He looked a bit horrified by this pronouncement, even though he hadn’t drunk any of the juice yet. “I don’t mind,” he said. “You can keep the other glass.”
Um, no, because that would be weird. He looked like he was about to reach for the glass anyway, so she picked it up, claiming it as her own. “The bartender calls this drink Sunset in Mexico. It’s a mixture of juices and Diet Sprite.” She was not only hungry, she was thirsty from running around doing things before the wedding. She took long drinks from the glass. The pineapple juice burned her throat. Not her favorite part of Mexico sunsets. If she got this drink again, she’d tell the bartender to leave it out.
She asked Mr. Travers about his job while she ate her broccoli. Even hungry, it didn’t taste good, and she was glad she had the juice to wash it down with. She finished her juice down to the ice and still had a piece of broccoli left.
Mr. Travers still hadn’t touched his juice. He’d just picked at his food while he talked about his construction job.
“Where did the pastor go?” Mr. Travers asked, craning his neck to look. “I should thank him for hitching my girl.”
Was Riley such a boring conversationalist that Olivia’s dad already wanted to ditch her? Possibly. But he couldn’t get into too much trouble talking with the pastor. In the dim light, it took Riley several moments to locate him. “He’s sitting with his wife in the far corner.” She pointed but also turned to Mr. Travers to see if he’d spotted them.
Mr. Travers was smoothing down his suit jacket again. “You’re right,” he said with false brightness. “There he is. Good old Pastor Buxton.”
“Burton,” Riley said.
“Right. That’s what I meant.” He forced a laugh.
Why was Olivia’s father acting so oddly?
At that moment, Riley swallowed the last bite of broccoli the wrong way and began to choke. The thing felt like it was lodged in her throat. She coughed and coughed again while Mr. Travers stared at her in concern. Great. She had wanted to make an impression during Olivia’s wedding, but this was not what she had envisioned. Any minute now, someone would come over and offer to give her the Heimlich maneuver.
She grabbed Mr. Travers’s juice and drank big gulps of it.
Sure enough, her coughing had drawn attention. Elsie appeared at the table, worry furrowing her brow. “Are you okay?”
Riley nodded and took another gulp of juice. She refused to choke to death in front of everyone. That was such a tacky way to die.
“Can you breathe?” Elsie asked.
Riley nodded again but still couldn’t speak.
Mr. Travers gaped at her in nervous worry. “Are there any paramedics here?”
“Lucas,” Elsie said, already peering around the room to find her brother.
Riley shook her head, hoping they would understand it wasn’t necessary. She was supposed to dance with buff football players and make Lucas realize that other guys thought she was pretty. The plan didn’t include him doing some emergency chest compressions and her spewing half-chewed broccoli onto the floor while a crowd of onlookers surrounded them.
Riley drank more. Fortunately, the liquid finally washed the broccoli away, and she was able to swallow normally again. “I’m fine.” Her voice sounded a little raspy. “A piece of food just went down the wrong way. I think it may have scratched my throat.” She put her hand on her throat. It burned worse than it had before. Who knew that broccoli had such sharp edges.
“It’s happened to all of us,” Elsie said. She was still watching Riley in concern.
“Well,” Riley said, “this will give me a reason to avoid broccoli for the rest of my life.”
“Always look for the silver lining,” Elsie agreed.
“Glad you’re ok,” Mr. Travers said. His eyes dropped to the empty juice glass, and he stared at it unhappily.
He hadn’t had anything to drink, and she’d just downed his entire glass of juice. “I’ll get you a new drink.” She got to her feet over his protests that he could get the juice this time. She wanted to put some distance between her and this event. She turned to Elsie. “You can keep Mr. Travers company while I get him juice, can’t you?”
“Sure,” she said.
Riley headed to the line again.
It was longer this time. As she stood in it, her chest began to feel funny. Tingly somehow. Her stomach felt funny too.
She hoped she wasn’t going to be sick. Best not to eat anything else. She didn’t want to be memorable at Olivia’s wedding because she was the bridesmaid who threw up while dancing. She put her hand on her stomach and took deep breaths. Everything would be fine in a few minutes.
Everything would be fine.