“Um, no,” Marjorie says. “Not following, babe. At the end, did you want to stay? Or did you want to go?”
“I wanted to go because I wanted to stay.”
“I think I follow,” my mom says slowly.
“Good, because I don’t,” Marjorie mutters, dunking a chip into ranch dip. “It was Gage Barrett, babe. How do you just walk away from that hotness?”
“I think that’s the problem,” I say, plucking at the blanket draped over my lap. “I stopped thinking of him as Gage Barrett the movie star and started thinking of him as Gage Barrett the guy I was falling for.”
“Was he falling for you too?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Maybe. But I killed it before we could really give it a chance, and now he’s…” I wave my hand at the TV. “Getting married.”
“I didn’t know,” Marjorie says, reaching out and squeezing my hand. “I thought you were just preoccupied by the job shift. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
“Me too,” my mom says. “And I understand why you didn’t reach out to me. I’m not exactly the poster child for lasting love. No wonder you’re wary.”
I give her a surprised look. I don’t want to say that my mom is shallow, because she’s not. Not in the ditzy, superficial kind of way—it’s more that she’s just unaware. When I was growing up, she’d frantically apologize for forgetting to pick up groceries like she promised. But then the very next day she’d forget all over again. Or she’d break up with boyfriend number 829 just as I was starting to like him, and promise she’d never bring a guy into our lives until she was “sure.” That resolve would last about three days. And so on.
When I was a kid, it sucked. When I was a teen, it was more than a little exasperating. Now that I’m an adult, though, I’ve more or less accepted it as a part of who she is.
But here’s the thing about learning from other people’s mistakes: you miss out on the chance to make some mistakes on your own. And sometimes you get so busy dodging the potential mistakes that you miss the potential magic.
You miss the one.
I look up in time to see my mom and Marjorie exchanging a look.
“What was that?” I ask, gesturing between them.
Marjorie tops off my wineglass even though I’ve only taken a sip or two. “I don’t think watching the last part of the finale’s a good idea after all. How about Gilmore Girls? Some good old-fashioned Stars Hollow distraction?”
For a split second, I’m tempted. I’m relieved that I don’t have to watch Gage fall in love with someone else. But the relief is short-lived, replaced with the knowledge that even if I avoid the pain tonight, it’ll still catch up with me tomorrow. And the next day. And next week, and next month, and all the days until I face it.
And then let it go.
Let him go.
“I think I need to watch,” I say, reaching for the remote. “I need to say goodbye, if that makes sense?”
My mom and best friend exchange a dubious look, but after finding the channel, I tuck the remote into the pocket of my hoodie and give them a stubborn look. “We are watching. Although we may need more wine. For survival.”
It’s a commercial break, and I stuff handfuls of popcorn in my mouth and listen to my mom and friend discuss whether Paisley or Brooklyn will be the winner.
Both of them put their money on Brooklyn—apparently he and Paisley get along great, but there’s been no romantic chemistry. Which is a relief, what with Paisley being my girl and all.
But the silent implication that he does have romantic chemistry with the oh-so-perfect Brooklyn…
I shove the popcorn bowl at Marjorie. “Take this away. I think I’m going to barf.”
“Too much butter?”
Too much heartache.
Then the show’s back, and my stomach churns for real. The camera zooms in on Adam, dressed in a suit and teal tie, the scene behind him unmistakably bridal. White chairs are lined up to face an elaborately decorated archway. There are no wedding guests yet, but the milling tuxedoed servers in the background and the harpist sitting down at her instrument give a realness to the scene that makes my heart stutter.
“Well, we’re just minutes away from the wedding you’ve all been waiting for. As we heard from Gage himself, there will be a wedding this afternoon. The only thing left to be revealed is, who will be the bride? And will the Runaway Groom finally say his vows?”
There’s a long, meaningful pause as the camera zooms in on Adam’s serious face.