“I’m sorry, what did you say?” He cocked his head.
He’d been lost in his thoughts—they both had been—so she repeated herself. “Sometimes you have to open your eyes and—”
“No, the first part.”
Huh? “What first part?”
“The part where you said, ‘You were right.’”
She swatted him, but she couldn’t help laughing as she did so. “Once. You were right once. Don’t let it go to your head.”
They were facing the city, looking across and down at the shiny high-rises of downtown Toronto. He really had seemed like he was somewhere else a moment ago, and now he was rubbing the back of his neck, like he was tense. She followed his gaze back out to the skyline. “How long have you been back in Canada?”
He answered without looking at her. “This is day three.”
“It must be hard to adjust.” When he didn’t respond, she added, “I mean, look at this. It’s probably like night and day from the landscape you’re used to.” Then she shook her head. “Well, of course it is. That was a stupid thing to say.”
He turned then. “Not stupid. You’re right. Coming back is…hard.”
She opened her mouth to ask more, but he made a beckoning motion with his arm and said, “Let’s check out the other side.”
She followed him. “I read that on a clear day, you can see all the way to Niagara Falls from here.”
They squinted in the appropriate direction but didn’t see anything that looked like it was one of the modern wonders of the world.
“Niagara Falls,” he said. “I’ve never been there. Always wanted to see it.”
She sort of assumed that everyone who lived in Ontario had been to Niagara Falls, but of course Thunder Bay, where he’d grown up, was a lot farther away. And since the family had been poor, he probably hadn’t gone on trips there as a kid like she had.
“It’s really something,” she said. “The falls, I mean. The rest of it is cheese ball central.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the town that’s developed around the falls is a total tourist trap. Casinos, tacky souvenirs, carnivals, that sort of thing. They even have an observation tower, but it’s like the shrimpy little sibling of this one.” She patted the railing. “And I don’t think they let you dangle off the side.”
“Let’s do it.”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“It’s not that far from Toronto, is it? What, maybe an hour and a half?”
“Yessss,” she said warily.
“Remember how you just said I was right?”
“Once. You were right about one thing.”
“Maybe two?”
“I’m not taking you to Niagara Falls.”
“No, I’m taking you to Niagara Falls,” he said, like the decision had already been made. “Tomorrow.”
“I can’t. I have…stuff to do.”
“Beyond babysitting me?”
“I’m not babysitting you,” she lied—for the zillionth time.
“What stuff do you have to do?”
“I have my costume for Comicon to finish.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’m sure it can wait one day.”
She shook the photo she was clutching. “I have to plaster this all over my author social media accounts.” Which would take all of five minutes. But oh! “I have wedding stuff.” The universal excuse. She pulled out her phone and opened the calendar app. Crap, she actually did have wedding stuff. Calligraphy lessons, to be precise. Lessons Elise had enrolled them in because it would be “fun.” Not because the convenient side effect of the lessons would be a gaggle of bridesmaids armed with the skills necessary to produce three hundred hand-lettered place cards.
Ding.
At that very moment, a new calendar invite popped up.
“Papermaking?” she read aloud. What in heaven’s name?
Then a text from Elise arrived. She swiped over to it.
Hey squad! I added a papermaking session to the calligraphy class tomorrow. When you see these artisanal place cards we can make, you will DIE. I need you all to bring egg cartons though, and any paper towel or toilet paper rolls you might have. We need fibrous things to get the proper vintage look. And one of you needs to pick up some white felt. Okay? C U soon! Xo
Another text arrived, this one from Gia,
White felt. On it.
Jane looked up. “Pick me up at eight tomorrow morning. I’ll text you my address.”
Chapter Six
Normally, Jane was a second-guesser. It wasn’t like her to do something as impulsive as a random weekday day trip to Niagara Falls. And if she did decide to do something so out of character, she usually spent the hours following agonizing over it.
That was not happening in this case.
“See?” said Elise, holding up a small square of ragged-edge beige paper so all the girls clustered around the table could see it. “This sample is a little too mushroomy, but that’s what the white felt is for. They say that we can get it to look more solidly ecru if we add more white felt. You should see it. It’s really something. It’s like this big blender you put all this stuff into to make the pulp that will form the paper.” She sighed happily and took a sip of her wine. “I was going to use regular recycled cardstock, but I love that this option is even more environmentally friendly.”
“But not really,” said Wendy, setting her empty pint glass on the bar table with a thunk. “I mean, if you have to buy felt for it—”
“Already bought!” Gia chirped, shooting Wendy a quelling look and producing said felt from her handbag. Gia always carried one of those giant, ugly designer bags that cost as much as a small sedan. She placed a square of felt in front of Elise. “Now, I made a little bit of an executive decision here. This is a one hundred percent wool felt from Mongolia.” Elise cooed as she ran her hand over it. “I thought that would be a better option than synthetic. I’m friends with one of Karl’s drapers, and he hooked me up with a local source.”
“Lagerfeld?” Elise asked, even though they all knew that if Gia was referencing a Karl, it could only be Lagerfeld.
Gia nodded.
“OMG, Ladybug, you are the best.” “Ladybug” was Elise’s pet name for Gia, dating back to their university years, and it only came out when Elise was extra emotional. Elise looked around at all of them, getting a little teary, and placed her hand over her heart. “You’re all the best. Honestly, I love how everyone is coming together around this wedding.”
“I’m so sorry I’m going to have to miss the big papermaking and calligraphy session tomorrow,” Jane said, coughing to cover the yelp that bubbled up her throat when Wendy stamped on her foot under the table.
“I know,” Elise said, turning and grabbing Jane’s hand. “But that’s what I mean. Everyone on this team is really contributing, leveraging her strengths for the common good.” She brought her hand back to her heart, but took Jane’s along, too. “And you especially, Jane. You have the hardest job of them all. Thank you.”
“Oh, he’s not that bad,” Jane said.
“No, he is that bad,” Elise said emphatically. “He’s hardly spoken to Jay, and you should have seen how he smirked at me when we were introduced this afternoon. But I knew you would be able to manage him. You just…you have such an air of responsibility about you. You’re my most levelheaded friend.”
“Uh, thanks?” Jane ventured, tugging a little to try to get her hand back.
“Let’s do shots!” Elise clapped her hands together, which had the side effect of releasing Jane’s hand. “On me! I’ll run and get them at the bar. Be right back, squad!”
Jane had trained herself not to wince when Elise referred to them as a “squad,” but she still bristled internally. If they weren’t careful, Elise would decide it would be “fun” to re-enact Taylor Swift’s Bad Blood video as part of the wedding festivities. And with Gia in town, they even had their own model.
The moment Elise was out of sight, Jane and her fellow bridesmaids slumped back in their chairs.
“Are you going to finish that?” Gia asked, eyeing Jane’s untouched wine. She hadn’t been planning to drink but hadn’t wanted Elise to get on her case for being a party pooper.
“Be my guest,” Jane said, but before Gia could grab the glass, Wendy swooped in, stole it, and chugged it.
Then she slammed it down next to her already-empty beer glass and said, “Mongolian wool, Gia?”
“Actually…” Gia leaned forward and gestured for them to come in close. “It’s from Dollarama.” Then she rummaged around in her fifty-gallon handbag and produced a crinkly plastic bag, presumably holding the rest of the felt, with the chain store’s logo on it.
“Oh my God, I freaking love you,” said Wendy, throwing her head back and performing the signature cackle that always made Jane smile.
“Look who I found at the bar!”
They all started a little—they’d been so huddled in on each other that they hadn’t noticed Elise’s return. Gia shoved the dollar store bag into her purse with such force that she started to slip off her chair. The only thing stopping her was the insertion of a large, masculine arm breaking her fall.