Four to One: Outvoted at My Own Wedding novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: Five to Nothing

Jo walks home and says yes to June 14 on purpose; the first unanimous vote in six years, her ring back on her finger and her savings tabled for Sunday, until Rafe texts that he knows she isn't folding.

I woke up at six to the smell of coffee and a note under the door.

It said: "Mug on the counter. Dock gate sticks, lift and pull. R."

I sat on the edge of the bed with my shoes in my hand and thought about what Mom's perfectly calm voice meant.

It meant she had no doubt I'd come home.

So I decided to give her what she was sure of.

I went down and found Rafe on the dock, coiling a line that didn't need coiling.

"I'm going back," I said.

He kept his eyes on the rope. "Okay."

"I'm going to tell them yes."

That made him look up.

"Yes to June fourteenth. Yes to all of it."

"After last night?"

"They've never needed my vote," I said. "So I'll hand them one. Then they'll all be in the same room on the same day, with the date held and the hall paid for, and no idea what I know."

"That's a plan?"

"That's the start of one."

He studied me, and something in his face went from careful to something I couldn't name.

"You used to say you'd never fold on a thing that mattered."

"I used to say a lot of things when I was twenty-three," I said.

He didn't answer.

I took the coffee with me and left before I had to see how that landed.

Dad's car was in the driveway, and so was Brett's.

I walked in through the kitchen like I'd never left.

All four of them were at the table.

Dad had a legal pad. Mom had a teapot.

Dawn had her hands wrapped around a mug and her eyes on me, wide and soft.

Brett stood up so fast his chair scraped.

"Jo. Babe. Thank God."

"Sit down, Brett," I said.

He sat.

I put my keys on the counter next to the stack of mail.

"I've thought about it," I said. "I was upset, and it wasn't fair to any of you."

Nobody moved.

"June fourteenth is fine," I said. "I'll do it."

The silence lasted maybe three seconds.

Then Mom let out a laugh, small and relieved, and stood and wrapped her arms around me.

She smelled like lavender and fabric softener.

"I knew it," she said into my hair. "I told your father you'd come around."

"You did tell me," Dad said, and wrote something on the pad.

Brett was already on his feet, his hands on my shoulders.

"You won't regret this. I swear."

Mom reached into her cardigan pocket and held out her palm.

My engagement ring lay in it.

"I put it somewhere safe for you," she said.

I let her slide it back on my finger.

It was cold, and it fit exactly the way it always had.

"All right," Dad said. "For the record."

He tapped the pad with his pen.

"Motion: the wedding stays June fourteenth, Joanna in agreement. All in favor?"

Four hands went up.

I raised mine too.

"Five to nothing," Dad said, and he underlined it twice. "First unanimous vote in six years."

Dawn smiled over her mug.

It was the smile she'd worn at dinner, the one that never reached her eyes.

"Second motion," Dad said. "The wedding fund. Joanna's savings go into the family account I manage, so there's one clean pot for the deposits and the dress."

I counted to three in my head.

"Can we hold that one until I pick the dress?" I said. "I want to see what it costs first."

Dad's pen stopped.

Mom looked at him.

He looked at Brett, and Brett shrugged with his whole body.

"Reasonable," Brett said. "Frank, it's reasonable."

"Tabled, then," Dad said. "Next Sunday."

He wrote that down too.

I let out my breath through my nose and took the mail from the counter.

Three flyers, one pizza menu, and an electric bill addressed to my mother.

I turned the stack over so nobody could see my face.

"Who gets the mail from the box every day, Mom?" I said, as lightly as I could.

"I do," she said. "Why? You never wanted to."

"I'm only asking."

"You've always been bad with paperwork, Joanna. I handle it."

That was true.

I had thought, for six years, that it was a kindness.

I took my keys and said I had a shift at the clinic.

Dawn followed me out to the driveway.

She was barefoot on the cold gravel, her braid over one shoulder.

"You really mean it?" she said. "June fourteenth?"

"I said so, didn't I?"

"You hate surprises."

"I'm learning to like them," I said.

She stood there a moment longer.

Then she said, "You'll look beautiful, Jo," and went back inside.

I sat in my car and shook for a full minute, my hands wrapped around the steering wheel.

My phone buzzed.

It was a number I'd never saved, and I knew it anyway.

"Dawn just called the hall to confirm the bride is back on board," Rafe had written. "I'm not asking you to explain. I'm asking if it's true."

I typed: "It's true. I said yes."

I watched the dots appear and disappear and appear again.

Then he wrote: "Come by tonight. I don't think you're folding, and I want to hear what you are doing."

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