Chrissy, Shelby, and Phoebe raise their tequila. Gemma raises her water insolidarity.
"To Phoebe," I say solemnly. "The most loveable, psycho, wonderful, batshit crazy bridezilla who ever walked the streets of Boston. I'm so happy someone is finally making an honest woman of her because, honestly, her dog Boo really needs a solid male figure inhislife—”
Phoebe tosses another ice cube at me; this time, it hits me square in the forehead before I can dodge, which makes the entire table — myself included — dissolve into drunkenlaughter.
"Okay, okay, in all seriousness..." I take a deep breath and gather my thoughts. “Phoebe, you've been my best friend for as long as I can remember. I don't have a childhood memory without you in it. You've been there for all the bad hair days and awful fashion phases and terribly embarrassing life decisions I'd rather not recall at this precise momentintime—”
"Like when you dated Kevin Halliwell because you had it on good authority that his older brother was the drummer in that band and you thought you could score us free tickets but it turned out he was just a roadie who hauled their stuffaround—”
I grit my teeth. "Like I said, embarrassing life decisions I'd rather notrecall—”
"Oh!" Phoebe claps. "Or that time you got pulled over by that cop while we were driving home from that gallery opening and you tried to flirt your way out of a ticket, not realizing you had that giant gob of spinach stuck between your front teeth thewholetime—”
"Well, that wasn't really what I meant whenIsaid—”
"And what about that time you forgot to reschedule your Brazilian wax before that OBGYN appointment with the cutedoctorand—”
"PHOEBE!" I yell, cutting her off and resolutely ignoring the twitching lips of Chrissy, Shelby, and Gemma. "Do you want to make your own toast? Or would you rather continue listing every embarrassing moment of mine you've everwitnessed?"
"Nope." My best friend grins. "You canfinish,now."
I sigh deeply and hoist my shot glass higher in the air. "Like I was saying... You, Phoebe Evangeline West, have been there through it all. You know all my secrets. You're my best friend. You're my partner in crime. You're practically my sister—” My voice breaks on the word, but I ignore the pang of pain that shoots through my heart and push on. "And, while I hate to lose you to anyone, I know there's no man on earth who will love you better or keep you safer than Nathanial Knox. Knowing that you're marrying a man like him... it's the only consolation to losing my best friend." My voice cracks. "I wish you both a life full of laughter, love, and more joy than you can measure. And I hope you know, no matter what, I'll always be here if you need me, whether it’s to drive your getaway car, shape your eyebrows, help hide a dead body, or straighten that hard-to-reach section of hair at the back ofyourhead.”
Phoebe laughs through hersniffles.
My throat feels uncomfortably tight; I clear it roughly and carry on. “Like we swore when we were eight years old, when we pricked our fingers with a pin from my mom's sewing kit and squished them together on the beach behind your house...Team Phee-Lilahforlife!”
Misty-eyed, Phoebe reaches across the table and grabs my hand. She doesn't say anything, but she squeezes so hard my bones grindtogether.
"Don't cry, you great sap." I scoff, looking around at our other friends, who are similarly weepy. "You'll set themalloff."
"I'm not crying!" Phoebe lies, wiping a rogue tear. "There's an eyelash... on mycornea..."
I glance at Gemma and find her bottom lip is quivering dangerously as her eyes move back and forth between Phoebeandme.
"My contacts are dry,” she grumbles in a thick voice, brushing at hercheeks.
"You don't wear contacts," Ipointout.
Another glance around the table reveals Chrissy dabbing her face with a cocktail napkin and Shelby staring up at the ceiling, blinkingrapidly.
Christ.
"You're all saps," I mutter, throwing back my shot, then downing Phoebe's for goodmeasure.
In retrospect, I really should've stopped after one. I should’ve listened to Gemma, and quit while I was ahead. I should've remembered that I had to be at work in a handful of hours — my first day at a new job, no less — and that drinking any more would lead tonothinggood.
I reallyshould've.
But Ididn't.
* * *
After my toast,let’s just say… things started to get a littleblurry.
I have vague memories of the dance floor — me and the girls, flashing pink and red lights, a cover band belting out songs that haven’t been on the radio for at least a decade until the bar closed and the bouncers kicked us tothecurb.
I possess an indistinct recollection of our 3AM limo ride — standing in the sunroof with Phoebe at my side, our arms thrown up to the night sky, screaming at the top of our lungs as Evan steered the hummer toward Phoebe’s brownstone in Back Bay. Dropping off Chrissy, Gemma, and Shelby along the way. Stumbling through Phoebe’s front door, a tangle of flailing limbs and muffled laugher. Her tiny white Pomeranian, Boo, running circles around our high-heeled feet. Phoebe pulling me into the kitchen, toward the distinct sound of malevoices…