You’re Invited Too (26 page)

I poke Sadie with my elbow, and she smiles back. This may be going even better than we'd hoped.

“Now where's my Ikey? I want to get married!” Miss Worthington says. And with that we lead the way toward the river.

We stop behind the lace curtains that hang from tree branches. I peek around them and spot Sadie's mom up near the front, coordinating with the musicians, so we hang back with Miss Worthington as she waits to walk down the “aisle” (which is really just a carpet of flower petals from the end-of-season mums at the town florist's).

“I'm sorry I got a little . . . over-the-top with the wedding details,” Miss Worthington says out of nowhere.

None of us know what to say.

“I got so fixated on making everything perfect and unique that I forgot the entire point of the wedding,” she goes on.

“Love,” Becca fills in.

“Exactly.” Miss Worthington gives her a smile. “You all look very nice, by the way. And thank you for everything you've done.”

“You're welcome,” Sadie replies. I think her shoulders actually sag just a little in relief, like she's just put down the weight of carrying around this wedding.

“Oh, no!” Miss Worthington's eyes get huge. “I completely forgot my something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue!”

Becca grins. “Oh, we can totes fix that! Can't we, girls?”

“You bet,” I say as I fish in my tiny, impractical purse for the shell I found washed up at the marina this afternoon when I went to pick up the golf cart. “Here.” I hold it out to Miss Worthington. “This is a Scotch bonnet. It's the official state shell. It can be your something old.”

Miss Worthington holds up the little brown-and-white shell, admires it, and then says, “Thank you, Lauren.”

She slips the shell into one of her white gloves, where it looks lumpy, but she doesn't seem to care.

Sadie pulls the red ponytail holder from around her wrist and winds it around the “stem” of Miss Worthington's bouquet. “This is your something new. And it's red, which is good luck in weddings in India.”

“And your something borrowed.” Becca slips a black button into Miss Worthington's glove, where it clinks against the shell. “It's one of Mr. Bobo's button eyes,” she explains. “It fell off at the shelter, and I didn't want to lose it.”

We all look to Vi. “Something blue,” she says. “Um . . . well, all I have is this.” She pulls a little compact out of one of her dress pockets and flips it open. It's dark blue eye shadow—which exactly matches what she's wearing on her eyes. I guess we've all gotten so used to seeing Vi wearing makeup and dresses now that none of us even noticed.

“You have
eye shadow
in your pocket?!” Becca's equal parts surprised and proud.

“Yeah. Don't make a big deal about it, okay?” Vi swipes a little color on the brush. “I promise just to put a tiny bit on so it doesn't ruin what you already have,” she says to Miss Worthington.

And—surprise to end all surprises—Miss Worthington closes her eyes and lets Vi apply just a teeny bit of the navy blue to her eyelids.

“Are you nervous?” Vi asks Miss Worthington as she slips the compact back into her pocket. All eyes are on us as we wait behind the lace curtains (which, truthfully, don't really hide us), and I'm sure Vi is remembering how it felt to walk the runway at Linney's birthday party last summer.

“Not at all,” Miss Worthington says. “I'm marrying the love of my life. I have nothing to be nervous about.” And with that she gives Ike, who's standing near the riverbank, a little finger wave. The old Miss Worthington probably would've freaked out if her groom had seen her in her dress before the ceremony started.

Becca sighs, all smiley and dreamy-looking.

The musicians—Ms. Mize with her violin, Mr. Rose with his banjo, and (thankfully) no kazoos—start playing. Bubby rows up in her kayak (I may very well have the only grandmother on the island who can kayak) and steps out with help from Sadie's mom. She's dressed in a blinding pink muumuu with Hawaiian flowers all over it. And peeking out from under the hem are the sequined Chucks that I caved and got her for her birthday earlier this year. Not my best moment, but Bubby sure was happy.

Sadie's mom signals to us.

And the wedding starts. Miss Worthington floats down the aisle toward her Ike. Sadie, Vi, Becca, and I slip into chairs in the back. Izzy flies around, snapping pictures and probably reveling in her role as official wedding photographer.

“Do you, Alex—you don't mind if I call you Alex—take Ike to be your lawfully wedded hubby?” Bubby asks Miss Worthington.

Vi snorts when Bubby calls Miss Worthington Alex. But Miss Worthington doesn't even seem to notice.

“I do,” she says, all dreamy-eyed. “But only if he agrees that we can stay here, in that lovely house by the ocean, close to all these lovely people. Would that be okay, babes?”

Ike's face goes from surprised to confused to thrilled in all of five seconds. Then he says, “Of course that's okay!”

Bubby beams at them. “Do you promise to honor, cherish, and save him from hurricanes?” she asks. “Like I did with my Mr. Wheeler—hi there, cutie patootie!” She winks at him in the audience. “He was near certain death by the sea when I rolled up and scooped him onto my Wanda, and drove off with him into the sunset.”

“More like into the howling wind and driving rain,” I whisper to Sadie.

“I do” is all Alexandra says.

“And do you, Ike—you're a cute one, aren't you?—take Alex to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Poor Ike actually blushes. “I do,” he finally manages to say.

“Do you promise to honor, cherish, and always do what Alex says?”

We all have to cover our mouths to keep from laughing when she says that. But Ike says, “I do.”

When Bubby says, “You may smooch the bride,” I'm pretty sure I could dive under the chair from embarrassment, but the whole crowd laughs, and Alexandra and Ike kiss.

It's all pretty perfect, actually.

After the ceremony, everyone moves to the reception area, which is really just a bunch of blankets set up picnic-style with pillows. Lance and his family make sure the food from Stewie's and the dishes everyone brought are ready to go, and Vi floats over to help him.

Ms. Mize and Mr. Rose put aside the sedate wedding music and break out some serious down-home fiddle-and-banjo tunes. Everyone's eating and dancing and talking and having a great time. Even Alexandra and Ike are whirling around the “dance floor” like crazy, Izzy buzzing around and taking about a million pictures of them.

I'm dancing in a tiny circle with Becca and Sadie, all of us beyond excited about how well this whole thing has gone, when Bubby swings by on Wanda with Zach. I'm wondering exactly how she managed to talk my brother into dancing with her. “Fab wedding, ladies,” she shouts to us. “I'm booking you in advance for mine.” She gives us a wink. “That ain't a two-step, Zach. It's more like a twenty-step. I need to give you some dancing lessons,” she scolds my brother as they shuffle away.

“I don't think we'll have to worry about Bubby getting married here,” I say to Becca and Sadie. “She'll just skip off to Vegas.”

Vi and Lance are out on the dance floor too. When Ms. Mize and Mr. Rose switch from a really raucous tune to a slow ballad, Sadie and I take that as a signal to check on things, leaving Becca to find Philippe. It looks like Vi and Lance are going to try the slow-dance thing all over again—and this time Linney's nowhere in sight. In fact, I haven't seen her at all since the shelter yesterday morning. She's probably at home, fuming over how Vi finally told her off.

Sadie and I check on the food, arrange the gifts that are piled on the little red wagons that people brought to use as gift tables, and make sure the cake is ready to go. Just as we finish making the rounds, the ballad ends and Vi and Lance and Becca and Philippe join us.

Lance and Philippe discuss the finer points of European soccer teams (while Vi jumps in now and then with opinions).

“What are we going to do, now that we'll have all this time that isn't taken up by wedding planning?” Vi asks.

“Study,” I answer. “Obviously.”

“Plan more parties,” Sadie says.

“Or another wedding!” Becca says. “Bubby was totally hinting earlier.”

“No. No way.” I fix Becca with my best glare. “Vegas, remember?”

“Can you believe we actually pulled this off?” Becca asks. “I mean, with all the crazy stuff that's happened? Not just Bridezilla and the hurricane, but with Linney being jerktastic to Vi the whole time.”

“And us pretty much stealing this wedding from Sadie's mom,” Vi says.

“Lauren and me getting booked for the Great Headlight Incident,” Sadie adds.

“We didn't get booked,” I remind her. “But I did get that awful grade.”

“Even more tragic than that,” Becca says, “my braces.”

“Most tragic,” Sadie says, trying not to laugh.

“Worse than the hurricane, for sure,” I add.

“The only thing more horrible than Becca getting braces would be like the entire island falling into the ocean,” Vi says.

We laugh so hard that we have to grab each other to keep from collapsing.

“Whatever!” Becca says. “Just wait till y'all join me here in Metal-land. Then
I'll
be the one laughing.”

And that just makes us laugh harder. Lance and Philippe take a few steps away, as if we'll infect them with our craziness.

“Seriously, though,” Becca goes on. “The thing is that when I think back on it all, none of that stuff was really
that
bad. Even the hurricane. Or at least it wasn't as bad as it would have been if I didn't have you guys around. It's weird, but even the worst stuff is better when we're together. Is that totally cheesy? Because if not, I may have to write a song about this phenomenon.”

Vi nods. Sadie rubs her eyes. And I grab everyone into a huge hug.

“What are they doing?” Lance whispers to Philippe.

“I don't know, but eet looks scary,” Philippe replies.

“Let's go get some more boiled peanuts.”

Philippe makes a face, but disappears with Lance.

“Okay, way too much seriousness,” Becca says. “And now that the boys are gone, let's talk about my kiss some more!”

•  •  •

When the sun goes down, the entire riverbank is lit up with white battery-operated strings of twinkle lights and these amazing glowing glass jars that Vi and Mr. Alberhasky made using the stuff from glow sticks. The music's still going, full speed, and the guests are dancing. Alexandra and Ike have been smiling the entire time. The whole scene gives me this warm, melty feeling.

After slurping down Drumsticks and ice-cream sandwiches from Lily Lemon's ice-cream truck, which has pulled up right in the middle of the road to serve ice cream to all the guests, we snag a couple of the Polaroid cameras lying on the picnic blankets. Instead of having a traditional guest book, Sadie came up with this great idea to have all the guests snap pictures of themselves to paste in the book along with their messages.

“Stand still!” I yell to Vi, who's got Sadie balanced on her shoulders. They stop moving for a split second, and I take the picture right before they tumble to the ground.

“Selfie!” Becca shouts. She throws her arm around my shoulders and we grin into her camera.

Vi's waving her picture around like that'll make the image appear faster (it won't—the picture develops as a chemical reaction happens in the layers of the photograph under a compound of silver), and Becca's making a kissy face into the camera for Sadie, when Philippe joins us.

“Hello,
mes amies belles
,” Philippe says in his accent. “May I tell you again that you look very neece tonight.”

Becca grins and says,
“Mercias.”
And she probably has no idea that she just mixed up the French and Spanish words for “thank you.”

Philippe laughs. “Let me take a peecture of you all.”

Becca tosses him her camera. We all wrap our arms around each other and flash huge smiles under the moon and the twinkly lights, music and laughter floating around us. There's no one else I'd rather be with tonight. Even after all the crazy stuff—my awful grade, the Great Headlight Incident—I'd do it all over again just to have this night with my best friends.

“Say cheez!” he says.

“I have a better idea,” Vi says. “Ready, girls? One, two, three . . .”

“RSVP!”

We have so many people to thank for getting this book into the world, but first—and most important—thank
you
for reading
You're Invited Too
! You're the reason we write books in the first place, and the fact that you chose this one to read means everything to us.

Our little book would not be what it is without all the enthusiasm and guidance from our editor at Aladdin, Amy Cloud. Amy, thank you for not asking if we'd lost it when we told you the girls were going to plan a wedding. They're totally ready to plan yours, too (Sadie's already got a list made). And if it gets too crazy, Bubby's standing by to bail you out. Thank you for loving these characters as much as we do. Another huge thanks to everyone at Aladdin—Teresa Ronquillo, who patiently puts up with all our marketing questions; Faye Bi, publicist extraordinaire; Marilena Perilli for such gorgeous covers; Laura Lyn DiSiena for the adorable interiors; and managing editor Katherine Devendorf.

A grateful thank-you to Jack and Ben Malone, who made sure we got all the soccer action right. It's weird to thank Pinterest, but seriously, thank you, Pinterest people, for pinning all those awesome wedding ideas. And, of course, we have to thank the communities of Ocean Park, Maine, and Oak Island and Southport, North Carolina, for letting us squish them all together and come up with Sandpiper Beach. A bear hug (or twenty) to the teachers and librarians who champion children's books and recognize their enormous power—you make us look good, and we wouldn't be able to do what we do without your support! A huge thanks to our comrades in pens (computers?), the MG Beta Readers, for endless cheerleading and writerly commiseration. Love you guys!