Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“Small world, I guess.” I tried to sound casual.
“And you had a drink.”
“Yes.”
“And that’s it? Nothing happened?”
I glanced sharply at him. “Happened?”
“You know. Between you and Millie.” He shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Sorry if this is weird to ask, I just got a strange feeling in there that there was more to the story.”
“There wasn’t. There isn’t.”
“I guess it’s not my business anyway,” he said. “You’re both adults, and it’s not like you knew that she was my ex-girlfriend, or she knew that you’re my father. I just . . . I guess I just like things to be out in the open. I’ve spent so many years of my life feeling like things were hidden from me. Wanting to know the truth and never getting answers. I hate that feeling.”
“I understand.”
We reached the door and he put a hand on it but didn’t pull it open. He looked me in the eye. “It means a lot to me, your honesty. We can’t change the past, but we can set the tone for the future. So if you give me your word, I’ll believe you.”
If I was going to tell the truth, I had to do it now—but there was no way I’d do it without Millie knowing. I had to keep up the lie. “You have my word. Nothing happened.”
He smiled, looking younger than twenty-eight, giving me a glimpse of the boy he’d been. “Okay. Thanks.”
For the next forty minutes or so, Millie and I successfully avoided eye contact. The room was all set up for the ceremony tomorrow, rows of white chairs set up on what was probably a dance floor at the far end of the room with a gold runner between them. A large arch made of greenery and decorated with white flowers stood at the head of the aisle in front of massive windows, and beyond it the autumn landscape of the farm was visible, trees aflame with scarlet and gold and burnt orange. It reminded me of seasons many years past, making me a little nostalgic for my early childhood in Ohio.
I mostly stayed out of the way as Millie went over the order of who’d be seated when, how the wedding party procession would go, and the timing of it all. She answered tons of questions from Lori and her mother in a reassuring and professional manner. Obviously excellent at her job, she impressed me even more because I knew that her mind must be reeling.
“So it goes groom and groomsmen in position, Lori’s grandparents seated, Lori’s mom seated, bridesmaids, maid of honor, flower girl and ring bearer, and then Lori and her dad,” Millie said. “Should we walk through it?”
“What about Zach?” Mason asked. “When does he get seated?”
“Oh.” Millie checked a clipboard, like the answer might be there somewhere. “Um, he could be seated . . . after the grandparents, before Lori’s mom?”
“I really don’t need to be recognized.” I put up my hands, inwardly hoping Mason would reconsider. “I don’t feel right about it, honestly.”
“But it’s important to me,” said Mason. “And you should sit in the front row.”
“I know,” said Lori’s mom, a well-dressed woman in a burgundy suit. “Why doesn’t he escort me to my seat? That way my husband can stay with Lori.”
“That’s perfect.” Lori nodded enthusiastically. “Great idea, Mom.”
Mrs. Campion walked over to me and smiled. “Okay with you, Zach?”
“Of course.”
Laughing, she offered me her arm. “Should we practice?”
“Yes,” said Millie, moving with efficiency to line everyone else up. “Lori and Mr. Campion, you’ll be out of sight over there. Gentlemen, you’ll line up with best man and groom last and head up the aisle to your place to the right of the arch. Ladies, flower girl, and ring bearer, you’ll be with the bride—line up with maid of honor and kids last.”
I did my part, walking Mrs. Campion up the aisle, leading her to her seat in the front row on the left, and then taking a seat in the first row, as Mason had requested.
The rest of the rehearsal went quickly, and then everyone headed back to the main lobby of the inn. I tried to linger behind in the hopes of catching a minute with Millie alone, but she stayed with the group, leading the way back across the path. It was dark now, and a few flurries were drifting down from the sky.
In the lobby, the group reassembled and made plans for driving over to the restaurant where dinner was being held. “Want to ride with us?” Mason asked me.
“No, thanks. I’ll meet you there.” I gave him a stiff smile. “I’m just going to use the men’s room before I leave.”
“Okay,” he said, helping Lori with her coat. “No rush—our reservation isn’t for another half hour, so we’ll probably hang out in the bar first. You’ve got the address?”