They were a loud family. Everyone was always in everyone else’s business. There were no secrets in the DeLaura house. It was one of the things she loved best about her future in-laws.
Mr. and Mrs. DeLaura watched their boys with obvious pride and then turned to accept the Harpers into the fold. Little did Tate’s parents know that when Tate married Angie, the DeLauras would then consider the Harpers family as well. That’s how the DeLauras worked. The family was inclusive and ever expanding. There would be no split holidays between the DeLauras and the Harpers. Oh no, they would be shared, whether the uptight Mr. Harper liked it or not. Mel suspected not.
What an incredible gift it was. Mel realized she’d always been treated like one of the family by the DeLauras because she was Angie’s best friend, but when she married Joe, it would be official. She grinned. She was going to belong to this family.
“What are you grinning about?” Joyce asked her as she moved to stand beside Mel.
“Just happy for Tate and Angie,” she said. She didn’t want to start talking about her marriage to Joe, because Joyce would start planning.
“They are a lovely couple,” Joyce agreed.
They both turned to look at Angie and Tate. They were standing with Manny Martinez and his girlfriend, Holly Hartzmark, and her daughter, Sidney. It occurred to Mel that Tate and Angie would likely have kids soon. After all, the business was doing amazing and they were in their thirties.
“So, what do you think of the Biltmore?” Joyce asked.
“Huh?” Mel turned back to her mother and met the blue-green hazel gaze so like her own.
“For your wedding to dear Joe?” Joyce asked. “You know, you really need to set a date. You’re not getting any younger.”
Mel smiled. She should have seen this coming. Joyce would never be at peace until Mel was married. Mel decided to make it easy for her mother for a change and accept the suggestion.
“I’ll ask Joe what he thinks,” Mel said.
“You will?”
“Yep.”
“I . . . well . . . that’s . . .”
“You okay, Mom?” Mel asked.
“Yes, it’s just that you never listen to me,” Joyce said. She gave Mel a look as if she was afraid Mel had contracted some rare tropical virus. “Are you feeling all right? You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“Mom!” Mel wailed.
“Pregnant people act weird,” Joyce said. “It’s a fact.”
Mel noticed heads were turning in their direction with wide eyes. Oh, man, if this crazy idea of her mother’s got loose there’d be no corralling it.
“I am not pregnant,” Mel said. She had to say it loud enough so that Angie’s cousins, who were clearly eavesdropping, could hear her.
“If you say so, honey.” Joyce grinned at her as if she were in on a secret.
Mel slapped her forehead with her hand. “I need a drink.”
“You really shouldn’t in your condition,” Joyce said.
“Oh. My. God.” Mel turned on her heel and walked away from her mother to find a punch bowl to dive into or a crack in the wall in which to disappear.
She slammed right into Uncle Stan, who was approaching with two drinks in hand. Mel reached out and took one and downed it in one large swallow.
It was a Manhattan. It burnt like jet fuel. Her eyes watered. She sputtered and coughed.
“Mel!” Uncle Stan frowned. “That was for your mother.”
“Yeah, well, she drove me to it,” she said.
She gave him the empty glass and pushed past him and maneuvered her way over to Oz and Marty. They were chatting it up with a bunch of single cousins and an aunt who had flown in from New York for the festivities.
“What are you two doing?” Mel asked. She threw an arm around each of their shoulders and hugged them hard. “Have I ever told you guys how much I love you?”
Marty swiveled his head in her direction and wrinkled his nose. “You smell like a cheap date; have you been drinking?”
“Not enough,” Mel said.
Oz looked at her and shook his head as if he was seeing a side of her he could have lived without.
“It was one drink; relax, you judgmental jennies,” Mel said. “Hey, do you think they’re going to have karaoke? I could really bust out a ballad about now.”
“What was in that one drink? Gasoline?” Marty looped his arm around Mel’s back and gestured to Oz. “Come on, someone needs to carb up on some appetizers before she embarrasses herself.”
With Oz and Marty trotting her after a waiter with a tray of crab puffs, Mel noted that the room was pretty full and dinner would likely start soon. Thank goodness, she was starving.
When Marty tapped the waiter’s shoulder, he turned and held out the tray to them. Oz took the whole tray and when the waiter took a good look at the hulking man-boy with the lip rings and the bangs that covered his eyes, he clasped his hands together and backed away.
The three of them took the tray to the corner, where Marty handed Mel a napkin and said, “Eat.”
Mel did not need to be told twice. After stuffing three of the delicate pastries into her face hole, Mel felt a bit better. Clearly the drink had been ill advised, but truly only her mother could drive her to drink that fast.
“So, how come you two are without the plus-ones?” she asked. She looked at Marty. “I thought you’d make up with Olivia in time to bring her to the wedding.” He shrugged. She turned to Oz and asked, “And what about Lupe? Is she coming tomorrow?”
“She couldn’t make it,” he said. “She said to say ‘hey.’”
“Oh.” Mel frowned. The quick shot of alcohol was rapidly leaving her system as she sensed Oz’s hurt. “Are you o—”
“Now, Oz and I have been thinking about Tate and Angie’s wedding gift,” Marty said.
Mel looked at him. He was standing just behind Oz and he was jerking his head towards Oz and bugging his eyes out, meaning something was wrong and Mel should tread carefully. She blinked twice to let him know she got it.
“I really think Oz making their wedding cupcakes is gift enough,” Mel said. “Did you finish them?”
“This afternoon,” Oz said. He looked like he’d wilt with relief. “All I have to do is get them set up tomorrow and we’re good.”
“I bet they’re amazing,” Mel said.
Oz’s face blushed a little beneath the bangs, and Mel knew he was pleased. She couldn’t resist, so she raised her hand and moved aside his hair so she could look him in the eye.
“I’m really proud of you, you know that, right?” she asked.
This time Oz turned bright red and he didn’t have his hair to hide behind. To her surprise, instead of pulling away he tossed his head, moving his bangs to the side, and he grinned at her.
“Well, I did learn from the best,” he said. He opened his arms wide and Mel hugged him.
“You know, us non-culinary types help out in the bakery, too,” Marty said.
Mel and Oz looked at him and then opened their arms, pulling him in. Mel felt her heart swell.
“Group hug!” Angie’s voice sounded from behind them and she and Tate appeared and muscled their way into the circle.
The five of them looped their arms about one another and Mel took a second to look at each of her people. They had been together through so much over the past two-plus years. She couldn’t imagine her life without them, but tomorrow, two of them were going to get married and everything would change.
She was filled with a crazy sense of panic about the future and what that would be like. Would they all still get along, or would Angie and Tate start a family and no longer be a part of the day-to-day running of the bakery? Maybe they would decide they wanted their own franchise and they’d move to California or Maine? Mel felt her heart clutch. She wanted to be happy for them but inside she wa
s freaking out. Completely freaking out.
Sixteen
She forced herself to breathe and remember this moment in time just like Tate’s mother had told Angie to do. She didn’t want to blink and have it all just fall away.
“Have I told you guys lately how much I love you?” Angie asked.
Marty, Oz, and Mel burst out laughing and Oz said, “Quick, get her a crab puff.”
“No, I’m serious,” Angie said. “I love you guys, all of you, and I just feel really, really lucky to have you in my life.”
She ended with a sob, and tears coursed down her cheeks. Tate broke the group hug to gently wipe them off her face with his thumbs.
“You okay, honey?” he asked.
“It’s just that everything’s going to change,” Angie said.
“Yes, it will, but I hope it’ll be a good change,” Tate said.
“‘Friendship isn’t about being inseparable, but about being separated and knowing nothing will change,’” Oz said.
Mel and Angie looked at him. Angie’s tears dried up as she tried to identify the movie quote. She looked at Mel and shrugged.
“Ted,” Tate identified the movie quote, and he and Oz shared some complicated handshake thingy that looked like they were trying to arm wrestle or fly; Mel wasn’t sure.
“Dude movie. Whatever,” Angie said. She laughed and the sad moment passed. She looped her arm through Mel’s and said, “Let’s go sit so they’ll start serving, or else I’m likely to wrestle a waiter to the ground and swipe all their food.”
And just like that everything was back to normal and Mel knew it was going to be okay. Joe slid into the seat next to Mel’s and laced her fingers with his. Maybe they didn’t see eye to eye on the handling of Cassie’s situation, but Joe would never abandon her over it. It made her love him all the more.
“How you doing, cupcake?” he asked.
She squeezed his hand in return. “Never better.”
“Don’t worry about Cassie,” he said. “We’ll figure it out. I promise.”
“Have I told you lately how much I love you?” she asked him.
Joe narrowed his eyes. “Have you been drinking?”
“Yes, but I ate my body weight in crab puffs, so it’s all good,” she said.
She leaned her head upon his shoulder, taking a moment to appreciate him, his warmth, his strength, his humor, and his steadfastness. She promised herself she would never take him for granted. Then she glanced up to find him looking at her with an affection that was so thick she was pretty sure she could have wrapped it around her shoulders like a blanket.
“I love you, too,” he said.
The tension that had been between them eased. No, the problem hadn’t gone away and likely there would be more discussions, but their foundation was strong and they could handle it. Just like they could handle whatever life threw at them—together.
At that moment, Joe’s aunt Rosalind walked by their table. She wrapped an arm around each of them, suffocating them in her floral perfume, and kissed both of their cheeks.
“Such beautiful babies you will have,” she said. She clapped her hands together and then started to cry happy tears as she walked away after patting both of their cheeks.
Joe lifted one eyebrow and looked at Mel. “Is there something you care to share?”
“Yeah, about that . . .” she began. Then she couldn’t help herself—she started to laugh. She couldn’t explain it. It was just too ridiculous. She leaned forward and kissed him quick. “Not right now, but someday?”
“All right,” he agreed.
Mel put her head back on his shoulder. She felt her lips curve up. Rosalind was right. They would have beautiful babies, especially if they looked like Joe. Her heart swelled with joy at the thought.
* * *
• • •
“Angie, come on! We’re late!” Mel cried.
When Mel arrived at Angie’s parents’ house to pick her up and take her to the salon, Angie appeared at the front door still in her pajamas, looking as if she’d just woken up.
“What do you mean we’re late?” Angie asked. “I just checked the time. It’s only ten o’clock.”
“Try looking again,” Mel said. “It’s ten of twelve and if we’re late Mean Christine is going to refuse to do your hair and makeup.”
Angie gaped at her and then at the clock and back at her. The time thing was not computing.
Feeling compelled to use a scare tactic, Mel yelled, “Hurry up!”
“Oh my god, I overslept,” Angie cried. Her brothers were scattered all over the house, sleeping on couches and floors. “Why didn’t anyone wake me?”
“Because they’re men,” Mel said. “They’re going to take three-minute showers, two-minute shaves, shrug on their tuxedos, and be ready to go. Meanwhile, we have hours of prep to begin. Let’s go.”
Angie blinked at her in confusion.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Mel said. She stormed into Mrs. DeLaura’s kitchen and mercifully found the coffeepot on. She poured Angie a big mug and loaded it with milk and sugar. She hurried back to the front room and thrust the cup at Angie.
“Okay, now let’s go,” she said.
“But—” Angie looked down at her outfit.
“No time,” Mel said.
“Where are the other bridesmaids?” Angie said.
“Already at the salon,” Mel said. “Good thing, too. They’re stalling Mean Christine until you get there.”
“Ow, Angie, watch where you’re stepping,” Al complained as he rolled over.
“Bride coming through,” Mel said. “Move it, move it, move it.”
She shuffled her feet like she was kicking up leaves instead of DeLaura brothers, dragging Angie behind her as she made her way to the door.
“How did you know I was still here?” Angie asked.
“I went to the salon first. You know, where we agreed last night we’d meet up,” Mel said. “But you weren’t there and all of the bridesmaids were and we realized we’d left you at the mercy of the brothers. What were we thinking?”
Angie cupped the mug in her hands. She looked at Mel with enormous eyes. Her hair was a tangled mess and she still had creases from her pillowcase on her cheek. She was wearing a baggy T-shirt over cotton pajama bottoms. By the front door she slipped on a pair of flip-flops, grabbing her purse as they hurried down the walkway.
Halfway to Mel’s car, Mr. and Mrs. DeLaura came into view. They were in matching jogging suits and Mel knew they were doing their daily ten thousand steps.
“Angie!” Mrs. DeLaura cried. “What are you doing here? You should have left for the salon by now.”
“On my way,” Angie said.
She paused to look at her parents in the midday sun. They were the picture of a couple who’d had good times and bad, but had never, ever given up on each other or the family they’d created. She turned to Mel and handed her the mug of coffee and her purse.
“Hey, Mom, Dad, in case I forget to mention it in all the insanity later, I just want to say thanks,” Angie said. Her voice wobbled a bit, as if unsteady under all of the emotion it was carrying. “You really are the best parents a girl could ever ask for and I’m so glad you’re mine.”
Mel felt her throat get tight, so she took a sip of Angie’s coffee to try and ease it. She watched as both of the DeLauras hugged and kissed their only daughter with tears of joy in their eyes. Mel felt her own eyes get hot, and she knew that she’d better drink more than the daily recommended sixty-four ounces of fluid because the flood waters in her tear ducts were rising.
“Go. We’ll see you back at the house when you’re ready to get dressed,” Mrs. DeLaura said.
She made a shooing motion with her hands and Angie hurried back to Mel. She scrubbed her face with her hands and sighed as she took back her coffee.
“I hope Christine has a line of all waterproof makeup,” she said. “Something is telling me I’m going to need it.”
Mel laughed and opened the passenger door for her. Angie slid in and Mel circled the car to get in the driver’s seat. She glanced at her phone on the way. She could get them there pretty close to on time, and if they were late she’d just have to bargain with Christine the old-fashioned way.
Christine’s salon was nestled in the heart of Old Town. Mel scored a parking spot down the street under a shady tree, and she and Angie hurried towards the stylist’s lair.
Mel pulled open the glass door, and Angie ducked inside. The woman at the counter glanced up at Angie and then frowned. It was an intimidating frown given that her hair was wound into a huge brunette bun on the top of her head, her eyebrows had been threaded into severe arcs, her false eyelashes were so long they kicked up a small breeze when she blinked, and her lips were pursed in a deep plum color that matched the wraparound dress she wore. She was intimidation personified.
The other two women working the counter beside her, a blonde and a redhead, looked exactly the same with the big bun, eyelashes, lip color, and same colored wrap dress. Christine liked uniformity in her staff. It certainly made a statement with three of them staring at Mel and Angie in disapproval.
“You’re late,” the brunette said.
“Sorry, bridal jitters,” Angie said with small smile.
“Christine makes no exceptions,” the redhead said.
“Not even if you’re spitting up blood and possessed by the devil himself,” the blonde added.
Mel and Angie exchanged a look.
“She’s gotten even more hard-core,” Angie said.
“No worries,” Mel said. “I’ll talk to her.”
“No, you won’t,” Christine said.
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