“They’re perfect for each other,” I assure her. And they are. Queenie is full of life, effervescent, and willing to take risks and think outside the box, which is exactly what Ryan needs in a partner.
“Good, good. That’s good. You look so lovely in this dress. Such a perfect fit for the bridal party.”
“Thanks, Mom. Is there something you need or...” I let it hang.
“Oh. Right. Yes.” She adjusts my hair and the strap of my dress. “I wanted to tell you that you’re not obligated to give a speech tonight if you don’t feel comfortable. I know it’s awkward for you, so if you don’t think it’s something you can handle, don’t push yourself, dear. I know today is emotional for you.”
That’s mom speak for don’t embarrass yourself. She continues to talk around my relationship with Ryan, and the fact he’s not actually her son. It’s been a real challenge. And one I really don’t need shoved in my face today. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll keep that under advisement.”
The master of ceremonies for the evening steps up to the mic and gives it a tap. The feedback is extreme and loud.
“We should probably sit back down since the speeches are starting,” I tell her.
“Oh yes, of course.” She kisses me on the cheek and heads back to her seat and I do the same.
If I wasn’t trying my damnedest to hold it together before, I sure am now.
Thankfully, the emcee is Ryan’s best man, Bishop Winslow, whom I’m sure is going to provide some much-needed comic relief. He’s an interesting choice, in part because he’s clearly not comfortable speaking in front of people, despite half of them being his teammates. And also because he has the bedside manner of an agitated polar bear.
“Why does he have to touch it every single time?” Stevie pushes her chair back and hikes her dress up so she doesn’t trip on the hem as she rushes to the podium. Her heels are under the table, so her feet are bare.
When she reaches Bishop, she bats his hands away.
He makes a face. “Why are you slapping me, bae? What am I doing wrong?”
She huffs, “Just let me help.”
He steps away from the podium and clasps his hands behind his back, letting her adjust the mic for him while giving the crowd a shrug. Everyone chuckles, especially when he rocks back on his heels and starts whistling the Jeopardy theme song.
Stevie shakes her head at him and turns her attention to the waiting guests. “Sorry about that. Shippy doesn’t usually do public speaking.”
His mouth drops open and he holds his hands up. “Whoa, whoa. What the he—H-E-double hockey sticks?” He manages to censor his language.
She shrugs. “What? I’m not wrong. You never do.”
“You called me Shippy in front of a hundred people, bae.” He motions to the guests sitting at the tables. “Not cool. You’re gonna pay for that later.”
She rolls her eyes and spins around, but she’s smiling as she walks away. “Whatever.”
“You say whatever now, but later you’ll be saying—”
“Don’t finish that sentence unless you want me to toss your ass into the pool, Winslow!” her brother, Rook, shouts from a few seats down.
Bishop cringes. “Oh shit. I mean, shoot. Right. Sorry, grandparents and anyone with young children. I’m not the best at keeping it PG with my words, which I’m gonna have to get better at since Stevie has already told me she wants a bunch of little Bishops running around. Hopefully, they have her personality and not mine.” He sends a wink Stevie’s way.
“And her ability to watch her language,” Ryan adds.
That gets another chuckle from the crowd.
Bishop shrugs and thumbs toward Ryan. “I told them I’m not the best at this whole speech thing. I failed it back when I was in middle school, probably because I ad-libbed with swear words. Anyway, as you all know by now, I’m the best man and Ryan’s best friend. We’ve known each other for a lot of years. When we were teens, we played for the same team when we were in the minors. Ryan is basically the reason I stayed out of trouble, not because I was particularly good at following rules, but when you’re like me, and you have the personality of a rabid porcupine, not a lot of people will put up with you.”
“You’re more like a declawed panther, Shippy!” Stevie heckles.
He gives her a look and shakes his head. “I’m coming for you later, bae.” He brings his attention back to the guests. “She’s such a beautiful distraction, isn’t she?” He runs his hand nervously over his tie. “Anyway, where was I?”
“You were talking about your winning personality and your bromance,” Rook reminds him.
“Right. Yeah. So Ryan, being the stand-up guy he is, decided I was worth all the headaches. And an unlikely friendship began. Sort of like a bunny befriending a grizzly bear.” Bishop pulls some paper out of his pocket. It’s lined school paper. He unfolds it and sets it on the podium. “Anyway, I wrote a bunch of shit—I mean stuff—down, mostly jot notes and things I wanted to touch on.” He clears his throat and smooths a hand over his tie, then takes a sip of his drink.