32 Candles

. . .

I suppose that I should have been insulted that Veronica’s family took to Nicky in a way that they had never taken to me. But in all fairness, he had never lied to Veronica about attending high school with her. Plus, with the club and all the rental property he had bought in Inglewood back during the housing slump after the Los Angeles riots, he was pretty well off. Not Farrell millions or anything, but he was definitely doing better than most. And a self-made man was pretty hard to resist.

And if his “tell it like it is” accent was a little off-putting, at least they had the comfort of knowing it was also put-on. Contrary to the way he talked at the club, Veronica had probably found out, like I had, that his parents were actually both college professors. And the few times we had visited with them, Nicky had spoken English like he was straight off an Ivy League campus, with dulcet tones that I wasn’t even aware he was capable of—though I had a feeling that voice would make a repeat performance at the wedding.

Anyway, Nicky’s being rich enough, successful, and well-educated, plus the unexpected wonder of seeing Veronica in love (I think in their secret heart of hearts they had given up on that ever happening) was enough to make them welcome Nicky to the family with open arms.

I was mighty tempted to ask him if Veronica had sicced a detective on him the way she had on me, but Nicky was happy, so I kept my thoughts on his fiancée to myself.

I was checking my mail a few weeks later, after Veronica said yes, and found an invitation to their engagement party.

Opening the envelope reminded me of the last invitation I had received from Veronica all those years ago in high school. And for a hysterical moment, I wondered if this one was a fake, too. Maybe I would arrive at the downtown Standard Hotel where they were throwing the party, only to find Veronica and her friends on the colonial porch, laughing at me.

But those were just crazy thoughts. The Standard didn’t have a colonial porch. And unlike the Farrell party invite, this was one invitation that I didn’t plan to accept.

A few minutes later, I hand-delivered my RSVP card to Nicky in his office.

He didn’t argue when I dropped it on his desk, with the “I’m sorry, I won’t be able to attend” box marked with a firm “X.”

“I understand you got conflicts, so you don’t got to come to the engagement party,” he said. “But you got to be a bridesmaid.”

I laughed, because I was sure that he was joking. Then I remembered that Nicky didn’t joke. In fact, he often said that a sense of humor was overrated, and always ignored me when I asked him, “How would you know?”

The laugh died in my mouth. “Now I know Veronica didn’t agree to that.”

“Veronica understands that I’m not walking down the aisle if you ain’t there. Plus I’m letting James be one of my groomsmen.”

I sat down. This could not be happening.

“You’ve got to do it, Davie,” he said with a determined look on his face. “By the time the wedding rolls around, it’ll be over a year since you two broke up. You was only dating four months. How long you planning on carrying that?”

Had it only been four months? It felt like it had been so much longer. “All right, I guess so,” I said. “As long as I don’t have to walk down the aisle with him or anything.”

Nicky shrugged apologetically. “Thing is, Veronica don’t have any real friends, so she only has two people to stand up for her. And Tammy got to walk with Leon.”

“Why?” I asked.

He frowned at me. “Because Tammy’s the maid of honor and Leon’s my best man, fool.”

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