The way he and Laurie played in the park together yesterday, and the way he looked at me . . . maybe there is hope that things can turn out right this time. Getting changed out of my bridesmaid dress and into my burgundy cocktail dress that I'm wearing for the reception, I can't help it. I'm looking forward to the future.
Laurie is glad to be out of her Easter dress, and Mom surprises me when she says she is skipping the reception to take Laurie home. "There's going to be drinking, and while I’m glad that Danielle is getting married, this is a party for you and her. Besides, I've got work tomorrow, and a certain little girl should go to bed early. Have fun."
"Mom . . ." I say, trying to find the words. "But—"
"I know," Mom says simply, smiling. "You think Laurie chewing my ear off for two hours about her time in the park yesterday didn't give me all the clues I needed? It's okay, we'll talk about it later. Just know that I . . . I'm okay with it."
"I love you, Mom," I say, and give her a hug. "Oh, and one more thing. No Froot Loops before bed, no matter how much Laurie begs this time. She can't have all that sugar."
"You did okay on Froot Loops," Mom grumbles good-naturedly, then leaves, Laurie in hand, the two of them talking and getting along. I’d been worried, but five minutes together, and Laurie was ecstatic to be hanging out with her grandmother.
I drive to the reception, which is being held at a house along the river. Apparently, the Barkovich family knows some people who can afford houses in the best parts of Silver Lake Falls. The house overlooks the actual Silver Lake itself, just a little way up the Silver River close to Slater's Point, and it’s big enough for the entire party.
Troy's still wearing his suit, I notice, as he gets out of his car. When I first saw him in town, I figured him for a sports car or maybe a gaudy SUV, like so many other professional athletes, but Troy's the complete opposite, driving a two-year-old Nissan Altima that looks like any other four-door sedan. Still, as he makes his way across the grass of the parking area, he cuts a path just by his natural charisma and presence. Well, that and being six foot two, two hundred and thirty-two beautiful pounds of athletic manhood. I am soooo lucky.
"You look beautiful," Troy says to me as we come closer. "Then again, even in that horrible dress, you looked beautiful."
"Flattery is much appreciated," I say, patting his shoulder and barely holding back the urge to do more. "And you should charge whoever made this suit. A picture of you in it should double their sales with the way you look."
Troy actually blushes slightly and smirks. "Okay, well, let's hold off on the rest until the big reveal. Deal?"
"Deal. Come on."
For the first half of the reception, Troy and I consciously stay on nearly opposite sides of the party, and in some ways, I feel like I'm back not in high school, but junior high school as the girls tend to stick to one side, the boys to the other. Eventually, Cory, who came in town from his new job down in San Francisco, comes over to greet us. He's looking pretty debonair, although there's still that air of being a party boy to him, like he hasn't quite figured out if he wants to settle down yet or if he's still looking for the next club to hit up. "Whitney Nelson. I just had to come over and say it's so good to see you again."
"How're you doing, Cory?" I ask, giving him a quick hug. "My, my, you've gained weight.”
"Hey, hey, it's just five pounds!" Cory laughs, and we both know I'm kidding. He's nowhere near the athlete that Troy is, but Cory's got a slim build now, kind of executive-ish. "You, on the other hand, look absolutely amazing. And can I ask, that little girl with your Mom at the ceremony?"
"Yes, she's my daughter," I confirm. "Laurie."
"I see," Cory says. "You know, she looks a lot like you. She's got the same cute smile."
"Thanks. What about you? Have you found someone yet?"
Cory laughs and sips at his mixed drink, shaking his head. “There's no way I'm ready to settle down yet."
I laugh and shake my head. "So how are you enjoying the party?"
"This is awesome," Cory says, becoming a little more serious. "I just got done talking to Troy. We've kept up a little since high school, email and phone calls and such, and I saw him play once last season when the Hawks played the Dons, but this is the first time since after our freshmen year in college that I got to sit down and talk with him in person—he’s gotten huge."
"You're telling me," I reply, and Cory gives me a knowing look. "Don't go there, Cory."
He nods, then smirks. "Well, no matter what, Troy just made my quarter. He asked me about how work's going, and when I told him that so far I'm doing well, beating the market, at least, he nods and asks for a business card. That crazy SOB tells me he wants to take half . . . half of his salary and have me invest it for him. Now, I know that still leaves him stupid levels of money, but Jesus, Whitney. I just got handed what, a million dollars a year to invest?"