Sylvia, “and now, I’m the last to know about this!”
“Sylvia and Scott don’t know,” I say, hoping that makes her feel better.
“Actually,” Marc starts.
“What? When did you tell them?”
“Scott called me and asked what I was doing.” Marc shrugs. “He was checking in.” Scott has yet to call me, so I don’t know what it means that he’s calling Marc instead.
“See!” Meredith bursts. “Always the last to know.”
“Mere, you can be the first to know about the next big thing, so quit your whining, yeah? Marco promises. Don’t you?”
A look is exchanged between the men and then Marc nods. What are they talking about? What’s the next big thing? I don’t get to find out because Noah’s done cooking dinner. It’s kind of odd to see Marc around Noah and Meredith. It’s almost like he turns into a different person. Or, an exaggerated version of himself. He does joke a lot more around them than he does me. They probably thought I made him a different person, just like I kind of think they make him a different person.
But it’s almost as if that’s his barrier to keep things light and off the serious things in his life. For some reason, he never felt the need to do that with me. I smile to myself, feeling special. Maybe I’m the only one who gets to see the true Marc. That feels like a gift, and I definitely treasure it.
“You’re going with Marc to the fashion show this weekend, right?” Meredith asks me.
“Yes, she is. Take her shopping Friday,” Marc answers.
“I don’t remember being asked.”
“Meredith just asked you,” he points out with a grin.
I steadily hold his gaze with a blank face and wait.
He sighs ten seconds later. “Elizabeth, will you go with me?”
I smile. “Yes.”
“Will you be my plus one to their wedding, too? Might as well get that out of the way while we’re at it.”
“Her answer to that is yes, too,” Meredith answers for me. “Marc wants you there, but so does the bride, which basically means it’s mandatory.”
“Well, I’ll be there, then.”
Meredith goes on to say we need to hang out more. Marc makes some comment about how she can’t replace him with me, but she ignores him. I like Meredith, and I could use more friends, so I don’t mind hanging out with her more. After dinner, she ends up showing me the different options she’s thinking of for her invitations. We spend about an hour and a half talking wedding details before Marc stands.
“Meredith, I know you love us, but we have unpacking to do and my ears are bleeding. Just pick a damn design. No one will care.”
She frowns. “That’s what Noah said. Men,” she grumbles with a glance at me.
“Don’t listen to them. My advice is to not overthink it and pick something you really like.”
“Also something I said,” Noah chimes in from his spot on the couch.
Marc reaches for my hand and then pulls me out of the seat. “We’re leaving. Thanks for inviting us, Meredith. We’ll return the favor soon.” He goes to kiss her cheek, but stops and pats her shoulder instead, which makes things awkwa