Chapter Eighteen
If someone had told Char when she woke up this morning that she’d be having the best birthday of her life in a million-dollar condo on Alkai Beach, she would have laughed. It was hard to believe it even though she was living it.
Grandma had bought a ridiculously good cake from downtown. It was red velvet with sprinkles and had the most amazing frosting she’d ever had in her entire life. She’d even brought the makings for margaritas, Char’s favorite.
Since Grandma’s arrival, Jake had been distant, almost cool. She only hoped it wasn’t because of all the kissing. She’d been upset, and he was just trying to be nice. Like he’d said before, it wasn’t real. It didn’t count because it was her birthday. Right?
“How you holdin’ up?” Jake said, taking a seat by her. “Best birthday ever?”
Char laughed and clinked her glass with his. “Best birthday ever. That is, unless Grandma sets someone on fire, then that would trump it.”
“We’ll be lucky if no one ends up in the ER tonight,” Travis said from their spot on the beach. He and Grandma had been fighting a losing battle with the fireworks for the past hour while everyone else drank margaritas and watched.
“I’m glad we did this,” Kacey said. “Before all the crazy wedding stuff. It’s nice just to be with everyone.”
Grandma snorted as she pulled out another match. Travis backed away while she waved it in the air. “Crazy wedding stuff is right. And don’t think I forgive you two for inviting Petunia.”
Travis groaned. “She’s your sister.”
“She’s a disappointment!” Grandma thrust her fist into the air.
“What did she do?” Char asked, even though Jake was shaking his head no and Travis was waving frantically behind Grandma.
“What did she do?” Grandma asked. “What did she do?”
“She’s repeating herself.” Jake groaned. “Bad sign. Quick, get her another margarita.”
Grandma smacked him on the back of the head and approached Char. “My sister called me a harlot.”
Char bit her lip to keep from laughing.
“At my own wedding!”
Jake raised his hand. “Grandma, you do realize she only called you that because you were on the table—”
“Ssh!” Grandma waved him away. “She’s a prude and she only wears white.”
Char frowned. “Why only white?”
Jake groaned next to her but she ignored him.
Grandma threw the match into the bonfire and shook her head. “She says red’s the color of the devil.”
“And black?”
“The color of hell.”
“Blue?” Char had to ask.
“Sadness.”
“Well, that’s silly.”
“It is,” Grandma agreed. “What she needs is to get a man, but she’s so terrified of them that she’s stayed single. All those years.” She shook her head and tsked.
“All those cats,” Kacey sang from behind Grandma.
“Your future,” Travis nodded, “if you don’t take our advice and go out with Jace.”