“Uncle Fred with Cousin Martha?” Noah tried.
“Didn’t Martha’s sister die in a drunk driving accident last August?”
Noah’s expression turned grim and he sucked his lips into a thin line. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“And speaking of it, put your uncle by the bathrooms.”
“The bathrooms?” he repeated. “Oh, because the bar is…” he mumbled, arranging the seating chart. “Hey, why did you put Damian at the end of our table?”
“Isn’t it more traditional that the best man sit next to me?” Noah gave her a grin.
She forced a smile back, “That’s true,” she began. “But I’m wearing a red dress and my lesbian aunt is walking me down the aisle, so I think the concept of traditional has long been thrown out the window.”
“You would remove me from the company of my best friend?”
“I’m your best friend now,” she retorted.
Noah laughed and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Want some more wine?”
“Yes please.” Meghan watched him turn the corner into the kitchen as she tapped her pencil against the table. Her eyes fell on Damian’s name, seated near the back exit. Damian was a recluse, no one would notice if he left. And without sitting next to him, nor would Noah.
The best man had the nasty habit of smoking, and Meghan was counting on his evening fix.
“Here you are.” Noah planted a glass before her, snapping her out of her trance.
“How about Mary-Anne and your grandma Marsha?”
“Mary-Anne!” Meghan put her fingers to the bridge of her nose. “I nearly forgot. She was doing the floral arrangements.”
“You had Mary-Anne do what?”
“The lady at Red Rose died and on such short notice, I didn’t have much of a choice! I was supposed to meet Mary at Starbucks for lunch today… oh god…” Meghan grabbed her phone from the charger, she hadn’t checked it since it died this morning. Seventeen voicemails. Meghan felt like crying.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Noah traced circles on her back. “It’ll be okay.” He tried another grin. “You’re wearing a red dress and your lesbian aunt is walking you down the aisle, who needs flowers?”
“I wanted flowers.”
He sighed and let his head rest on her shoulder. “We’ll figure it out tomorrow, okay? Tomorrow’s worries to tomorrow’s us. It’s late, let’s head to bed.” He planted another kiss on her cheek and got up, stealing a glance at her before disappearing into the hall.
She stared at the seating chart.
The moment Damian walked out that back door, the very moment…
She glanced at her phone again.
"Payment recieved " read a text from an unknown number.
At least something is going right, Meghan thought, feeling a smirk grow on her face.
Damian was finally going to disappear.
edit because I kept calling Noah “John” for some reason