“Well, I just hope your brother knows,” my dad said, shaking his head, “that we expect him to be a part of this family. And he can’t just—”
The kitchen door swung open again, causing the alarm system to issue a single, brief beep, and Will stuck his head in the room. “Jeffrey,” he started. He must have taken in everyone else’s expressions because then he said, “Uh—is everything okay?”
“It’s fine,” my dad said briskly. “Did you need something?”
“Just wanted you to okay the final placement,” Will said, gesturing to the backyard. “Linnie said you were particular about a few plantings. . . .”
“She’s right about that,” my dad said. “I’ll be right out.” Will nodded and went back to the yard, closing the door behind him. My dad sighed and looked at my sister. “You realize this is my last chance to win the garden competition at this house?”
“You realize this is my only time getting married?”
“Well,” J.J. said, clearing his throat. “I mean, statistically, that’s probably not true.”
“I don’t think it’s a great idea to talk about marriage statistics the day before a wedding,” my mother said, shooting J.J. a look.
“I don’t think it’s a great idea to ever talk about statistics,” I added. For years, J.J. labored under the belief that the rest of us were just as interested in hearing about statistics as he was in telling us about them. His favorite joke when he was younger, until we declared a moratorium on it, was “Did you know ninety-eight percent of all statistics are made up on the spot?”
“The data doesn’t change depending on what day it is or is not,” J.J. said, sounding offended by the very notion of this. “And the fact is, half of marriages end in divorce.”
“Well, what about Mom and Dad?” I asked, gesturing to them.
“I think Mom and Dad are outliers,” J.J. said with a shrug.
My dad headed for the door. “I should go say good-bye to my flowers.”
“I’ll come too,” my mom said. My dad held the door open for her, and as they stepped outside, before the door closed behind them, I heard my dad ask, “Are you okay?”
I could hear my siblings talking—J.J. was apparently exchanging texts with some girl he’d met online, who wanted to come to the wedding but might also be a felon—but it was like it was all happening underwater, or in another room. My thoughts had gone right back to Jesse, and what he was going to do, and what I should be doing. What if he was waiting to hear from me right now and thought it was strange I hadn’t reached out yet? Should I text him? But then, what if Mike saw the text and started asking questions? Maybe I should just text him something benign, like hey.
“Charlie!” I looked over and saw that everyone in the kitchen was staring at me.
“Um.” I blinked, trying to focus, trying to pull my thoughts away from Jesse Foster. “What was that?”
“I asked if you’d heard from Bill,” Linnie said. “Is everything okay at the Inn?”
“Is Billiam not pulling his weight?” J.J. asked, tsking. “It wouldn’t surprise me. I thought he looked shifty.”
“His name’s not Billiam,” Rodney pointed out. J.J. waved this small detail away.
“Right,” I said, looking down at my phone. “Um . . .” The truth was, I hadn’t thought about Bill or the decorations at all. “I think he’s got it under control.” I hoped I sounded more confident than I felt. “I haven’t heard otherwise.”
“Okay,” J.J. said, holding up his phone. “I got more details. She was arrested but never actually served time. It was just a Mardi Gras–related offense that I’m very interested to know more about.”
“No felons,” Rodney said.
“I’ll check in with Bill now, and—” My phone buzzed with a text.
Danny
Hey. I’m here.
I felt my heart leap in my chest as I looked down at my message. My big brother—my favorite person—was back.
“Danny’s here,” I said, feeling a smile start to take over my face as I ran toward the kitchen door. I didn’t wait for a response, just pushed my way through it, and ran across the deck, past the garage, and toward the driveway.
There was a luxury SUV parked behind my car, and Danny was climbing out of the driver’s seat. He grinned when he saw me. “Hiya, Chuck.”
“Hey!” I ran toward him, and he pulled me into a bear hug that lifted my feet off the ground. I hadn’t seen my brother in two months, but he looked the same—same dark hair sweeping over his forehead, same tan, like he lived in Southern California, and not Northern, same crinkles in the corners of his blue eyes. He set me back on my feet and smiled down at me from his height of six three.
“Come on,” I said, pulling him toward the house. “How was your flight? We have so much to catch up on—”
“Wait a sec, Charlie,” Danny said, laughing. “There’s actually—I should—”
“Oh, right,” I said, remembering. “So, what’s your surprise?” I looked around. “Did you bring me a Double-Double after all?”
Before he could answer, the passenger-side door opened and a girl got out. She looked around Linnie’s age. She was tall and blond, wearing what had to be four-inch heels, and she was smiling at me.
“Charlie, I’d like you to meet Brooke Abernathy,” Danny said, then took a breath. “My girlfriend.”
CHAPTER 8
Or, Double-Double, Toil and Trouble
* * *
THE SECOND WE STEPPED INSIDE the kitchen, the alarm went off again.
“What’s the code?” Rodney yelled, running over to the panel, which was flashing with red and orange lights.
“Twelve thirty-four,” I yelled, and Rodney nodded. He punched in the numbers, but nothing happened for a few seconds—and then the alarm shut off suddenly.
“Seriously?” J.J. yelled, then seemed to realize a second later than he no longer needed to yell. “That’s really the alarm code?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Why?”
“There’s the bride,” Danny said with a smile as he crossed to Linnie and gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “You’re radiant. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to say to brides? Glowing?”
“Only if it’s true,” she said, whacking him on his arm.
“Jameison,” Danny said, continuing across the kitchen.
“Sheridan,” J.J. said, as he smiled at Danny and gestured to his outfit—button-down, dark pants, blazer. “So I take it you took one of those airplanes with a dress code?”
“What?” Danny straightened his cuffs. “People used to get dressed up all the time to fly. It’s a lost art.” He hugged J.J., then Rodney, and as Danny made his way around the room, I glanced quickly over at Brooke, who was still standing in the doorway.
By the car, I’d only gotten a cursory impression of her, so I used this opportunity to take a closer look. She was strikingly pretty—all Danny’s girlfriends were—and thin, with hair that fell over her shoulders in soft curls. She was wearing a sleeveless tight-fitting floral-print dress that ended at her knees, with a cardigan over it. But for some reason, she hadn’t put her arms through her sweater—instead, it was placed over her shoulders, like she was combating some weird temperature affliction, where her shoulders were cold but her arms were hot. She was tall even without the four-inch stilettos, so she looked like she was almost close to Danny’s height with them. I could see, as she looked around the kitchen, a smile on her face, that she had sharp cheekbones and bright-blue eyes with black eyeliner that winged out from each eye in a tiny, precise point. As she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, I noticed she had on diamond studs, each one looking bigger than the stone in my sister’s engagement ring.
Linnie looked from Danny to Brooke and back again, widening her eyes at him. I saw that J.J. and Rodney were also staring at Brooke, like they were waiting for some explanation as to who, exactly, this person was. “Are you going to introduce us?”
“Whoops,” Danny said with a
quick, crooked smile. “Sorry—we’ve been on an airplane for too long. This is—”
“Oh, let me do it,” Brooke said, stepping forward and clapping her hands together as she smiled brightly. “I’ve heard so much about everyone, I bet I can. Linnie, Rodney,” she said, pointing as she went around clockwise, “J.J. and Charlie.”
“Nicely done,” Danny said, giving her a smile as he walked over to the fridge.
“And you are . . . ?” Linnie asked, after a pause.
“I’m Brooke,” she said with a laugh, like this should have been obvious.
“Are you Danny’s assistant?” J.J. asked, going to join Danny by the fridge. “He promised he wasn’t going to do that anymore.”
“You did promise,” Rodney agreed.
Two years ago, during Mike’s graduation, Danny had been in the middle of some huge deal with one of the start-ups his venture capital firm had funded. Mike had told him he didn’t have to come for it, but Danny had insisted—and had showed up with his assistant, a really nice guy named Vikram. My mother had put Vikram up in one of the guest rooms, but had not been happy about the fact that Danny had basically spent the whole weekend working, and had dragged his assistant across the country to do it, and before he’d left, she’d made Danny promise not to do it again.
“What?” Brooke asked. Her smile faltered as she blinked at J.J. “No—I’m Danny’s girlfriend.” All my siblings just stared at her, and I took a little bit of comfort in the fact that they were having the same reaction I’d had—that it wasn’t like everyone had known about her except me.
It wasn’t that it was unusual for Danny to have a girlfriend. Both in the world of GCS, and from the stories I’d heard, there had been girls interested in Danny from middle school onward. But he’d never been serious about anyone. He was usually dating someone, and he was always really excited about whoever it was—these Madisons and Katies and Jessicas and Ashleys. They were always super awesome, super smart, and he couldn’t wait for us to meet them. And then the next time it would come up, he would be dating someone new, and would be equally enthusiastic about her. But he’d never once brought anyone home—which, frankly, I hadn’t minded. I didn’t get to see Danny as much since he moved to California, and I was happy not to have to share his time with anyone.
“Danny,” Brooke said, turning to him. It looked like she was blinking a little faster than most people did. “Did you—did you not tell your family . . . ?”
The sentence just hung in the air for a moment until Linnie jumped in. “Oh, Brooke,” she said, snapping her fingers. “Right, of course. Of course Danny mentioned you.”
“Totally,” Rodney agreed, a little too quickly.
“Many times,” J.J. said, nodding. “Many, many times.” Then after a pause, he added, “Not like a weird amount of times. Just the normal amount.”
Brooke nodded, but I noticed her smile now looked a little forced. “Well—it’s so nice to meet you all.”
“So, I was thinking we would take the blue guest room,” Danny said, pulling a veggie tray out of the fridge, along with a can of Coke. “I didn’t think Brooke would appreciate sharing a room with J.J.”
I blinked at my brother for a second. Why had I not put this together the second Brooke had shown up? Danny wouldn’t have brought his girlfriend all the way from California to say hi and then leave again. But it was like I was watching what I’d hoped this weekend would be—me, my siblings, hanging-out time in between wedding stuff—get farther and farther away, like a mirage in the desert.
“So you’re staying the weekend,” Linnie said, giving Brooke a very fixed smile, in between staring daggers at Danny. “You’re . . . coming to the wedding?”
Brooke’s head whipped over to Danny. “You didn’t—”
“I told you I was bringing a date,” Danny said, as Linnie and Rodney both shook their heads.
“Wait, this is perfect,” J.J. said. “She can take the spot my date was going to have. I hope you like steak, Brooke.”
“What date?” Danny asked.
“Exactly,” I said.
“So now that your guest count isn’t going to be off,” J.J. said, “maybe we, um, just end the bet?”
“Great idea,” I said quickly, really not wanting my brother to invite a felon to the wedding. “Forfeit?”
“Forfeit agreed,” J.J. said. He pointed to me and Rodney. “Forfeit accepted?”
“Accepted,” we said in unison.
“Not that I couldn’t have gotten a date,” J.J. said, and I noticed that under his usual bravado, he looked very relieved. “But this way, I can concentrate on enjoying your wedding.”
“So!” Danny said, leaning back against the counter and cracking open his can of soda. I noticed Brooke was still standing in the spot where she’d first come into the room, shifting her weight on her high heels back and forth from foot to foot. “Tell me things! What’s been going on?”
“Well,” I said, raising an eyebrow at Danny. “You might need to get a refund on your wedding planner.”
“What happened to Clementine?”
“She skipped town,” Linnie said.
“Embezzlement,” J.J. added.
“What?” Danny asked, looking around at all of us. “Is this a joke?”
“Nope,” I said, pushing myself up to sit on the counter. “We found out this morning, and—”
“Who’s Clementine?” I looked back to see Brooke still standing in the doorway, smiling as she asked this. I glanced over at her, annoyed. Because this—us—all of us together, joking around and talking, it was what I’d been looking forward to for months. And it was getting derailed by this girl in our kitchen, the one who shouldn’t have been there and was only getting in the way.
“She’s the wedding planner,” I said shortly, then turned back to my siblings. “Guys, should we have a General Grant Meeting at some point this weekend?”
“I thought all five of us had to be here for a GGM,” Danny said, taking another drink of his soda.
“The wedding planner quit?” Brooke asked, but J.J. was already talking over her.
“All five of us are here,” he said. “Mike’s back. He came for the wedding.”
“Really.” Danny glanced at Linnie, who nodded. “How’s that been going?” Then he looked around, like he was just now noticing Mike wasn’t in the kitchen. “Wait, where is he?”
“Staying at Jesse Foster’s,” Rodney responded.
Danny’s eyebrows flew up. “And how’d that go over?”
“Not great,” J.J. and I said in unison.
“I bet,” Danny said with a short laugh. “Jeez. Remember that one time—”
“Mike’s here?” Brooke asked brightly, and we all turned to look at her. “I’m glad I’m going to get to meet him. I wasn’t sure, because Danny said he wasn’t coming, because there was a . . .” Her voice trailed off, and her cheeks turned pink. “I mean,” she said, speaking more quickly now. “Just that Mike and your mother—”
“Did I hear the alarm again?” my dad asked, pushing through the kitchen door that Brooke had left ajar. He stopped and smiled when he saw Danny and pulled him into a hug. “Our firstborn! When did you get here? Good trip?” He must have noticed Brooke then, because he took a step back, and his eyebrows flew up.
“Oh—hello,” he said. “Are you Clementine? Did you change your mind and come back to us?”
“No,” Brooke said, her voice rising slightly. “I’m—”
“This is my girlfriend,” Danny said smoothly, widening his eyes slightly at my dad. “Brooke. I told you about her.”
There was only a tiny beat before my dad said, a little too heartily, “Of course, of course. Welcome. I’m Jeffrey Grant. Very nice to meet you. I think Danny told us you have a business selling cookies online.”
“What?” Brooke frowned, and looked at Danny. “I—no.”
“She doesn’t,” Danny said, looking hard at my dad, clearly trying to tell him to shut up.
“No, you told me,” my dad said, missing this as he wandered over to the counter and helped himself to some celery sticks from the veggie tray. “I was so impressed—it was that app? All about how people can get fresh cookies delivered whenever they want? What was it called?”
“I . . . don’t know,” Brooke said.
“That’s not Brooke,” he said. “That was . . . someone else. Brooke’s a doctor.”
I looked over at her, surprised. Maybe it was just that my doctor was a middle-aged woman who always wore sneakers, but I wasn’t used to doctors looking quite so glamorous. But maybe things were different in California.
“Well, that’s very nice,” my dad said, nodding. “Good for you! You’re actually making a difference, unlike my layabout children.”
“Hey,” Danny, J.J., and Linnie said together.
My dad shot them all a grin, then turned to Danny. “But what was that cookie business called? This is going to bug me now.”
“Crumby Service,” Danny muttered after a moment, and my dad broke into a smile.
“That’s right!” he said, chuckling. “So! Brooke. How long are you in town? And where are you staying?”
“We’re staying here,” Danny said. “We’re here for the weekend.”
“But it’s your sister’s wedding this weekend,” my dad said, frowning.
“Right,” Danny said, shooting me a glance, clearly wanting me to help. Our dad was one of the leading botanists in his field, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be incredibly slow on the uptake sometimes. This had migrated into his character in the strip, Geoff, an absentminded professor who was always losing things, which Waffles the beagle would inevitably find.
“They’re coming to the wedding,” I said, making my voice upbeat and cheerful. “Isn’t that great?”
My dad looked over at Linnie. “Did you know about this?”
“It’s—fine,” Linnie said, even though it sounded like she was speaking through clenched teeth. “The more the merrier, right?”
“Not for a wedding,” J.J. muttered.
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