“I won’t let that happen.”
“Oh? And how are you going to stop it? I have every right to pull you in right now. With your record, you’d be in just long enough to lose this job and meet some new friends who might have bunked with your dad.”
Zane had the good sense to look worried before he did a great job of studying the dirt on his steel-toed shoes.
“I need two things from you.”
Zane lifted his chin, and she continued, “None of you show up for the wedding. Zoe doesn’t need the stress and Mel deserves her day.”
He nodded. “And the other?”
Jo glanced around the truck yard. “You have a set schedule here?”
“Late shifts Tuesdays and Thursdays. Early days Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays for shipments.”
“Six a.m. Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
His eyes narrowed.
“River Bend High on the track.” Jo patted his arm, made sure he understood this wasn’t negotiable. “Bring your running shoes.”
“Excuse me?”
Jo lifted both her palms to the sky and moved them in opposing directions. “Life is full of options, Brown. You meet me at six on Tuesday or I meet you . . . your choice.”
Jo turned on her heel and was fairly certain she heard Zane cuss at her as she walked away.
The rehearsal and subsequent dinner went off without a hitch. Even the former Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett pulled it together long enough to get through their first dinner together in eleven years.
Mel made the menu choices and Zoe made it happen. Well, she directed her soon to be overworked staff to make it happen.
And Jo played maid of honor.
Mel didn’t want to pick between them for the top spot, but the certificate of marriage only had one line for a witness to sign on the bride side. Zoe backed out to give Mel the ease of knowing she wasn’t offended. Besides, Jo lived in River Bend and deserved the honor.
Once the dinner was over and the majority of guests who weren’t staying at Miss Gina’s had left, Zoe and Mel left the inn to have their final night as single women at Jo’s house.
They opened a bottle of wine Zoe had been saving since she arrived in River Bend and paired it with microwave popcorn.
The singular focus was on Mel.
Zoe watched her all night and couldn’t help but think she glowed.
They dressed down the second they made it to Jo’s house. Braless, with their faces clean of makeup, they turned on music they all enjoyed and curled up in Jo’s living room.
“It’s really weird drinking in this house, Jo.” Zoe looked at the mantel, which held the flag that was once draped over Sheriff Joseph Ward’s casket. It sat in a triangular frame with a plaque given to her the day of the funeral.
Zoe would never have considered drinking in Sheriff Ward’s home unless invited by his own daughter.
Jo gave a sideways glance at the symbol that reminded them all of her dad.
“I didn’t have a problem with that when I was a kid . . . get over it.”
Mel laughed and lifted her glass for Zoe to fill.
“I thought wine was safer than tequila,” Zoe said.
“God, yes.”
Zoe tipped the bottle to Jo’s glass next.
“When was the last time we sat around—just the three of us—drinking tequila?” Mel asked.
“Graduation.”
Zoe shivered, filled her glass.
“God, I feel old,” Jo said.
“High school graduation . . . how is that possible?”
“It’s simple. Mel went to college.”
“Lot of good that did.”
Jo waved her off. “And you moved away as fast as the Greyhound bus could take you.”
Zoe set the bottle down. “Ironic, isn’t it? I always thought you’d be the one to leave first, and you’re the one who stayed.”
More than one set of eyes lingered on the flag over the fireplace.
“Do you think about him?” Mel asked.
“All the time.”
They marinated in their own thoughts for a brief moment before Mel said, “Can you believe my parents made it through the night?”
“No!” Jo protested first.
“They better continue throughout tomorrow.”
Jo pushed her feet under her butt on a side chair. “I think Miss Gina put the fear of God in both of them the minute they hit the door of the inn.”
“And if she didn’t, I did.”
Both Mel and Jo turned to her.
“What?”
Jo and Mel had expectant eyes. “What did you say?”
“I said . . . ‘You ruined the night of our graduation, don’t screw up her wedding. Whatever issues you might have, deal with away from here.’”
Mel’s jaw dropped. “You did not.”
“I most certainly did.”
“What did my mom say?”
“She told me I was exaggerating. To which I let her know that we went through a half a bottle of Cuervo the night of our graduation, and you puked for hours the next morning.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did. Why not? It was shitty of them to tell you they were splitting when you were handed your diploma. People can split, that’s fine, but have some respect for life’s milestones.”
Jo started to laugh until she lifted her hand in a high five.
“God, I love you.”
“Yeah, well, I expect the same of you if I ever get married. My family would be a disaster. I’d be better off eloping.”