Perfect on Paper (36 page)

“Waverly?”

“Yes?”

“No more thinking, okay?”

“Okay,” I whispered.

Just then the waiter appeared with a single piece of chocolate cake with a small candle on top.

I looked at the cake and then at Jake. “How did you know?”

“Hey, give a guy some credit. Now go ahead, make a wish.”

I laughed. “You want me to make a wish?”

“Yep.”

“Really?”

He nodded.

“Are you sure you’re not related to Scotty?”

“What?” he said.

“I mean, are you sure your last name’s not Ryan, too?”

“Ryan?” he said again.

I raised my eyebrows. “You know, Jake Ryan,
Sixteen Candles
?”

“Huh?”

I shrugged. “It’s a girl thing.” I leaned down and blew the candle out, then looked up at him and smiled.

“Happy birthday, Waverly,” he said.

“Thank you, Jake McIntyre,” I whispered.

He cleared his throat.

“So …,” he said.

“So …,” I said.

“So you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Um, what was it again?”

He smiled. “You’re killing me.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Have you ever noticed that I tend to change the subject when I get nervous?”

He laughed. “I’ve noticed. Okay, I’ll ask you another question. Do you remember what you asked me when we first met?”

I had no idea what he was talking about. What had I asked him? That whole night was a blur.

“Um, if you like pineapple on your pizza? If you own any Barry Manilow music? If you’ve ever eaten a whole chicken?”

He laughed again. “Nope.”

“Can you give me a little hint?” I tapped my fingers on the table.

“You asked me what I don’t like about working in the NBA. Do you remember?”

I nodded. “That’s right, I did ask you that.”

He scratched his eyebrow and took a deep breath, then leaned across the table and took my hands in his. His touch set off a spark that shot through my entire body, from my fingers all the way down to my toes.

“Can I answer that question now?” he said.

I nodded again. The ability to speak was gone.

“Waverly, there are a lot of beautiful women in the world, and you are certainly one of them. But appearances can be deceiving, and that night I was going to tell you how hard it is for me to meet someone who is real, someone smart and witty and independent and down-to-earth.”

My eyes were slightly unfocused.

“It is?” I said softly.

He leaned closer toward me and smiled. “Yes. I wanted to meet someone who is all those things, someone who’s as beautiful as she looks, but whose true beauty can’t be captured in a photograph.”

I swallowed hard. “You did?”

He rubbed his thumbs over my palms. “I wanted to meet someone like you.”

My voice came back as a squeak. “I’m those things?”

He nodded. “I knew it from the first few moments I talked to you. You’re different, Waverly. I don’t know what it is, but there’s just something about you.”

“There is?”

“Maybe it’s your sarcasm. Or your ridiculous yet adorable observations. Or that you aren’t afraid to speak your mind. Or the way your eyes sparkle when you laugh.”

I sat there, frozen.

“Or maybe it’s none of those things.” He squeezed my hands tight. “Maybe it’s just that when I’m with you, all I can think about is how much I want to kiss you.”

“Me?” I whispered.

He slowly leaned toward me. “Yes, you. You have something special, something very, very special, and I’m determined to figure out what it is.”

“You are?”

He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Yes.”

I took a deep breath and looked at him.

“Jake?”

“Yes?” He leaned even closer.

“Can I ask you something?”

He nodded. “Have you ever noticed that I like you a lot?” I whispered.

He put his finger on my lips and smiled. “Shhh.”

I smiled and closed my eyes. I was … melting.

And then Wendall P. Feldman kissed me.

The day of the wedding was unusually warm, so McKenna and I decided to go for one last walk before the big one down the aisle. We met in front of Peet’s Coffee at ten. Our hair and makeup appointments weren’t until two o’clock, so we were good on time. After dozens of practice runs, we’d finally decided that she would wear her hair down and straight and mine would be pulled back into a high curly bun.

Oh, and I was going to wear a tiara.

Just kidding.

As we headed down the hill, I looked out at the sailboats and then back at her. “Hey, Mackie, how many of these walks do you think we’ve done?”

“Oh God, a ton,” she said. “I don’t know, maybe a couple hundred?”

“Wow, that’s a boatload of walks. You’d think you’d see some evidence of that in my calves,” I said, looking down at my legs.

She laughed. “I hear you on that.”

“I can’t really remember what my life was like without you and these walks in it, ya know?” I said.

She put her hands on her hips. “You’re not going to get all sappy on me, are you? I don’t want to have puffy eyes for the wedding.”

I pushed her arm. “Shut up, I’m being serious. I really want to tell you how important you are to me.”

“I know, I know. I can’t remember what my life was like without you either. And I don’t even want to think about what it would be like without you now.”

“I can pretty much assure you that you won’t have to worry about that, especially if this whole ‘quitting my job’ thing backfires and I end up sleeping on your couch,” I said.

“Oh please, you’re going to do great.”

“But seriously, without your friendship I think I would dry up and blow away like an old snail shell,” I said.

She put her arm around me as we walked. “Lovely visual. Are you going to use that one in a Honey Note?”

“Hmm, not a bad idea.”

“Ya know, I’m still waiting for some sort of royalties from all the creative inspiration this friendship of ours has given you for those cards,” she said.

I extended my hand. “I’m sorry, have we met? I’m Waverly Bryson. And I don’t think so.”

After our walk, we stopped in front of my apartment, hugged each other a tearful goodbye, and headed home to shower. The plan was to meet back up in an hour at a cute B&B down in the Marina that we had rented out as the designated “getting ready” place for the girls. After the rehearsal dinner, both of us had spent the night there, but we wanted to shower at our own places because it was just easier.

Once inside my apartment, I walked into my room, threw my clothes into the hamper, and put on my robe and slippers. Then I picked up my phone to see if I had any messages. There was one from Jake:

“Hey, you, I just wanted to say good morning and tell you how much I’m looking forward to seeing you tonight. Enjoy the rest of the day with the girls, and I’ll see you at the ceremony.”

His voice still gave me goose bumps.

I saved the message and jumped in the shower.

At five o’clock, McKenna and I were standing outside the main ballroom of the St. Francis Yacht Club, classical music from the string quartet drifting out into the hall. We were peeking through the curtains to check out all the guests filling the huge room. The scent of hundreds of white roses sweetened the air.

“I can’t believe this day is really here. And I can’t believe how many people are sitting in those pretty white chairs,” I said, staring at everyone’s backs.

“What did you expect with a guest list like that?” McKenna said. “Hey, can you come here for a second and check me out? Am I busting out of this thing too much? Is it too X-rated for a wedding?” She adjusted the top of her strapless black dress and put her hands on her waist.

“You look gorgeous, but I gotta say that your rack is humongous,” I said.

She laughed. “The one perk of breast-feeding.”

Just then Andie walked up behind us. “You ready ladies? It’s time to go.” She smoothed out her black strapless bridesmaid dress.

“Yep, I’m ready,” McKenna said.

I nodded. “Me too.”

McKenna gently touched my cheek. “Waverly, you look beautiful. I think I’m going to cry.”

“Thanks,” I said softly, afraid that I was going to lose it, too.

Andie clapped her hands. “Okay people, let’s get cooking. There’s an open bar waiting at the reception.”

The noise of the crowd inside quieted down, and my dad walked up and put his arms around us. “Ready to go, ladies?” he said. The three of us squeezed hands and nodded.

The quartet briefly stopped playing, and the doors opened. Then the music started again, and one by one my bridesmaids walked down the aisle.

Then it was my turn.

I took a deep breath and looked up at my father next to me.

“Don’t trip,” he said.

“Dad!”

He laughed. “Andie told me to say that.”

I smiled. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you, too, kiddo.”

I took another deep breath and intertwined my arm in his. I felt slightly dizzy, as if everything were in slow motion. The guests stood up, and I was vaguely aware of three hundred pairs of eyes smiling at me. Andie and McKenna, Davey and Lindsay, Kent and his wife, Beth, Hunter and new baby Justin, Kristina and groomsman Shane, Cynthia and Dale, Scotty and Tad, even Brad Cantor and Mandy Edwards (I know, I’m a sap, but they do make a cute couple).

It was really happening, and all my loved ones were there to enjoy it with me.

I took my first step down the aisle and looked straight ahead. All those eyes were focused on me, but the only ones I saw were the bright blue ones belonging to Jake, who was waiting for me at the other end of the aisle.

The End …?

KIDDING. Hello?? Like after all that yapping about being fine on my own and not worrying about what everyone else was doing, I was going to go sprinting down the aisle that fast? Honey, I don’t think so. Give me some credit!

Here’s what really happened after our walk that day:

At five o’clock, McKenna and I were standing together before the ceremony, but she was the one in the wedding dress. I did wear my hair up in a high curly bun though. We were at the Tiburon Golf Club in Marin looking out the window at the lush green hills and waterfalls surrounding the links. There were about two hundred guests seated in sparkling white chairs, all of them waiting to watch McKenna and Hunter tie the knot. The balmy weather was a perfect seventy-two degrees.

The outdoor ceremony was simple and touching. McKenna and Hunter had written their own vows over pancakes at IHOP one Sunday morning, and they managed to combine romance with humor in a way that had all the guests laughing yet tearing up at the same time. I was way weepy.

Jake was my date. We’d been seeing each other for just a couple weeks, and a few days after the wedding I was still going on my very first vacation by myself, but we were getting along just great. Time would tell what would happen in the future, but it had been amazing so far, and I was certainly enjoying every minute. That’s what it’s all about, right?

Shane and Kristina came to the wedding. We’d all gone dancing after my singles auction date, and to make McKenna’s bachelorette party complete, we’d even gone to a male strip club. We’d begged Shane to get up on stage to join the dancers, but he was too afraid his photo would end up all over the Internet. You know you’re really famous when you can’t get drunk and act like an idiot in front of total strangers anymore.

I think Hunter was more nervous about meeting Shane than about committing himself for the rest of his life to another person. And when word got out at the hospital that Shane was attending the wedding, Hunter’s friends were tempted to scalp their invitations to pay off their med school loans. Men!

When it was time for dinner, I took my seat next to McKenna at the bridal party table. The white-rose centerpiece was purposely just a few inches high, so our views weren’t impaired.

She took a sip of champagne and leaned over to me. “Can you believe I’m married?” she whispered.

I put my hand on her shoulder. “Congratulations, HONEY, you did it!”

“Honey, help me.” She laughed and shook her head.

Just then, Hunter came up behind us and put his hands on McKenna’s bare shoulders.

“What are you two ladies whispering about?”

“Just how lucky I am, sweetie.” She took his hands and pulled his arms around her.

“Liar.” He laughed and sat down next to her.

Dinner, as they say, was served. The salmon was delicious, and those who opted for the prime rib were equally impressed. The wine McKenna and I had chosen to accompany dinner was apparently a hit, but then again, who’s going to turn down free wine?

The only real glitch in the evening was the cake. Or, more specifically, the cake cutting, because I was in the ladies’ room at the time. Oops. But at least I didn’t get locked in the stall. And then came the dancing. For the cocktail hour and dinner we’d hired a string quartet, but for dancing we’d picked a DJ who specialized in, of course, ’80s tunes. A few songs into his first set, he put on “Bizarre Love Triangle” by New Order.

“Oh my God, this is the best dance song EVER!” I jumped up from our table and looked at Jake. “Ready to bust a move?”

He laughed. “Did you just say
Bust a move
?”

I nodded. “Oh, yes, I did.”

He stood up and put his arm around me. “I’m not sure I want to see this.”

McKenna and Hunter were already on the dance floor, boogying down with Andie. They spotted me and waved at me to come join them. I trotted over and zigzagged my way through the crowd. But I stepped on something slippery just before I reached them, and I suddenly felt the all-too-familiar feeling of losing my balance.

“Oh cra—,” I started to yell, falling backward, bracing myself.

But the crash never came.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” Jake scooped me up in his arms and gently set me back down on my feet.

I put my arms around him and looked up at his eyes.

Those beautiful blue eyes.

I smiled. “Yes, you do, Jake McIntyre. Yes, you do.”

After the song was over, we starting walking back toward our table so I could have some more cake. But then the DJ began to play “Who’s Crying Now?” by Journey.

I looked at Jake.

Jake looked at me.

“Well?” he said.

“Well what?” I titled my head to one side and smiled.

“If I ask you to dance to this song again, are you going to run away?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“You promise?”

I nodded slowly and kept smiling at him. “I promise.”

We turned back to the dance floor, and he put his hand on the small of my back. Once again, his touch nearly burned a hole right through me. He led me through the crowd and gently put his arms around me.

He looked down at me as we swayed to the music. “Thanks for asking me to be your date tonight, Waverly Bryson.”

I smiled up at him. “Thank you for accepting, Jake McIntyre.”

He smiled back and squeezed me tight.

“Hey, Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“Is
melty
a word?”

“What?”

“I was just wondering, you know, because I’ve noticed that—”

“Waverly?” he said.

“What?”

“Shut up and just dance with me, okay?”

I grinned. “Okay.”

He squeezed me tighter, and I closed my eyes.

And this time the only dizziness I felt was the sensation of leaving the past behind and falling head over heels into the future.