Matrimony Homies

2: Plans (Harry)

A gaping metaphorical hole opens in my tummy. I place my hand there, confident it's not the burger that's making me feel this way. My eyes meet Loren's over our plates, and I spot the same fear mirrored there.

"We can't --" Loren starts just at the same time I'm saying, "This isn't possible --"

"It's her wedding," I allow the Freak to talk. "We can't plan it."

"She seems to think we can," I feel the need to remind her.

"Your sister has always had a wild imagination."

"That's not true!"

My puffed-up defensive attitude draws a laugh from my childhood friend. "Always jumping to her defense immediately like a dutiful brother. Honestly, Harry, I have no idea why she thinks this is a good idea."

"Me either, although I have to say..." I hold up the tote bag, confident my joke will land, "I'm 'totes' down with being a Matrimony Homie."

Loren's eyes roll like a pinball machine. "You've always been a dork. Guess that hasn't changed."

"Give me your phone number," I demand, holding my unlocked phone in her direction, open to my contacts. "And your email address." The number of times I'd imagined getting her current information... Who knew it would be this easy? Something to thank Gemma for, I guess.

Reluctantly, Loren trades phones with me. She's still shaking her head in disbelief and typing in her info as Gemma returns with the bottle and three glasses.

"This is going to be awesome!" The bride grins, setting down the glasses before popping the top on the bottle and pouring the honey-coloured liquid which foams exactly the perfect amount.

Meanwhile, I text Loren just to be sure that she hasn't given me a wrong number, and the happiness in my tumtum when her phone buzzes doesn't even fade when she glances at her phone and then lowers her brows in my direction before she wades into the main topic, "Gemma -- most brides want to plan their own weddings. Surely you're the one with the best ideas of what it should look like, feel like, be like."

"I'm gonna agree with 'Surely' here," I interject, rubbing my ankle after Loren kicks me for my innocent joke about the word 'surely'. I remember watching the 1980 'Airplane' movie, a classic by that time, with her and Gems. Mum made us popcorn, and the three of us cuddled on the floor with our treats before bedtime, ravenously laughing at the silly jokes while wearing our footed pyjamas.

"I know it's unconventional," Gemma sighs, "but honestly, I'm not into that stuff like the two of you are. I believe you'll give me a better wedding than if I put in the effort myself, partly because you'll take it seriously while I'd just procrastinate." From the chair next to her, she picks up a large book. "Here's a wedding planner to guide you. Look, it's got a place to write down what you're doing and add fabric swatches if you want. And I already wrote the most important piece of information here." Twisting the book to face her attendants, Gemma points to the first page where the date is written.

"Gemma!" The astonishment in Loren's voice matches my emotions. "That's only a little over a year away."

"True. But that was the hardest part. We checked your schedule with Jeffrey," she gestures toward me, "and Loren's schedule with her assistant, and that was one date that was open for both of you. Besides, it's not like you're super busy with something right now."

I lower my head, pouting. "Well, no. But I planned on taking a holiday and writing some new music."

Loren is bristling, the energy emanating from her even before she speaks. "Gems, you know I love you..."