Page 115 of What's in a Kiss?

“But she said it with a lot less rage than usual,” Masha says.

“I definitely detected a note of fondness,” Jake says.

Jake’s teasing me—a reassuring return to form, but there’s more to it. Like, in some unconscious part of his mind, he knows what we’re capable of feeling for each other, of being to each other.

Or maybe Jake is looking at me the way he always has, only now I finally see him. I’m going to have to find a way to show him. I’m going to have to take the reins. I’m going to have to—

Kiss him.

“This is what you get when you hire amumar!” Babushka’s rabbi calls out in the audience.

“Sometimes, Rabbi,” Yogi Dan’s voice interrupts my thoughts, “you have to go off script to find the meaning of the scene.” He beams at Masha, then Eli. At Jake, then me. “Look at these lovebirds. Do we want to linger in the moment, or do we want to kiss the bride?”

“We want to kiss the damn bride,” Eli says emphatically.

“While we’re young!” Babushka bellows, making everybody laugh. My gaze is locked with Jake’s again, but the competitiveness has faded, leaving in its place a tingling thrill.

Then the crowd is cheering, the string quartet is playing “Just Like Heaven,” and Masha and Eli are walking by us, hand in hand.

“Damn it, I missed the kissagain,” I say.

“Somehow I don’t think you missed a thing.” Jake’s fingers graze mine, then pull away. “Sorry—”

“For what? I mean, no problem! I mean... I didn’t mind.” I palm my face in an effort to shut up. Taking the reins is going amazingly so far.

“What’s going on in there?” Jake nods in the direction of the fireworks exploding in my mind.

“I’m just... happy,” I say with a smile to prove it. “For Masha and Eli. You know.”

“I do know,” he says, innuendos in his eyes. “I’m happy, too.”

Someone shakes my shoulder. “Maid of honor? Best man?” the stressed-out wedding photographer says. “I need you for a photo.”

Jake follows me out from under the wedding canopy, where we pass Yogi Dan, who gives me two vigorous thumbs-up.

“Thank you,” I whisper, pausing for a moment to unclasp my purse and pass him what’s left of the giant joint before I go.

Jake and I walk down the beach toward the water, and as we pass Lifeguard Tower 28, I see a familiar silhouette. Upswept mop of red hair, orchid tucked behind her ear, face hidden by binoculars.

“I’ll be right there,” I say to Jake and the photographer as my heart soars out of my chest.

“Mom?”

“Shit!” Lorena ducks behind the tower. “I’m not here. You don’t see me.” She drops the binoculars and her guard. “I respect Masha’s small-wedding wishes, but I had to watch my baby’s BBS tie the knot. You look so beautiful, honey, and you did such a good job pulling all this off. I’m proud of you.”

I throw my arms around her, holding tighter than I’ve ever held anyone before. “I love you, Mom. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby,” she says with deep affection, making no move to loosen our embrace. “You’re my best. Now get back out there. Don’t leave Jake Glasswell hanging.”

I pull away, dabbing tears from my eyes. I want to see her face. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, before that photographer interrupted you, it looked like you were in the middle of something juicy. Squeeze it till the juice runs down your—”

“Mom!” I say. “We were only talking.”

“You think I don’t know? I’m your mother. I know. It’s time you got wise.”

I smile at her. “I’ll call you later.”