“You could have fooled me, the way you were looking at each other today,” Abby teased.
Jess couldn’t help but smile at her friend, who meant well and wasn’t being the least bit shy about her intentions. “I get it, Abs. But your groom is looking a little neglected. Don’t worry about me. I’m going to get some punch and relax.”
“Good.” Before she left, Abby folded Jess in a hug. “You really have been the best friend a bride could ask for,” she whispered in Jess’s ear. “I just want you to be happy, too.”
“I am,” Jess assured her, giving her a squeeze before standing back. “Now go. Be bridal.”
Jess mingled for a while. It wasn’t difficult; the guest list was mostly people she’d known for years. Her punch was replenished twice and she caught up with Josh, who had miraculously managed to lose Summer Arnold in the crowd somewhere.
“Lose your date?” Jess teased. She knew Josh wasn’t interested in Summer, wasn’t interested in dating much at all.
“Hey, we sat together and that’s it. We’re both attending stag.”
“She didn’t look like she minded.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t even.”
“Sarah and Mark made it.” Indeed, Sarah was looking lovely, if a bit thin, in a deep red dress, and Matt and Susan were in their Sunday best. “She looks better.”
“I hope so,” Josh said. “Physically she’s fine. The rest will come in time.”
“And how about you, Josh? How are you doing?”
“You know me,” he said easily. “Can’t keep me down for long.”
“Does it bother you that Tom’s so happy?” She’d often wondered if Josh envied Tom the ability to move on and find love.
“Naw. He suffered enough. I might have hated him but it wasn’t really anything he could control. He did his part and stayed away. He didn’t encourage Erin’s feelings. I know that.” He looked down at her, his eyes sad.
“Oh, Josh,” Jess said, putting a hand on his arm.
“Well, enough about that. This is a wedding. A time to celebrate, right? Besides, they’re calling everyone to dinner. We should find our seats.”
Josh was seated with his mom, Meggie, and Sarah’s family. Jess made her way to the head table, which was set for just the four of them. Candles had been added to the tables, thick white ones enclosed in glass globes, the flames flickering gently.
Bryce doubled as parking attendant and emcee, and once everyone was seated he went to the front where a microphone had been set up so all could hear, no matter which tent they were in. Waitstaff went around each table, filling goblets with wine or punch. Once each person had a full glass, Bryce stepped up to the mic. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I give you Mr. and Mrs. Tom Arseneault!”
He lifted his glass, and the guests did likewise as they toasted the bride and groom. Jess looked over. Rick was holding an empty glass. She wondered if that was the first glass he’d emptied tonight—or if there’d been more.
The sound of spoons erupting on glassware filled the tents and Jess grinned. Some traditions never changed. When the sound grew to a fever pitch, Abby and Tom stood and kissed, and the glass tinkling faded as everyone cheered and clapped.
The meal was served buffet style—a gorgeous seasonal feast of pork loin and applesauce, baked haddock and all the trimmings. The sun faded and white twinkle lights were turned on around the garden. Conversation was spared as everyone ate and then, as dessert was served, speeches were made.
Jess had just dipped into her apple crisp and ice cream when Bryce called Rick to the podium to give the toast to the bride.
Jess put down her spoon and watched as he reached into his pocket for an index card, put it on the podium in front of him, took a breath, looked up, and smiled.
She swallowed around a lump in her throat. When Rick smiled, it did something to her. Maybe because she knew he didn’t have a lot to smile about. Maybe because she knew he was trying. Maybe, most important of all, because she remembered that boyish smile. And she’d missed it.
“When Tom asked me to be his best man, there was no way I could say no,” Rick began, his crooked smile charming the socks off the gathered guests. “I’ve known Tom for as long as I can remember. We grew up together. Got into a fair bit of trouble together.” There were a few knowing chuckles in the crowd and he smiled again. “We went in different directions, but when I came back to Jewell Cove, Tom was the guy who really went the extra mile for me. So yeah. Best man—I got your back, buddy.”
Even though he didn’t know Abby that well, his next words about the couple were heartfelt and sweet, talking about how happy she’d made his friend—first by letting him get his hands on Foster House and then by giving him her heart. There were damp eyes and big smiles all around as he closed by saying, “Lift your glasses, everyone … To the Bride, Mrs. Abigail Arseneault.”
He lifted his glass, which Jess noticed was just plain sparkling water, and she felt a little pang in her chest. This was the Rick she remembered from childhood. As he sipped, his gaze settled on her and his dark eyes seemed to challenge her to change her mind about him.
“To Abigail,” the guests intoned, followed by the clinking of glasses.
* * *