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The clack of her heels tells me otherwise. I wait for her at the door, so my parents won’t suspect anything other than Nola and me having a private conversation.
As soon as we step in, Elle rushes to me, wrapping me in her arms. “Quinny, thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome,” I say into the top of her head. Elle releases me and pulls Nola into her arms. They do the giddy girl squeal. But now I know it’s all fake when Nola does it.
Ben and I shake hands and then end up in a hug. I love this dude and am so damn happy my sister figured her shit out before it was too late.
“Okay, now we can start,” Elle says.
“You didn’t have to wait for us,” I tell her.
She holds my hand. “Of course, we did.” Elle kisses my cheek and then runs off with Ben. I guide Nola to the table where my mom and Josie sit with Peyton and Noah.
“Where’s Dad and Liam?” I ask as I pull Nola’s chair out for her. It doesn’t escape my notice that Peyton moves closer to my girlfriend, and they start chatting right away. That shit Nola said outside was nothing more than a deflection from whatever our issues are.
My mom points to the stage, where my dad sits behind a drum kit. Liam sits on a stool, and Justine from Plum sitting next to him.
“What’s going on?”
“Elle asked my dad to sing their wedding song,” Noah says.
“No shit?”
My mom smacks my hand, and Josie laughs.
“What?”
“Don’t what me,” she says.
“Oliver isn’t here, Mom.”
She rolls her eyes, and I do the same. I sit down next to Noah and tell the waiter what kind of beer I want. Shoutout to my parents for paying for an open bar. Something tells me I’m going to need it tonight.
The DJ—because why use any of your own bands or your father’s band to play at your wedding—welcomes Elle and Ben to the dance floor.
“Introducing for not the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Miller.”
Everyone laughs. It would’ve been better if he introduced them as Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin James, since we all know Elle wears the pants in the family.
My dad starts with a low melodic rhythm on the cymbals before moving to the snare, and then Liam strums his acoustic while Justine holds the microphone in her hand. She keeps her eyes on Liam, watching for her cue. I’ve been working with her extensively on duets for our upcoming tour.
As soon as Justine starts singing, I know exactly what song this is. Our parents used to dance to it in the living room. “It’s Your Love” by Tim McGraw with Faith Hill.
I wait for my mom to recognize it, and when she does, her mouth drops open and tears well in her eyes. I wish I could take her out on the dance floor, but this is Elle and Ben’s moment.
Justine sings the first two verses, and then Liam comes in on the chorus. His voice is gritty and low, and everyone loves it. He gets so many requests for duets, but rarely does any. It was his idea to sing on Plum’s album, hoping to catapult them into stardom.
By the time they finish, there isn’t a dry eye in the house. Elle and Ben hug and thank my dad, Liam, and Justine, and the DJ starts playing music.
I’m not shocked to see Mack and Betty Paige out there first, doing the latest fad dance. Elle and Ben stay out there, and everyone starts to follow.
I stay in my seat because, honestly, I’m not sure where Nola and I stand. But because my family is here and they see everything, I move to the seat next to her.
It’s not unusual for my parents to see me sitting out of things. I’m not as outgoing as Elle, and Noah brings it out of Peyton. Sometimes I feel like I’m the outlier.
The song shifts and my voice comes through the speakers. It’s a new one, and one I recorded with Justine. I know Elle’s done this on purpose, to test the audience.
I wait to see if Nola notices, but she doesn’t because, once again, she’s on her phone, and not even paying attention to the action around her. Across the dance floor, I see Justine. She’s dancing to our song. She looks over and waves excitedly. I tip my bottle of beer toward her and take a long swig, emptying the contents, and signal the waiter for another.