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Annie chokes on her Earl Grey. Chris takes a big swig of his mimosa. Nathan, who’s had more practice dealing with my mother, merely laughs and tells her he loves her outfit. I glance over to see if he’s being ironic or mean about it, but he’s smiling genuinely at her and my aunties, and my heart swells because Iknow he’s come to the same conclusion as I have. He loves the fact that my family charges headlong into things, and we love how fiercely they embrace everything.
We settle into our seats, but before we’re able to take a sip of our coffee, Ma nudges me. I look up to see Staph walking toward us. My chest tightens.
“Hey, everyone,” she says, smiling hesitantly.
For Annie and Chris’s sakes, we all return the greeting.
“Just wanted to say bye. We’re headed to Heathrow,” Staph says.
“Well, thank you for all the hard work,” Annie says. She looks around the table, probably puzzled at why none of us is more forthcoming with the praise. “It’s been wonderful having you and your family at the wedding. Isn’t that right?”
“Mm-hmm,” Fourth Aunt says, studying her nails and pursing her lips.
A painfully awkward silence follows.
“Anyway. See you guys,” Staph says, and walks off.
The weird sensation in my chest builds until I can’t stand it anymore and run after her.
“Staph, wait up.” I catch up with her at the door. “I do have one last question.”
Staph looks at me expectantly.
“For fake wedding vendors, you guys actually managed to pull off a pretty amazing wedding. I mean, aside from all the kidnapping and stuff...”
“Oh, yeah,” Staph says with a wry smile. “We did as much research as we could before meeting up with you, but Second Uncle really got into the whole hair and makeup thing because of Second Aunt. Big Uncle didn’t really give a crap about flowers, so we ordered them from a local wedding vendor. And Ama is just a natural at ordering people around. I think she’s missedher calling as a wedding organizer. I don’t know how well Third Uncle would’ve pulled off being an MC; he’s actually a dentist.”
I gape at her. “A dentist?”
“Yep, has a practice in Arcadia.”
“Wow, okay.”
“So what did you want to ask me?”
I hesitate, then plunge ahead. “Well, it would’ve been so easy to let the entire day be a disaster from start to finish. I mean, yes, you did ruin all our photos, not that I’m bitter or anything—”
“I’m sorry about that,” she says with a grimace.
“—but everything else was gorgeous. The decorations, the food, the cake, the music. Why didn’t you tank the entire wedding?”
“Oh, that. You know Ama, she’s got too much pride to do something badly.”
I stare at her. “Seriously?”
“Well, partly that, but also partly because we wanted to make sure that the event was believable and natural for the guests. We didn’t want anyone getting suspicious about us.”
“I see.” I guess that makes sense. And in a strange way, I can totally see Big Aunt taking pride in pulling off a fake wedding, even if it is a fake wedding where she’s plotting to take down the bride and groom.
“Anyway...”
“Yeah.” We look at each other for one beat. “Um. I just wanted to say—” What do I want to say? There are simultaneously too many things and not enough things I want to say. “I—um. I’m sorry.” And I am, for so much of it.
Staph’s eyes are bright with tears, and I realize mine are as well. Over the past few months, she’s become more than just my wedding vendor. She’s become my friend. A confidante and a source of emotional support. Someone who totally gets whereI’m coming from, because her family is exactly like mine. And now I realize that even though we’ve resolved the insane secret conflict between us, we’ll never go back to that again. Our friendship is well and truly dead, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit broken because of it.
“I know,” she says. She holds out her hand. “Truce?”
“Truce.” We shake hands.