“I think we crushed it, baby!” I squealed once Neil and I were in our car. I grabbed my mirror from my purse and touched up my lipstick.
He put his hand on my knee and rolled the fabric of my Michael Kors wrap dress between his thumb and forefinger. “Oh, undoubtedly. No one stormed off screaming, no one showed up drunk. If the wedding goes half as well tomorrow, we’ll be in the clear.”
“You sound like we’re planning a bank heist.” I slumped against him and sighed contentedly. “Do I still look okay for the dinner? Not too deflated?”
“You look as beautiful as you did in that airport the day I met you.” He buried his nose in my hair. “And you smell much better.”
“Hey. I’d just been on a cross-country flight.” I sat up and gave him a little push. “Besides, never tell a woman she looks as beautiful as when she was in an airport.”
Our rehearsal dinner was held at One If By Land, Two If By Sea, one of my favorite restaurants in the city. We had the main dining room reserved to fit all of our out-of-town family and friends who’d flown in. Everyone was already assembled when we got there, and their cheers when we walked in sent a lot of mortified blood rushing straight to my head.
“It’s good practice for tomorrow, darling,” Neil teased, lifting our joined hands to kiss my knuckles.
The restaurant was beautiful, with glittering silver chandeliers and soft candlelight against the otherwise dark wood and brick of the room. The tall oil paintings of historical people on the walls made me think of the Haunted Mansion ride at Disney World, but obviously with no alligators waiting at the bottom to gobble up Paul Revere.
We did a few quick hellos on our way to our seats, but we were both starving—I’d heard Neil’s stomach rumbling hollowly in the car, and it was a miracle I’d heard it over mine—so we got to the table like we were running to put out a fire.
The moment Neil saw Emma and Michael sans baby, his joyous expression crumbled. “Where’s Olivia?”
“She’s with the au pair,” Emma said, relief dripping from every word. “And I have pumped enough milk that I can finally have a drink.” Her eyes went wide as she realized what she’d said, and she quickly amended, “Sorry, Daddy.”
He got a strange expression, but in that split second it appeared, he decided to roll with it. “No, enjoy yourself. You’re not going to trouble me.”
I wondered what was going on in his head. I knew Emma had brought up his alcoholism in their phone call. Maybe this was the first time she’d talked about it since?
Neil sat beside Emma at the round table, and I sat between him and Mom. Rudy was seated with us, too; I lost Holli and Deja to a neighboring table, due to seating space.
Mom reached over and patted my hand. “The wedding is going to be beautiful, honey.”
“Thanks.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. She’d been so negative about my relationship with Neil for so long, and the recent resurgence of her disdain had set me back in the being-comfortable-around-Mom department. I didn’t know how to respond.
The dinner was delicious. Neil ordered oysters as a starter, and I was so famished I gulped down most of them.
“Hey, hey!” He laughed, smacking my hand as I reached for the last one. I scrambled for it, and he fought back, until we were both laughing.
“Children,” Rudy drawled in mock scolding.
“What?” Neil took a drink of water and dabbed his mouth with his napkin. He was still chuckling when he spoke again. “I ordered them, they’re mine. She doesn’t get half of them until the paperwork is signed tomorrow.”
“Daddy, you’re awful,” Emma said with an amused twist to her mouth.
“That’s why I’m marrying him.” I reached over to pinch Neil’s cheek, and he ducked out of the way to evade my hand. I tousled his hair instead. “Because he’s so fucking awful.”
“Language.” Mom held her hands out of the way as the waiter placed a plate of roasted striped sea bass in front of her.
I had to make an effort to not gorge myself on squab. The last thing I wanted was to walk down the aisle pregnant with a four-pound food baby. Neil must not have had the same worries about his tux, because he tucked into his beef wellington like they would give it to him for free if he finished it in an hour or less.
“I need to be fortified for the bachelor party,” he explained, defensive and joking all at once.
As the course began to wind down, Michael stood and tapped his knife against his wine glass. “Excuse me, everyone.” When the room politely hushed, he continued, “My wife, Emma, Neil’s daughter, wanted to make a toast to the happy couple tonight. Her severe allergy to public speaking, however, prevents this, so I’m going to read her toast for her.”
Michael cleared his throat. “Daddy and Sophie,” he began then ad-libbed, “Again, Emma wrote this.” A chuckle went around the room. “Two years ago, if I’d had a glimp
se of the future, of sitting here on the eve of your wedding, I wouldn’t have believed it. After our inauspicious meeting—”
Emma gave us a pointed look, one perfect eyebrow sliding up in a silent expression of, “Yeah. You just heard that.” Neil blushed and used a reach for his water glass to avert his gaze from Emma’s.
Michael went on, “—and the undeniably weird coincidence of our ages, I didn’t have terribly high hopes for you, Sophie. Even though you were all he could talk about, even though he was the happiest I’d ever seen him, I didn’t think it would work out.” Then, Michael paused. “After all, what were you getting out of the deal? I’m not sure any amount of money would be worth listening to my father’s tone deaf car singing.”