But my very favorite moment, permanently locked in my heart, was the light in Loren’s eyes after she talked to Joanna Parker. Something shifted inside her that moment. Like a weight lifted, as the guy in that song “Marry Me” sang. Because Loren knows now that her father will be provided for. Forever. She made that happen. And I helped. So in a way, securing Harlan’s future was our first group project. And that comfort is worth any risk or pain or heartache I might feel for the rest of my life.
I think.
Ask me again in a month, after I’ve been living with my wife, but only as her friend.
Anyway.
Back to now.
After the close call with Sayla’s theater kids, we decide our best course of action is to get off the Stony Peak campus. ASAP. There are simply too many potential witnesses who could be lurking around the school, potentially recognizing us in our wedding garb. So we all pile back into the limo to figure out our next steps.
“Where to, boss?” Dex asks Sayla. “You’re the queen of photo ops.”
“Hmm.” She’s scrolling through footage on her phone. “I already got great stuff at Harvest Farms. And now at the school.” She lifts her chin. “Althoughthatturned out to be some risky business, huh?”
Loren coughs over a laugh and glances at me. Her cheeks are pink, and her bright eyes look almost … carefree. At the very least, she’s a whole lot less care-FULL. “I still can’t believe you guys threw us a reception in under twenty-four hours.” She pauses for a moment. “Scratch that. We threw an entire wedding today.”
“We did!” Sayla high-fives her.
“According to my evidence on my napkin,” Dex says, waving the crumpled thing around, “Bridger did the most work.”
I snatch the napkin from him. “That’s debatable.” I shove the napkin in my pocket. “But either way, Loren and I couldn’t have pulled any of this off without you and Sayla. So thank you both. Truly.”
“Of course,” Sayla says. “You’re our best friends.”
I force a smile even as my gut twists. Apparently, myfriendSayla can’t complete a sentence without including the F-word.
“Personally, I was made for stuff like this,” Dex says. Hekicks back against the limo seat, legs crossed, arms up over his head. “And I love an excuse to wear a suit.”
Sayla leans over and plants a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “I love you wearing a suit, too.”
“Save it for your love nest, kids,” I say. “We’ve still got a few more stops to make.”
“You’re right.” Sayla straightens. “Photo ops!”
At her direction, the driver takes us back through downtown Harvest Hollow. In a perfect world, she’d take pictures and video of us at the park and by the fountain, but we can’t afford to be seen. So she hops out, and while the limo cruises by, she takes shots of Loren and me briefly popping up through the sunroof. Hands in the air. Grinning. Acting playful.
I feel ludicrous.
Also, it’s fun.
Next, Sayla has the driver pull around behind the movie theater. The parking lot’s mostly empty at this time on a Tuesday. But the property is lined with foliage that, according to her, provides a good background. While no one’s around, Sayla has Loren toss her bouquet over her shoulder to a non-existent group of bridesmaids. Then Loren jumps on my back, and I give her a ride along a row of maple trees.
The rear entrance flies open, and a lanky teenager with his frizzy hair pulled into a ponytail emerges. He’s wearing a movie theater vest and carrying a tub of popcorn and a jumbo-sized drink. He takes one look at us, mumbles, “Old people are weird,” then he heads back inside.
“Hey.” Dex scoffs. “Who’s he calling old?”
“Poor kid,” I say. “Just trying to take a break in peace.”
“Anyone recognize him?” Sayla asks.
We all agree we’d never seen him before. “He probably goes to Harvest High,” Loren points out.
“Anyway, we should go,” Sayla says. “We’ve had enough close calls for one day.”
Since the next stop on her photo op tour is Bony Mountain, we decide to skip a hike to the peak. Not just because of our inappropriate wardrobe, but also to avoid attracting attention. Instead, Sayla has Loren and me take a series of informal selfies and a couple short videos at the base of the mountain, with the trail in the background.
Afterward, we all pile back in the limo, and Sayla checks our work. “These pics are so fun,” she chirps.