“We’re doing one thing at a time,” Reece explained. I imagined he kicked Erica under the table. And I imagined she didn’t care.
“But Bailey’s so good at multitasking,” she said. “And I wanna be a maid of honor!” She tried to make it come out lightly petulant, but it just came out fucking petulant.
“Well, first off, it’s matron of honor since you’re married. And secondly, I’m not all that great at multitasking right now.”
“Then let me help you,” she said.
“You’re busy with your business,” I replied.
“Not really. Taylor does most of the tans right now because I’ve got administrative stuff to deal with.”
“That means you’re busy,” I pointed out.
“Not too busy for you,” she said. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“Erica . . .” Noah warned softly, but she was like a dog with a bone.
“I’m working on my dad’s boat,” I said again. This time slowly so she wouldn’t miss a syllable.
“This wine is going straight through me,” she replied. “Bailey, come with me to the bathroom.”
“But I don’t have to go,” I argued.
She grabbed my hand. “Come with me to the bathroom, please.”
Ugh. Sounded like my old mom. Remember the one who tagged “please” on the end of demands as an afterthought?
Erica was gracious enough to wait until the bathroom door was fully closed before lighting into me.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she hissed.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I shot back. “Shut the fuck up about my wedding plans.”
“Start making some fucking wedding plans!”
“I’m working on the fucking boat!”
“Fuck the fucking boat, Bailey,” she snapped. “Now I love your dad. I do. And I know you’re hurting. But you’re toeing a dangerous line, and that man out there won’t be able to take much more of it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about your neglect. I’m talking about you pushing him away. I know you go days without talking to him.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I know you!” she cried. “It’s been two months, Bailey! Two! You have to start picking up the pieces. Reece loves you to death, but he’s still just a man. He can only take so much.”
I knew Erica was right, but the hole was too deep. I couldn’t pull myself out. Reece sure as hell couldn’t. There was no one who could soothe the pain. The only emollient was my father’s boat, so I had to keep working on it. When I worked on it, I felt in control. Planning my upcoming wedding would not make me feel in control. Planning my upcoming wedding scared the shit out of me, if I’m being perfectly honest.
I did the only thing I could do to appease my friend: lie.
“I’ll do better,” I said.
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Really?”
“Yes. I’ll . . . I’ll allot myself a certain amount of time to work on the boat, and I’ll spend the other time with Reece.”
“And?”
“I’ll start looking at some dresses.”
“Really?”
I nodded.
“I’m not trying to bully you into planning your wedding, B. I just want you to be happy, and I think you’ll discover a lot of joy in doing it. And I wanna help. I wanna share that with you.” She hugged me close. “I miss my friend.”
“I miss you, too,” I replied, and that wasn’t a lie.
When we returned to the table, Reece surprised me with tickets to Vegas. Tickets for all four of us, actually. Erica squealed.
“We knew! I was dying to tell you, but Reece threatened my life,” she said. “We’re leaving in four days!”
“Four days?” I breathed.
“Just a weekend getaway,” Reece said. “I took the time off work for you.”
“You did?”
“I’m gambling. A lot,” Noah said, finishing his wine.
“I wanna go to a burlesque show or something. One of those shows where the women are half-naked!” Erica said.
“You wanna look at half-naked women?” I asked.
“Sure. Why not?”
I forced a smile even as something clicked in my brain that very instant. It was a bad something. It was the voice, switched on, telling me that this wasn’t part of my schedule—that I couldn’t get ready in four days. That I needed more time to plan. That I needed to check my watch and leave the restaurant now. It was close to 10:00 P.M. on the dot, and I needed to be in the car buckled in at 10:00 P.M.
“I think this is awesome!” I lied. I was on the verge of tears, and I could feel the panic swelling like a tidal wave. It started down in my gut. It surged upward into my throat.
“Reece?” I croaked. “I think we better get going now.”
“Why?”
“Well, the bill’s paid up, and I’m tired.” I looked at Erica and Noah. “You don’t mind, do you? All that wine,” I explained.
I saw Erica glance at her cell phone.
“No, I don’t mind,” she said warily.
I hopped up from the table: 9:54 P.M. It would take at least five minutes to walk to the car. We needed to leave. Now.
“Honey, let’s stay for a second,” Reece said. “I thought we’d plan out the trip a little. Talk about the details.”
“There’s time for that,” I said. “Come on.” I threw on my coat.
“Bailey . . .”
“Reece!” I hissed. “I need to leave. Now.”
And then he understood. And he wasn’t happy about it. We said our hasty goodbyes, and then I was off, practically running to the car. I didn’t know what would happen if I missed 10:00 P.M. I imagined I’d fall to pieces, have a nervous breakdown, have to be taken to New Hanover Regional. I imagined they’d drug me into a coma, electroshock me while I was under, and maybe, by the grace of God, I’d wake up normal. Functioning. Able to go on a last-minute trip like every other goddamn person on the planet!
I checked the time: 9:59 P.M. I rounded the corner to the parking deck at full speed.
Please make it, please make it, please make it, I thought desperately.
My hand flew to the door handle. I lifted and pulled. Locked.
“Reece! Unlock the door! Why didn’t you already unlock the door?!” I cried.
“Bailey, this is fucking ridiculous!” he called, running to catch up.
“UNLOCK THE DOOR!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.