Authors: Hailey Abbott
The bride-to-be is a recent summa cum laude graduate of Harvard University, where she majored in environmental science and public policy. She will not be immediately pursuing a career in this field, however, opting for a summer off to immerse herself in the Culture of the Bride and thereby shave at least fifty points off her IQ.
The groom-to-be is a graduate of the University of Colorado and has just received his EdM degree at Harvard. Strangely, all other pertinent facts about the groom are as yet unknown, even to the bride’s family, who we’d think would at least be clued in to his middle name and medical history before Carol tied herself to him for all eternity.
An August wedding is planned, after which the couple will reside just outside Denver, which is exactly 1970.07 miles from Boston.
• 4 •
Here Comes the Groom
Abby sat in her room, trying to read the list of topics she had to study for her history final, but she couldn’t concentrate. In ten minutes or less, Abby was going to meet the enemy. The guy who had lobotomized her sister. Tucker Robb.
It had been two weeks since her sister’s big announcement, and the wedding planning was zooming at full-speed ahead. Amazingly the Dove’s Roost had had a cancellation, and Mrs. Beaumont had immediately slotted Carol and Tucker’s wedding into the available prime slot. Carol had already hired their parents’ favorite band, Twilight, and secured a justice of the peace to do the ceremony. Her parents had even laid out deposits! And now Tucker was on his way to the Dove’s Roost, where he was going to be staying for the next month—all the way up to the day of the wedding. Abby hated to admit it, but it looked as if this thing was actually going to happen.
Abby had been doing everything she could to think about the wedding as little as possible. And that meant being at home as little as possible. She’d picked up extra shifts at the store, spent hours at the library studying for finals and hid out at Delila’s house whenever she could. Last Saturday afternoon while Carol and her parents had interviewed photographers, Abby had snuck over to her best friend’s house, where Delila had spent three hours perfecting Abby’s mother’s signature, then forged it perfectly on the application for Student XChange. Once that and the financial aid package were sealed, Abby and Delila had kissed both envelopes and said a little prayer over Delila’s mailbox before tossing them in.
Which meant Abby was doing two things— excitedly looking forward to getting the response to her application. And dreading the arrival of Tucker.
Suddenly Abby heard the crunch of the gravel at the bottom of the driveway. She looked out her window to find a black Ram pickup truck rolling toward the fountain that centered the circular drive. God! The guy even drove a gas-guzzler. Was Carol under some kind of mind control? The front door slammed and Carol flew over to the driver’s-side door, yanking it open before the truck even stopped moving.
“Puke on a stick,” Abby said under her breath.
Then came her very first view of Tucker Robb, the man who would be her brother-in-law. He stepped out of the truck and wrapped her sister up in a hug, taking her off her feet. He wore pressed khakis, a green plaid shirt and work boots. His blond hair was shaggy on top and short on the sides and from where Abby stood he appeared to have the chiseled features of a movie star. Not surprising. Carol had always dated pretty boys.
After a long kiss, Carol dragged Tucker inside by the hand and the door slammed again.
“Mom! Dad! Come meet your future son-in-law!” Carol called in a singsongy voice.
“Ugh. Puke on a stick with mustard,” Abby said, slumping back in her chair.
Almost instantly the muffled, excited voices of her mother and father sounded from the foyer. She could hear Tucker’s voice—a baritone—and his throaty laugh. In fact he was laughing
way
too much. Either he was nervous or a total suck-up. “Abby!” Carol shouted up the steps. “Tucker’s here.”
Abby forced herself off her bed. What exactly was the point of all this? There was no way she was ever gonna like the guy who was making her sister move clear across the country.
She clomped down the stairs, arms crossed over her chest, and stopped a few feet up from the happy family unit that was gathered below. Tucker looked up at her and smiled, flashing pearly whites.
Wow, he was
really
hot. There had to be something wrong with him.
“Hey, Ab,” Tucker said. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Carol talks about you 24/7.”
“Hi,” Abby said, walking down the last few stairs.
So here he was. This was him. The guy who was taking Carol off to live with five dozen future sides of beef in a state she’d never been to. Abby leaned her side into the banister and wondered how long she had to stand here before she could retreat to her room again.
She imagined Carol’s voice inside her head.
You’re
being a brat,
she would say. Abby knew it was true, but she couldn’t seem to make this heavy feeling in her chest go away.
“So . . . ,” Abby said, feeling like she had to say something.
Suddenly Tucker grabbed her up in a tight bear hug. Abby let out a surprised squeak as he pinned her to him. Her lower arms flailed out at her sides helplessly.
Invasion of personal space! Abort! Abort!
“This is so cool! I’ve never had a kid sister!” Tucker said. He smelled all musky and guylike. Abby would know, what with her nose mashed against his shoulder.
“Can you let go of me now?” Abby asked.
Tucker relented and stepped back. “Sorry. Guess I got a little carried away.”
A little?
Abby thought, her face burning.
“We should have warned you, Tucker. Abby isn’t the touchy-feely type,” Abby’s mother said, an amused smile playing about her lips.
“Oh, right,” Tucker said with a laugh. “You did say that, Carol, huh? Sorry.”
“You’ll have to get used to Tucker hugs,” Carol said, looping her arm through his. “He
is
part of the family now.”
Abby swallowed hard. Now they were all looking at her with amused, patronizing smiles. She couldn’t believe this. The four of them, standing there together, looking at her like she was the outsider and they were the family.
“So, I hear you’re a talented little soccer player,” Tucker said brightly, as if oblivious to her cold-as-ice body language. “We can kick the ball around later if you want. I could show you a few pointers. . . .”
Who said I need pointers?
Abby fumed. And was it just her, or was he treating her like a five-year-old? Who did this guy think he was?
The guy who’s marrying your sister,
a little voice in her head warned her.
Chill before you say something
stupid.
“Tucker played for the Colorado soccer team,” Carol said, casually resting her free hand on his chest.
Suddenly Abby felt even smaller and more childish than she did before. She’d never touched a guy like that. She couldn’t even imagine feeling that comfortable around a guy. Well, except for Christopher and that was a just-a-friend kind of comfortable.
“Actually, I have to work this afternoon, so—”
“Really? What’s the job?”
“She’s working at a sporting goods store in town,” her father said.
“Dad, I can talk, you know.” Abby’s face was burning.
A tense silence filled the room. Clearly she was bringing the happy-go-lucky, touchy-feely, hug-loving family down.
“So, Tucker, why don’t you come inside? Have some coffee?” Abby’s mother said, reaching for his arm. “I want to get to know the man who’s swept my daughter off her feet.”
“Sounds great,” Tucker said, following her toward the kitchen. Abby’s dad went with them. Carol turned around and shot Abby a wide-eyed look.
“What?”
Abby mouthed.
“I knew you were going to do this,” Carol said. “You decided not to like him before he ever even got here, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t have to!” Abby replied, even though it was true. “He was totally talking down to me. You were all treating me like I was a baby!”
“Well, if you’re going to act like one . . . ,” Carol said.
Abby narrowed her eyes, stung. “Thanks a lot.”
Carol groaned and took off after the others. Abby hesitated a second, then stomped back upstairs. Luckily she had to get ready for work. Thank goodness Noah had given her the idea to come up with an escape plan. These days she needed an out more than ever.
“Abby, would you please help this customer with the cleats?” Barb called out. It was later that day. Abby climbed down from the step stool behind the counter. When she reached the ground she turned to find Christopher smiling down at her.
“Hey!” Abby tucked a stray curl behind her ear. Barb moved off to deal with a mom-and-daughter combo. “What are you doing here?” Abby whispered.
“Like she said, I need some cleats.” Christopher headed for the wall of shoes. “Thought I’d throw my best friend some business. You gotta keep this job if you’re gonna save up for Italy, yo.”
“Well, thanks for your support,” Abby replied. “What do you need?”
Christopher picked out a few pairs and Abby retrieved the shoes from the storage room. She dropped the boxes at his feet and sat down next to him on the vinyl-topped bench, happy to have the chance to take a load off.
“Aren’t you gonna lace them up for me?” Christopher joked.
“Don’t push it,” Abby said.
Christopher extracted the first pair of cleats from the box and went about removing the inserts.
“So, how’s everything with your sister, yo?”
“I met her man this morning,” Abby said, pulling her knees up under her chin. “Can’t stand him.”
“What? Why?” Christopher asked.
“He totally talked down to me. He heard I was a ‘good little soccer player,’” she said, putting on a doofy voice. “And he was acting like—I don’t know— like he was already part of my family—looking at me like he knew
so
much about me.” She glanced down at Christopher’s feet and grimaced. “P.S., those are not attractive.”
“They’re not supposed to be attractive. They’re supposed to be functional,” Christopher said, getting up to give them a test walk. He paused in front of the mirror and looked down at the neon yellow and puke green cleats. “Whoa. Those
are
ugly. So, what else? I mean, is the guy cool on any level?”
“Well, he’s pretty good-looking, but maybe too good-looking, you know?” Abby said.
“No. How can anyone be too good-looking?”
“It’s not that, really,” Abby said, struggling to put her feelings into words. “It was like he was too
on.
His hair was just the right way and his teeth were totally white and he was beyond polite and attentive to my mom. He had my parents laughing, like, all morning. I could hear them from my room.”
“So what, he’s a big suck-up or something?” Christopher asked. He dropped down next to her again and yanked off the cleats. “You think he’s a fake?”
“It’s hard to explain,” Abby said. “I just get a bad vibe from him. Don’t you get a vibe from some people?”
Just then, the door to the shop opened and Noah walked in. Abby’s heart did a little flip, and then a flop. Noah was smiling until his eyes fell on Christopher and Abby.
“Whaddup, Johnny Rockets?” Noah said, lifting his chin in greeting.
Christopher gave Noah the up and down as he worked his foot into another shoe. “You’re the cake boy, right?”
Noah let out a short exhale through his nose and then turned toward Abby. “I was just at your house and met your sister’s fiancé?” He looked very confused.
“Oh, yeah. Carol’s getting married,” Abby said flatly. “Whoo-hoo.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” Noah said. “I mean, I’ve seen you five times since she apparently told you guys.”
“Sorry,” Abby said. “I guess I just assumed you’d already heard.”
“Aren’t you psyched?”
“Yeah,” Abby said flatly. “Totally.”
Abby got up and started pacing. Somehow she’d expected Noah to be as shocked and appalled as she’d been. She was expecting antiwedding solidarity.
“He seemed pretty cool,” Noah said, walking over to her.
“I don’t know . . . he’s all right,” she said unconvincingly. “Like I was just telling Christopher, he just seemed a little
too
perfect. Didn’t you feel it when you met him?”
“Feel what?” Noah asked.
“A vibe. Like he’s trying too hard,” Abby said. “Like maybe he’s trying to cover something up with all this forced perfection.”
She looked up at Noah and he nodded knowingly, then shook his head at her. “What?” she asked. “What’s that look?”
“Sounds to me like you’re looking for reasons not to like the guy,” Noah said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Abby asked, her face growing red.
“That you don’t want to like him, so you’re coming up with reasons not to.”
“Dude, what’s your problem?” Christopher asked, looking from Abby’s stricken face to Noah.
“No problem,” Noah said. “I just . . . I suggest you jump on the bandwagon here, Ab. Your sister’s gonna get married no matter how much you mope and pout and slam doors.”
Abby felt the color rise in her cheeks. “I am not moping and pouting and slamming doors,” she lied. How did he
know
that?
“Hey, I know how you feel about Carol,” Noah said. “I’m surprised you’ve lasted through her entire college career. You can’t stand it when she’s away, so of course you’re gonna hate the guy who’s whisking her off to the Rockies.”
“Oh, please.” Abby felt her face getting even hotter.
“Come on, Abby, you know exactly what I’m talking about,” Noah said with an amused smile. “Remember when she went away to summer camp when you were twelve and left you behind? You spent the first two weeks of the summer whining and sulking. And making the lives of everyone around you miserable.”
“That was, like, sixth grade, yo,” Christopher said.
“Well, she did it again when Carol was a freshman and every September since then,” Noah said.