Under the Same Stars(80)

I hesitated, then released a sigh. “No,” I said. “The vibe hasn’t been right yet.”

“Ah, yes,” Natalie said. “Your first kiss vibe.”

“Hey, you thought it was cute!”

“I do!” She giggled. “I totally do, but it’s been like three weeks. Why hasn’t the mood struck?”

“Because we’ve both been really busy,” I said, the back of my neck flushing a little. “Sports and homework after school, and club field hockey and club lacrosse on the weekends, so we’ve pretty much been hanging at each other’s houses. Nothing really romantic.” I spotted the wood hanger that held the plastic garment bag. “But”—I snatched the hanger—“we’re going to Grey on Saturday, so I’m excited!”

Grey was the recently renovated restaurant just outside town, a stylish upscale steakhouse that sprawled across the ground floor of the historic Greystone Manor. Dad had gotten a gift certificate from clients and had regifted it to me. “You and Connor have been working hard this fall,” he said. “Enjoy yourselves!”

Ironically, my parents had also chosen it for Austin and Katie’s rehearsal dinner. It would be classic, but with a twist of modernism.

“Ooh, that sounds amazing!” Natalie grinned, then pointed to my dress. “Now go try that on, please.”

Nana had truly performed some type of witchcraft. Instead of being swallowed up by the fabric, I now looked like I’d been poured into the cabernet gown. It hugged me in all the right places, and the neckline scooped tastefully low while the cap sleeves fluttered. Natalie gasped as I did a glam-cam twirl for her. “Do you mind taking a picture?” I asked, handing over my phone. “I should send one to Katie’s mom to prove that I haven’t accidentally set it on fire.”

Natalie gave me a quizzical look but relished her photographer role. Madeline, you look absolutely gorgeous!!! Mrs. Gallant immediately replied to my photo. Have you thought about hair and makeup yet? Text Amanda and ask her to share her Pinterest board.

I sent the shot to Katie, too.

Great, was all she texted back. I waited for more, my eyes prickling when more did not come.

“Okay, what’s her deal?” Natalie asked as she unzipped my dress for me. “I know texts don’t always convey tone well, but would it kill her to add an exclamation point? She sounds like she couldn’t care less.”

“Yeah, she always comes off that way whenever wedding stuff comes up over text. Completely detached, or sometimes even miserable. Like she doesn’t even want to marry Austin.” I shrugged. “She’s probably still pissed at me for the whole Finger Lakes fight, too. I texted her an apology, and she accepted it, but nothing has gotten better.”

Natalie grimaced. “Does Austin know about that?”

“Not unless she told him,” I said, realizing that Katie and my brother were both keeping secrets from each other. Katie was keeping our post–Prosecco Pong duel on the down-low, and Austin was hiding Samira’s ultimatum.

“Hmm,” Natalie said. “May I see their wedding invitation again? I looked up Lily Hopper—the artist—on Instagram, and her portfolio is magical.”

Now wearing cozy joggers and a retro zigzag-patterned Patagonia, I grabbed the envelope from my desk drawer and joined Natalie on my bed. Miss Madeline Fisher-Michaels was handwritten across the navy-blue envelope in gold calligraphy. Mrs. Gallant must’ve proofed the guest list, since Katie always misspelled my name: Madeleine.

Other than that, the invitation was intriguing. It didn’t vibe with their overall Christmas-at-the-country-club theme. It was—well, it had more character. Inside the envelope was a custom insert, a watercolor of a frozen pond surrounded by snow-dusted pine trees, with one of those really rare winter sunsets: a misty blue-gray and amber sky that somehow glowed gold. “I’ve never been to Bedens Brook,” I told Natalie, “but I guess this scene is somewhere on the property?”

“Nothing gets past you, Mads,” Natalie said sarcastically before admiring the invitation itself. The same cream card stock and navy border, along with the formal wedding invitation language, but it was made interesting by an interlocking A and C at the top. Katie’s C in gold, and Austin’s A in icy blue. The letters were wreathed by greenery, a playful crest of sorts. Their names leapt out of the matrimonial summons, too, in whimsical navy script:

Catherine Marie

to

Austin Frederick



It was traditional but, at the same time, so not traditional. It was, honestly, kind of fun. Freshly cut blue spruce and balsam fir trees leaned against the red barn that had been painted on the back of the little RSVP card. Again, Bedens Brook must’ve been more than the photo gallery on its website. “Shit, I still need to send this,” I said. “What should I have to eat? There’s herb-roasted chicken, but Austin said the maple-glazed salmon is really good.”

Natalie snorted. “You haven’t submitted your RSVP yet?”

“Well, it’s obvious I’m coming,” I said. “The deadline also isn’t until next week.” I checked the box for the salmon, then drew a line through the space for my plus-one’s name and his meal preference.

“Mads, you have a date,” Natalie reminded me. “Connor?”