“If looks could kill, we’d both be dead.”
“Dead on the spot. Did you catch the look the florist gave us? I’m pretty sure she wanted to shrivel up and disappear.”
“I think that’s how everyone feels when The Beave is around.”
Lia takes a sip from the large lemonade we decided to share. “Thanks for sticking up for me. I appreciate it.”
“You don’t need to say thank you. That’s what a Pickle of Honor does.”
Lia chuckles but then grows quiet. “Do you think it’s stupid to do the knitted flower thing?”
I shake my head. “Makes me like you that much more.” Her eyes lift to mine. “I think it’s really sweet, and if I were in your shoes, I would want to do the same thing. This is an important day in a person’s life, and it’s only right to honor those who can’t be there. I think your mom would love it if you walked down the aisle with something you made together.”
“Agreed.” She sets her burrito down. “I keep thinking about the walk down the aisle and how my dad would have held me tightly, told me how much he loves me, how proud he is, and how he always dreamed of that day. The day he could give me away. And now . . . now I won’t have that. I’ll have to make the walk alone, and that’s daunting.”
“I’ll walk you down the aisle,” I say. “You won’t be alone. You’ll have me.”
“The Beave would never go for that, as you’re supposed to go ahead of me since you’re the Pickle of Honor.”
“By the way, if Pickle of Honor isn’t on the programs, I’m going to rage.” She smirks. “But I don’t care what The Beave wants. I want you to be happy, to feel like you’re surrounded by the people who love you, and if that means I’m double downing on responsibilities, then who fucking cares?”
“Thank you. Ugh, I hate that this has all been so morose. I feel like when you get married, it should be this big celebration. So far, it’s felt like a version of hell. The only reason I’ve made it through these past two days is because of you. I’m pretty sure I would have folded after the guest list number.”
“It will get better. Once all this planning is out of the way, it will be smooth sailing.”
“I hope so.” She lifts her burrito and takes another bite. “So you going to finish that conversation about Birdy?”
“What else is there to say?” I ask with a shrug. “I think I’m going to give it another chance, just because she’s cool and I had a good time with her. Maybe it was all the sugar I ate, but I told her I would take her hiking, so I’m going to do that, and we’ll see where it goes from there.”
“Why are you pushing it? If you don’t like her, you don’t like her.”
“It’s not that I don’t like her,” I say. “I actually do. I just didn’t feel anything when I kissed her, and I expected more, you know? Maybe I was nervous. She was tugging at my shirt, and that was hot, so maybe I got in my head.”
“She was tugging on your shirt?” Lia asks, her burrito halfway to her mouth. “Like to take it off?”
“No, like to keep me in place. I liked it. And her lips were super soft. I wonder if I open-mouth kissed her if that would have been better?”
“You didn’t open-mouth kiss her?” Lia asks. “So it was just tight-lipped?”
“Yeah, like a peck.”
“Well, that’s probably why you didn’t feel anything. A peck doesn’t give you much room to interpret attraction.”
“Huh.” I scratch the side of my jaw and grab our lemonade. “You know, you might be right.”
“I know I am.”
“Don’t be humble or anything.”
“When have we ever been humble around each other?”
“Never,” I answer. I lean back in my chair. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Headed over to Brian’s. Things have been a little sticky lately between us, and he’s feeling it, so he asked me over. He’s making dinner.”
“Did you talk to him about the glasses?”
She wipes her mouth with a napkin and nods. “Yeah, he admitted to saying that to his mom.” Fury boils in my stomach. The man is still such a douche, and I can’t ever see myself liking him. “But apologized. I don’t know. I feel like this is when all the rotten things come out in a relationship. It’s best it comes out now, right? So you know you can work through all of it.”