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“Everything okay?” Tony asked, his long arms crossed awkwardly in front of him. Though Tony had grown into his body, he still had a bit of goofy puppy dog in his mannerisms. I hoped someone would find it charming one day. He deserved to be loved.
“Yeah,” I said, turning to face him. “I’m sorry about dashing. I just needed a little air.”
“What else?” He asked.
Damn Tony for picking this instant to be insightful enough to realize there was something else going on.
“Nothing,” I tried.
“I’ve known you almost your whole life. I don’t think you can lie to me.”
I smiled at him, my heart softening. He had. He had known me forever. And I wasn’t the sister with the acting genes. “It’s just … Everything feels confusing.”
“Everything?”
“Tony,” I said slowly, looking up at my old friend. I knew it was time to address the situation between us—give us both permission to look forward instead of behind. “You know there’s never going to be anything romantic between us, right?”
He dipped his head for a minute and a sad smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “I do know that. Was worth a try, though.”
Relief washed through me, along with a very platonic love for my old friend, and I looped my arm through his and leaned my head into his shoulder. “So, if you really want to know what’s bothering me, it’s boy trouble, I guess.” It was easier to talk if we both looked out at the constantly flowing river. “It’s Ryan.”
“Juliet’s boyfriend?”
“He’s not,” I corrected quickly. “Well, maybe he is. They started off pretending, but now I don’t really know. It’s just …” I trailed off.
“That is confusing.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” I tugged on his arm and smiled up at his familiar face, taking some comfort in my friend’s willingness to be just that. Just what I needed. A friend.
“Well Tess, I can’t tell you what to do about that. But I will tell you something else. Three things, actually.”
Tony had never been super insightful, so I was surprised he suddenly had three different opinions. I found myself smiling as I said, “Go for it.”
“One, I don’t care who he is or what he’s done, if he can’t see the incredible beauty and grace that surround you, he doesn’t deserve you. And two, that movie he was talking about was pure shit. I don’t care how he spins it, and I’m not sure there’s any coming back from what happened in the final season ofCharade of Stonesanyway.” He grinned, and my sad heart lifted as I laughed. I hadn’t seen the movie—I hated zombies—but everyone had watchedCharadewhen it was on five years ago. That was when I’d fallen in love with Ryan in the first place. That and the movie I’d watched on constant repeat.
“Wasn’t there a third thing?” I asked.
“Yeah, there is.” Tony smiled down at me. “Tonight isn’t about him. It’s about that lady who’s still sharp as a tack and mean as a pit bull, who’s sitting in there waiting for you to make a speech and give her a cake. She told me earlier she didn’t give two squirts of piss about the party, but that she couldn’t wait to get her hands on the cake. Her words.”
I swallowed hard. He was right. This wasn’t about me, or Ryan, or Juliet. Tonight was about Gran, and I was standing out here selfishly moping and wasting time. “You’re right.” I nodded. “You’re right. Come on, let’s go give Gran her cake.”
I held Tony’s arm, and we walked together back into the big tent, which was raucous now with the sound of loud music and people laughing. Bodies twirled in bright colors around the dance floor and the entire atmosphere inside felt light and fun. I spotted Ryan and Juliet dancing on the parquet tile and pushed down the knot that tried to rise up in my throat. This wasn’t about them. And it wasn’t about me or my stupid feelings.
I grinned over at Gran and she gave me a thumbs up, and then tapped her wristwatch and made a circling motion with her finger. Right. Time to get on with it.
I approached the DJ stand and a few minutes later the music faded and people retook their seats.
“Thanks everyone for coming tonight,” I began, uncomfortable at first with the microphone in my hand, my own voice booming through the tent, everyone’s eyes on me. I wasn’t used to being the center of attention. Not in this family.
I took a deep breath and continued. “As you know, we’re here tonight to celebrate one very special woman, Helen Hazel Manchester, my grandmother.”
Applause erupted around me and I smiled over at Gran, who looked moderately surprised to hear people clapping in her honor.
“Some of you have known my Gran for most of your lives,” I continued. “Tommy Dyson,” I turned to address a man much too old to still be going by the moniker Tommy. “You told me earlier tonight that Gran had been the principal of your elementary school, that you remembered being marched into her office, sure you’d be expelled for telling your teacher that spelling was for sissies and girls.”
Tommy nodded his head, a blush coloring his already ruddy cheeks even darker.
“And when you sat in front of her, Gran shook her head at you and asked you if you didn’t realize what the entire point of spelling was in the first place.”
