The Best Laid Plans. Amy Vastine
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Emma snuggled up against her. “Aw, come on. I came to talk about the wedding and to tell you about finally meeting my future husband.”
Kendall perked up. “He started today, huh?”
“He did, and he is gorgeous and thinks I’m beautiful. Maybe a little scary, too.”
“Scary?”
“I may have channeled Lucy for a minute or two today.” Emma related the whole story, perhaps embellishing it here and there.
Kendall fell into a fit of laughter. That was definitely contagious. The sisters laughed until their sides ached. They were still giggling when Simon came bursting into the room, ready to tell his mom all about his night with the guys.
They had gone out to dinner and then to a hockey game, where Max bought Simon the largest pretzel he had ever seen in his entire life. It was so big, Simon had to share with Charlie.
“Don’t forget the part where Patrick Kane looked right at you and waved,” Charlie said as he and Max joined them in the family room.
Properly prompted, Simon began to tell his story in great detail. Emma tried to pay attention, but her eyes kept wandering back to Charlie as he leaned against the door frame all casual with his thick arms folded across his broad chest. His eyes were glued to her. Every time she glanced his way, his smile would spread a little wider across his face. And against her better sense, she found herself smiling back.
He always seemed so happy to see her. Like running into her was a gift he wasn’t expecting but was hoping to receive. The feelings that created in her were unfamiliar. She liked it even though she shouldn’t. Charlie was a friend. A mutual acquaintance, really. She shouldn’t have any feelings in response to him.
When Simon finally finished his story, Charlie stepped closer. “How was your day, Nightingale?”
“I had a very excellent day, thank you. In fact, I was coming to give Kendall an update about the wedding plans. It’s good you and Max are here.”
“From the Hawks to wedding planning. A man’s ultimate fantasy night.” Max’s sarcasm was unappreciated.
“You’re the one so worried about what tricks I have up my sleeve,” Emma quipped. “Or did Charlie tell you all about it already?”
“Ah, that’s not exactly a guys’-night-out conversation topic,” Max replied.
What was the point of having Charlie spy on her if he wasn’t going to report what he found out? He was either a terrible spy or Max didn’t care as much as she thought he did.
“Well, I’m sure Charlie meant to tell you that I’ve already found a great place close to the church that can accommodate us on the Friday we talked about earlier. I also found this caterer—”
“Hang on there, Nightingale,” Charlie interrupted. “I wanted to talk to you about that. I have a better idea for the caterer. Someone who comes highly recommended.”
“Highly recommended by whom?”
“Me.”
Emma’s eyebrows lifted. “You?”
“Yes. Me.”
“Who do you know that could cater an entire wedding reception?”
“A small wedding reception. More like a large family dinner,” Max clarified.
“I’ve got the perfect people for the job. They’re a husband-and-wife team. He cooks for large groups of people all the time, and she’s the best cook you’ll ever meet.”
Where was the Charlie who loved all of her ideas to the moon and back? Had that punch to the face rattled his brain?
“My caterer was referred by an actual bride and groom.”
“I think we should have another meeting to discuss this,” Charlie said. “I had nightmares about those flowers you showed me. I think we need to reassess a couple things.”
“Reassess?” Emma was baffled by this suddenly opinionated Charlie. Traumatic brain injury could cause personality changes. Maybe he wasn’t as fine as he had proclaimed to be. “Are you feeling all right?”
“I’ve also been dreaming about a sundae from the Triple C. Maybe Lucky Lucy can get a large one free and we could split it.”
A strange noise erupted from Kendall. “Have you been pretending to be Lucy again? That is so uncool!”
“Oh, please. Lucy doesn’t care. You could do it, too, if you weren’t such a goody-goody.”
“Some of us need to set a good example for impressionable children,” Kendall said, nodding toward Simon, whose interest was piqued at the mention of ice cream.
“We play a game when we go to the Triple C, right, Simon? I pretend to be Aunt Lulu and he pretends to be Spider-Man. Fun is had by all.”
Charlie and Max laughed. Kendall did not.
“You are a piece of work, Emma Elaine.”
“Elaine? Is that your middle name?” Charlie sat next to her. His proximity was as annoying as his question. He flustered her.
“It was my grandmother’s name. And why are we talking about this? We were talking about the wedding.”
“I think it’s a beautiful name. It fits you.” His sincerity disarmed her once again. She didn’t want to change the wedding plans. She had wanted to hire the caterer tomorrow if Kendall and Max agreed. Charlie obviously loved to throw a wrench into things.
“I vote you two talk this over at another time and come back to us when you agree on things,” Max said as he picked up Simon and threw him over his shoulder. “I am going to get this little guy ready for bed, and then I would like a few minutes alone with my fiancée.”
Maybe this was a test. Emma could only assume Max wanted to see how flexible she could be about this. She would prove to him she could bend.
“Fine. Charlie and I will compare notes and get back to you.”
“Perfect. Say good-night to everyone, Simon.” Max turned around so they could all see Simon hanging down his back. The little boy’s face was red, but he giggled as if he was having the time of his life.
“Good night, everyone,” Simon squealed.
Max brought him over for Kendall to kiss and then carried him upstairs to bed. Emma’s sister had found herself a good man. Emma would make sure they had the best wedding. Even if that meant she had to adjust her plans, thanks to Charlie. He’d better not make a habit of that, though.
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