Under the Same Stars(50)

Marco chuckled. “Ah, Mads, there’s no shame in declaring bankruptcy.”

I groaned. “Marco!”

“What?” he said, smiling. “You’re being overdramatic.”

“But true!” I countered.

He didn’t argue. “Listen, this is the way it is these days,” he said calmly. “My sister has been in four weddings, and they’ve all been an investment.”

“Are you sure you don’t mean a bill?” I grumbled, even though I’d caught his drift. Carina ?lvarez was invested in her friendships; she didn’t consider them a cost.

But wasn’t asking people to spend over a thousand dollars kind of too much?

“I hate this!” I announced to the world. “I hate this, I hate this, I hate—”

“Excuse me, what do we hate?” Dad pushed through the front door. “Hopefully today’s list isn’t too long yet.”

I made an unintelligible noise.

“We just logged off a bridesmaid Zoom call,” Marco translated. “They went over details for Katie’s bachelorette weekend. A follow-up email is imminent.”

“And how did that go?” Dad asked me.

“Do you think Nana will write me an early birthday check?” I answered. “September isn’t that far away…”

“Ah.” He easily picked up what I was putting down, retracing his steps over to the doorway. “Lee!”

Marco packed up his laptop and books. “I’m going to do some reading in the Garden,” he said as Da joined the party on the porch.

“I suspect I know what this is about,” Dad said once Marco was gone. He, Da, and I sat together at the table. “But humor us.”

I did, and didn’t give my parents a chance to respond before adding, “Do I really need to go on the trip? I mean, I can’t drink and Amanda talked about this whole wine crawl.”

“Trail,” Dad corrected, amused. “It’s wine trail.”

“And pub crawl,” Da said, then cleared his throat. “If you don’t want to go, Mads, we aren’t going to stop you from bowing out. This is your decision.”

Dad nodded. “Conflicts happen.”

Guilt seeped into my skin. Conflicts did happen, but for once, I didn’t have one. Katie’s bachelorette was in mid-August, which was usually when we took our family vacation. By that time, I was finished with camps, my club team training was way more relaxed, and high school preseason didn’t start until the week after we got home. I’d be lying if I said I was unexpectedly busy. My dads were going to visit my great-aunt Penny in Rhode Island, but Austin would see right through that if I asked to tag along.

Austin also will be disappointed, I thought. He won’t be angry, but he’ll be really disappointed in me if I don’t go.

And my brother had been in the best mood lately. He was now in his final year of dental school, determined to be a pediatric dentist, plus he and Katie had smoothed things over…pretty much thanks to Da. Since Austin’s lying days were far, far behind him, he had told our parents about the less-than-terrific tasting at Bedens Brook and the Gallants’ plan for outside caterers. “Why don’t you do another one just to be sure?” Da had suggested. “I’d love to come with you, if you want another opinion.”

(The second tasting had gone much better.)

Now, they gave me a look. “Mads, it’s admirable—and adorable, truthfully—that you believe you need to cover your bridesmaid expenses,” Dad said. “But there’s no way that’s happening.”

Thank god, I thought, my sigh of relief embarrassingly audible. Thank god, thank god, thank god!

“We’ll take care of everything,” Da told me. “It’ll be up to you when your field hockey friends inevitably ask you to be in their weddings someday, but your situation will be different then. You’ll have graduated college and be working.” He shook his head. “You cleaning the grout in the bathrooms this summer is not the equivalent to earning a salary.”

“Helping stage houses and reviewing inspection reports is closer,” Dad said. “Although still not the same.”

The corners of my eyes smarted with tears. “I’ll go on the trip,” I said. “I’ll go to the Finger Lakes.”

“Well, would you look at that!” Da exclaimed. “Harry, the second she finds out she’s not paying her tab, she’s no longer such a hater.”

“No, no,” I said as Dad laughed. “I’ll go, but that doesn’t mean I want to.” I folded my arms across my chest. “Haters gonna hate.”

***

“Do you think Austin’s best man has something like this for Montana?” I asked. Marco and I were both on the Garden’s couch, sitting close enough that I could smell his sunscreen, its coconut scent now so familiar. We were reading through the Google Doc that Amanda had shared. It detailed everything from the Airbnb mansion to the scheduled vineyard visits to meal planning. My cooking skills were so limited that I’d quickly signed up to make breakfast one day. Coffee, muffins, yogurt, and fruit salad would work, right?

Marco shook his head in disbelief.

I giggled. Austin’s bachelor weekend wasn’t until September. “We invited Wit,” Austin had said on the phone the other day. “He’s not a groomsman, but who cares? The guy is a ton of fun…”