Page 53 of George’s Big Day

The rooms, twenty-five in total, were all nature themed with individual names like the Rabbit’s Warren, the Crow’s Bauble, and the Owl’s Nest, done in a warm, inviting rustic colonial style—and, I was glad to see, not one scary, stuffed animal carcass in sight. Everything was vintage but artful, and once the cottage core crowd discovered this jewel in the middle of nature, the B&B was booked for more weddings than Noah could keep up with, sometimes two years in advance. Even though only a select number of people could stay here at once, it could go from being an intimate venue to a very large one with what could be done with all the outdoor space in every season. Dante and Noah owned twenty acres of what everyone called magical woods.

Staying at the B&B for vacations offered canoeing on the small lake, horseback riding, guides to take people out on the many hiking trails, and nature walks to see all kinds of flora and fauna.

Looking at it that day on the computer, I could tell Kurt was enchanted. I saw his eyes glaze over. We had been looking and finding nothing he liked in the city, and as the wedding date kept changing, whenever he found something he did like, it was already reserved for the foreseeable future. But now, somehow, Chris had called in a favor with Dante, who had purposely blocked out the time for me.

“I love this so much,” Kurt had whispered, looking at the outdoor arbor with the flakes falling like a giant snow globe.

“Ours would be in the fall, though. I refuse for our nuptials to bump up against the big holidays when no one can come, or worse, go into the next year.”

“Oh no, fall is the cutoff even if we say screw it and go see the justice of the peace.”

“We’re not doing that,” I promised, knowing how much a wedding in front of all our friends meant to him.

“So you’ll check with your friend about this lovely B and B?”

I didn’t correct him, because what was the point? Dante Cerreto was not my friend, Chris Mancuso was, but that meant nothing to Kurt.

“He is, isn’t he?”

Only Kurt could read the hesitancy on my face.

“George?”

Was Dante my friend? Could I call him that? What was funny was that thinking about it, the answer was yes. In life-and-death situations, people bonded fast.

“I’ll do it now,” I told him.

“Okay, good,” he said with a deep sigh.

And just like that, everything fell into place.

Kurt’s sister had told him in the summer that whatever she had to do to get her family to his wedding in the fall, she would make it happen. When I told her it would be the week before Thanksgiving, in Maine, she was beyond thrilled. When she saw the venue, she was even more excited, and so were the kids. I wanted to hug her so tight for keeping her word, even though I wasn’t surprised. She loved her brother dearly, but she was a bit fond of me as well.

One after another, everyone said yes, that of course they would be there, shuffling their whole lives to make time for me and Kurt. It was above and beyond, and I was struck that I was being prioritized. Having grown up alone, it meant the world that the family I found would happily show up for me. It was more than I could have ever asked for.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Ian’s words brought me out of my thoughts, back to the present, and I found myself at the sliding glass door, looking out at trees in shades of November as far as the eye could see.

“George?”

I met his gaze but couldn’t dredge up any words.

“Listen, you had a little excitement before the wedding, but everything’s fine now. No one wants to shoot you or any of your guests, the reception promises to be full of stories I can’t wait to hear, and if my boss either dances or does karaoke, I might die happy right there.”

He was trying to make me laugh, which was kind of him.

“I know what this is,” he said.

I waited, hoping he did because I myself had no clue.

“You’re worried you’re going to fuck this up.”

Sitting down, I wondered if that was true.

When the door opened and Chris walked in, I stared at him.

“There, see?” Chris said, stopping between the TV and the couch, doing a slow spin for us. “I clean up nice.”