by Ellie Cahill
“You don’t want to be a stepdaddy?”
“No.” His expression was uncharacteristically serious. “I don’t want to be anyone’s daddy right now. I’m twenty-four. I sure as hell don’t want to be stepfather to a ten year old!”
“Hmm. Sounds like maybe you’re just not open to all of life’s rich experiences. Maybe you’d be a great stepdad.”
“Hadley, please?”
His simple plea was too honest to continue with my teasing.
“What exactly would you expect me to do?”
“Just come to the wedding. Be my date.” He hesitated. “Maybe help me give the impression that I’m not available.”
I squinted at him with my lips twisted in consideration, stretching the silence out long enough to make him squirm just a little. “If I’m not busy.”
“Really?” his relief was obvious.
“I’ll check my calendar.”
“Thank you.”
We exchanged phone numbers so I could text him a final answer after I went through the fake process of checking my calendar. I knew I’d do it. There was both a slight sense of obligation to him for sparing me the full Dan treatment tonight, and a sense of curiosity. I didn’t know who this Trent person was, and I couldn’t resist the opportunity to see what Will was like outside of his family and our childhood.
7
I Want to Hold Your Hand
I waited until Monday to text Will with my answer.
Me: I’ve got a dog sitting gig for the weekend, but I can go to the wedding with you.
Will: Thank you! I’ll send you the details.
Shortly after, a photo followed. It was the invitation, and I read all the information. This was going to be another full day commitment. The ceremony was in the early afternoon, with one of those awkward breaks between ceremony and reception while the wedding party runs off to get their pictures taken, and guests are left to find something to do in formal wear. Luckily, it was a local wedding.
I replied: Got it. I’ll have to go back to the house where I’m sitting to let the dogs out between ceremony and reception, though.
Will: No problem. Whatever you need. Thank you.
That was all we said to each other until Thursday, when I realized we needed to work out some more details.
Me: Do you want me to meet you at the wedding?
Will: I can pick you up at the place you’re staying.
Me: Ok.
I sent him the address, and we didn’t message again until Friday. It was late in the evening, and I’d just come in from walking Bella for the second time. She was an easy-going dog who normally just went for one walk a day with me, but since I was staying in her house, I felt like giving her some extra attention.
While the golden retriever slurped down a bowl of water, I leaned against the refrigerator and thought about my plan for the next day. I’d walk Bella in the morning, get ready for the wedding, go to the ceremony, come back and take her out again, give her an early dinner, and go to the reception with Will. It would all be okay. She’d only be alone for a few extra hours. The Quincys didn’t expect me to spend every second with her. It would be fine.
The getting ready for the wedding part was the only other question mark in this situation. I had to send another message.
Me: Is this a formal wedding? How am I supposed to dress?
Will: I don’t know. Whatever you want.
Me: <7 eye rolling emojis> Not helpful. What are you going to wear?
Will: My suit.
Okay, at least that was something. It was so much easier for guys. A suit worked for every occasion. But at least with Will I knew it meant he was planning to be dressed up. Because his usual default was work boots, stained jeans, and a Brady Construction t-shirt. And if he was planning to wear that to the wedding, it was a wedding I was very likely going to regret attending.
I’d brought five dresses with me to the Quincy’s house. Not normal dog-sitting attire. But I needed options.
In the morning, Bella and I went for a particularly long walk. The golden was a classic example of her breed: she was not only up for anything, she was thrilled about it. Even when we’d walked so far her tongue was hanging out and she was panting like a little train engine. She would have walked until she dropped dead if I asked her to. Sweet girl.
Of course I took her home instead and gave her as much water as she wanted, and I let her lick out my yogurt container when I was done with it. Bella approved.
After a fashion show for an audience of myself and one dog who liked everything equally, I settled on the classic: a little black dress. Can’t go wrong with that, right? I figured it was my best bet for fitting in no matter what the rest of the wedding guests were wearing. I was ready a full half-hour before I needed to be.
I was weirdly nervous, though I had no idea why. It was just another wedding. One where I didn’t know anyone, which should have taken the pressure off completely. No one was going to know or care that I lived with my parents, or that I had a degree in graphic design but spent my days and nights with dogs instead of putting my skills to any use. No one even had to know my last name. No one knew me as the flat-chested, freckle-faced, awkward teenager. I was just a +1.
So why was my stomach full of butterflies?
I tried listening to the latest episode of one of my favorite True Crime podcasts, but I couldn’t concentrate and I just hit pause. I scrolled through Facebook, and posted a cute picture of Bella on my Instagram feed.
Finally I heard the throaty rumble and rattle of a large, old vehicle coming down the street. I stood at the window and watched the RV come rolling in my direction.
He had to be joking. The RV? He was actually driving the RV?
We were going to a wedding in an RV?
The beastly thing shuddered to a stop and Will hopped out. As promised, he was wearing his suit. His only suit, apparently, because it was definitely the same one he’d worn to Maddie’s wedding the week before. His shirt was white—same as last week—and I could only hope it was either a different white shirt, or at least it had been washed. He had on a gray tie, which I didn’t think was the same as the last one. Yay effort.
Despite the face that he looked much the same as last time, I had to admit, he cleaned up well. Of course anything was an improvement over the mud-covered monster he’d been when he scared the crap out of me at his parents’ house, but it was more than just a shower. It was clear he wasn’t the sort of guy who belonged in a suit. He had the broad shoulders of someone who did physical work for a living. And he wore his facial hair in a short, all-over scruff. A little more than unshaven, but not quite a beard. But the tightly clipped sides of his short haircut told me he did pay attention to grooming. So the scruff had to be a choice. It gave him a rugged look, which I had to admit was a good fit for him. In the suit, he looked handsome, and maybe a little dangerous. Like Indiana Jones at a museum gala.
I met him at the front door.
So did Bella.
I snatched her by the collar just in time to prevent her from jumping on him. He didn’t need long, blond dog hairs all over his only suit.
“Hey!” he said, his tone clearly indicating he was greeting the dog, not me. He bent down to ruffle her ears and run his fingers through the fluffy hairs on her throat and chest. She responded by flopping down on her back and exposing her entire belly shamelessly.
“Oh, Bella,” I chided. “Have some dignity.”
“She just wants her belly rubbed.” Will obliged by squatting down and giving the golden an enthusiastic belly rub, while she wiggled and tried to lick his hands in gratitude.
“So, do you think this is okay?” I asked, gesturing to my lace cocktail dress.
Will looked up from his dog ministrations and took in my outfit. “Yeah, you look fine.”
Oh please, I thought sarcastically, don’t go on like that. You’ll embarrass me.
“You weren’t seriously planning to show up at a church in an RV were you?�
�� I asked.
He looked up again. “It’s the only car I have.”
I shook my head. “We’ll take mine.”
“Nah, it’s fine.”
“I’m not going to a wedding in an RV.”
“Snob.”
“If by snob you mean, functioning member of society who knows you don’t take an RV to a church, then yes, I’m a snob.”
Will abandoned Bella’s belly to rise to his feet with a sigh. “Fine. But I’ll drive.”
“No. It’s my car.”
“I know where we’re going.”
“So do I. It’s St. Mark’s church.”
Will looked over my head, obviously trying to stay calm. “Do you mind if I drive?”
“Yes. Don’t be a chauvinist pig.” I took Bella by the collar once more and lured her inside with promises of treats. Once I had the golden occupied, I went back outside, locking the door and double-checking that it was secured before I could be satisfied.
“Didn’t the Reeses used to live here?” Will asked, now looking up at the house.
“Yeah.” There had been a lot of turnover in the neighborhood since we were all kids together. Will was gone in California for the four years of college, so he’d missed some of the comings and goings.
“Must be weird being in the same houses but with new people, huh?”
“Kind of. You can see for yourself, if you come with me to let Bella out later.” I unlocked the car and slid into the driver’s seat. Will had to fold himself up quite a bit to fit in the passenger side. I had the seat moved forward to accommodate a larger dog in the backseat, and his knees were practically at his chin. I couldn’t hide my smile as I watched him search for the seat controls and get himself into a workable position.
“You good?” I asked when he seemed settled.
“Small cars suck.”
“Yes, well, not all of us choose to live like hobos and carry all our worldly possessions everywhere we go.”
“I prefer to think of myself as a turtle.”
I was glad I’d looked at the route to the church before Will arrived, because I was now determined to make it there without asking for a single hint, or checking my GPS. No way would I give him the satisfaction of even thinking he should have driven.
Along the way, I asked how he’d ended up invited to this wedding and learned that Trent was one of the guys on his construction crew. Trent was a little older than us, and his fiancée was named Amber. The sister Amber wanted to set up with Will was her younger sister, though she was still older than Will, and her name was Shelby.
“So why does she want Shelby to be with you?” I asked.
“She thinks Shelby needs a nice guy.”
“You’re not nice,” I said.
He did a fake gasp and put a hand on his chest. “I am extremely nice, Hadley Bradley.”
I took my eyes off the road for a moment to glare at him.
He chuckled quietly. “Also, I don’t think Amber knows many single guys.”
“So it’s more like you’re the last man standing?”
“Basically.”
“Got it.”
The drive to the church was short, and soon I found myself rolling slowly through a crowded parking lot. It was a typical Texas situation: pick-up trucks as far as the eye could see. It could be dangerous driving a little car around these parts. When my Kia Rio was tucked between two Super Duty Extended Cabs, it looked like an empty space. If I had a dollar for every time I saw a truck cruise confidently toward my parking space only to slam on the breaks and back up, I wouldn’t have to work. I finally found a spot way in the back of the lot and didn’t pull all the way in so my rear end had at least a chance of being seen.
Will met me at the back of the car. “Thanks again for doing this.”
“I owed you one, right?”
As we walked toward the church, the back of Will’s hand bumped against my wrist three times. More than just by chance.
“Would it—?” he started, made a frustrated face, then reached down and deliberately took my hand. It was a very business-like grab, and it took us a bit of fumbling to figure out which way our hands were supposed to go. But then our fingers wove together and it felt right. Well no, it felt strange and new and like everyone was going to be staring at us knowing it was all fake, but at least the way our hands fit together was right.
He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze and then we were inside the church. Will told the usher we were there for the groom and held fast to my hand as we were escorted to an empty pew.
I didn’t grow up particularly religious, especially by Texas standards, but there was something unnerving about holding hands with Will Brady under false pretenses in front of God. I expected him to let go now that we were seated, but he didn’t. Had he forgotten we were even holding hands? I chanced a look at him, but all I got in return was a distracted smile.
Well okay then. Holding hands with Will Brady in a church. That was my new job. I wondered how many more items I’d add to my resume as the designated + 1 by the end of the night.
8
The Pseudo-Girlfriend Experience
The hand-holding continued through the entire ceremony and then as we stood in one of the slowest moving receiving lines I’ve ever seen. Or maybe it was moving at a regular pace and I was just stuck in a bend in space-time caused by the gravity of Will’s hand holding mine.
But I kept a smile on my face as we made our way through a line of complete strangers. I complimented the maid of honor on her dress, congratulated the parents of the bride and groom, and finally got introduced to the stars of the show.
“Congrats, man,” Will said, offering his free right hand to Trent. “You did it.”
“We did,” Trent grinned. His gaze shifted none-too-subtly to me. “Is this…?”
“This is Hadley.” Will released my hand for the first time in what felt like a decade. But it was only so he could put his arm around my shoulders and squeeze me against his side.
“Nice to meet you, Hadley. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“You have?” I couldn’t hide my shock. How was that even possible?
“Only good things,” Trent assured me.
I laughed awkwardly. This was some next level bullshit. Will better have some serious explaining to do.
“Will!” the bride exclaimed, as soon as she was done talking to the person ahead of us in line.
“Amber, you look beautiful,” Will said, leaning in to accept her hug, leaving me standing solo, without contact from him for the first time since the parking lot. I felt as thought I might drift away.
“And this must be your…girlfriend?” Amber sounded uncertain.
“Hi, I’m Hadley.” I stuck my hand out as if to shake hers, but she leaned into give me an awkward half-hug.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” she said. “We were so surprised when Will told us he was bringing someone after all.”
“I hope I didn’t mess up your seating arrangement.” I laughed nervously. If Will had screwed up this couple’s whole reception plan at the last minute because he didn’t want to get set up with a single mom, I was going to kill him.
“Not at all.” Amber smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, and I knew she’d lied. It was a lie born of politeness, but I still felt terrible.
“Well, thank you for fitting me in.” I tried to look humble, but I was never sure what that was actually supposed to look like. I usually just went for Bambi eyes and a little smile. “Oh, and congratulations. It was a beautiful ceremony.”
In truth, I had no idea if it was a beautiful ceremony. I’d been hyper focused on Will holding my hand the entire time. We might have been at a funeral for all I knew.
Finally, we were done and left to wander among the other guests who were at loose ends. This is the worst part of the wedding ceremony. You can never tell if you’re supposed to stick around for some kind of send-off for the bride and groom, or if they’re going to disappear into the ch
urch for photos and you just wander away. Will some leadership-minded guest declare a nearby bar as a meeting place for everyone to wait out the empty gap until cocktail hour? Will you miss out on some plans if you leave too quickly?
Note to brides and grooms everywhere: Please either do your pictures before the ceremony, or assign someone to set up an event for the guests while you do. Because we are all lost. All of us. You’ve booked us for the day, and now we have nothing to do and nowhere to go in our formal wear. Help us.
Today at least, I had somewhere to be.
“We gotta go see to Bella,” I told Will.
He didn’t protest. This was the only stipulation I’d put on our agreement to go to this wedding together.
My feet were already starting to hurt, and I was happy to slip my shoes off when we got back in the car.
“So, do you think it worked?” I asked as I backed out of the parking space.
“I hope so.”
I found my way back to the Quincys’ house and pulled up behind the RV in the street.
“Could you park that monster in the driveway?” I asked.
“You know you’re awfully mean about my car.”
“That’s not a car. It’s enormous and it’s parked on a residential street and the neighbors probably think you’re robbing the house.”
Will gave me a serious case of side-eye, but he got out of my car and headed for the RV without further comment. Once the engine roared to life, he managed to guide the beast into the Quincys’ driveway. A fairly impressive feat considering there were no air traffic controllers around to help.
He didn’t emerge for a long time. Long enough that I was starting to wonder if he was coming out at all, or if he planned to hide inside his turtle house until the reception started. Finally my curiosity got the better of me and I knocked on the side door.
He opened it, his suit and tie now completely gone. He was wearing a t-shirt and shorts with sneakers on his feet.
I blinked in surprise. “You’re like a reverse Superman.”