We’ll Always Have Summer

On Monday afternoon Conrad and I were eating outside on the deck. He had grilled chicken and corn for lunch. He hadn’t been kidding when he said all he ever ate was grilled chicken.

“Did Jere tell you what he wants you and Steven to wear for the wedding?” I asked him.

Conrad shook his head, looking confused. “I thought guys just wore suits for weddings.”

“Well, yeah, but you guys are his best men, so you’re all dressing alike. Khaki shorts and white-linen button-down shirts. He didn’t tell you?”

“This is the first I’m hearing about linen shirts. Or being a best man.”

I rolled my eyes. “Jeremiah needs to get on the ball. Of course you’re his best man. You and Steven both are.”

“How can there be two best men? ‘Best’ implies only one.” Biting into his corn on the cob, he said, “Let Steven be it, I don’t care.”

“No! You’re Jeremiah’s brother. You have to be his best man.”

My phone rang as I was explaining to him what being the best man entailed. I didn’t recognize the number, but since the wedding planning had gotten under way, I’d been getting a lot of those.

“Is this Isabel?” I didn’t recognize the voice. She sounded older, like someone my mother’s age. Whoever she was, she had a thick Boston accent.

I said, “Um, this is she. I mean, her.”

“My name is Denise Coletti, I’m calling from Adam Fisher’s office.”

“Oh… hello. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yes, hello. I just need you to okay a few things for your wedding. I’ve selected a catering service called Elegantly Yours; they do events around the area. They’re doing this very last-minute for us; this caterer books months in advance for parties. Is this all right with you?”

Faintly, I said, “Sure.”

Conrad looked at me quizzically, and I mouthed, Denise Coletti. His eyes widened, and he gestured for me to give him the phone. I waved his hand away.

Then Denise Coletti said, “Now, how many people are you expecting?”

“Twenty, if everyone can come.”

“Adam told me more like forty. I’ll check with him.” I could hear her typing. “So probably four to five appetizers a person. Do we want a vegetarian option for the meal?”

“I don’t think Jeremiah and I have any vegetarian friends.”

“All right. Are you going to want to go and do a tasting? I think you probably should.”

“Uh, okay.”

“Wonderful. I’ll book you for next week, then. Now for seating arrangements. Do you want two or three long tables or five round tables?”

“Um…” I hadn’t even thought of tables. And what was she talking about, forty? I was wishing I had Taylor next to me to tell me what to do. “Can I get back to you on that?”

Denise let out a little sigh, and I knew I had said the wrong thing. “Sure, but be as quick as you can so I can give them the go-ahead. That’s all for now. I’ll be touching base with you again later this week. Oh, and congratulations.”

“Thank you very much, Denise.”

Next to me, Conrad called out, “Hi, Denise!”

She said, “Is that Connie? Tell him hello from me.”

“Denise says hello,” I told him.

Then she said mazel tov, and we hung up.

“What’s going on?” Conrad asked me. He had a corn kernel stuck on his cheek. “Why is Denise calling you?”

I put my phone down and said, “Um, apparently, your dad’s secretary is our wedding planner now. And we’re inviting forty people instead of twenty.” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Blandly, he said, “That’s good news.”

“How is that good news?”

“It means my dad is okay with you guys getting married. And he’s paying for it.” Conrad started to cut his chicken.

“Huh. Wow.” I stood up. “I’d better call Jere. Wait, it’s the middle of the day. He’s still at work.”

I sat back down.

I probably should have felt relieved that someone else was taking over, but instead I just felt overwhelmed. This wedding was getting a lot bigger than I had imagined it. Now we were renting tables? It was all too much, too sudden.

Across from me, Conrad was buttering another ear of corn. I looked down at my plate. I wasn’t hungry anymore. I felt sick to my stomach.

“Eat,” Conrad said.

I took a small bite of chicken.

I wouldn’t get to talk to Jeremiah until later that evening. But the person I really wanted to talk to was my mother. She would have known how to configure the tables and where to seat everyone. Denise wasn’t the one I wanted to swoop in and tell me what to do, and not Mr. Fisher either, or even Susannah. I only wanted my mother.