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Thinking of the wedding pulled me out of my grief for Max. “Does it matter if it is in a church?”
“I would rather it be on a roof with flowers.”
I eyed him. “Because?”
“You know why, mysh.”
“For Lunita?”
“Yes. It would be important to her.”
Usually, I would have gotten mad, but in this moment. . .the anger didn’t come. Was it because I knew that she was suffering over Max like me?
That we were twins in this grief.
“Okay.” I sighed. “A roof with flowers all over it—”
“And large cages of lions.”
“I feel sad for our wedding planner. I’ll get Blue to find someone who can deal with your craziness.”
Kaz laughed like I was the ridiculous person in the tub, and then I realized that I very much needed to hear Kaz laugh. The very sound of his joy calmed me.
I swallowed. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you too.”
I let out a long breath. “The lions will feast.”
“They will.”
“And. . .” I undid my arms and raised my hand to the surface to touch bubbles. “Our wedding should beautifully merge Russian and African American cultures.”
“I like this.”
“I just don’t know how we will do that.”
“The wedding planner will help us.”
“Maybe, the vows could be in Russian and in English.”
Kaz smirked. “Yes. This is good.”
“A jazz band could be at the ceremony. We’re in New Orleans after all.”
“Perhaps, we can fly in a balalaika player too.”
“What is that?”
“The balalaika has a triangular-shaped body and typically three strings. It comes in different sizes.” Kaz pretended to play one in the water, looking like an odd Honky Tonk player. “And the balalaika player strums and plucks, playing folk tunes or even classical compositions.”
“Then, I’m down.” I shrugged. “Let’s fly a few in.”
Kaz winked.
I shook my head, getting even more tipsy. “What colors should the wedding be themed?”
“I do not care as long as your dress is white and so pretty, it will be fun to tear it away.”
