A Very Perry Wedding by Marie Landry

CHAPTER EIGHT

On Saturday morning just before noon, I head downtown for the first of the Perry pre-wedding events. Downtown Bellevue is hosting its annual Fall Festival, complete with food stalls and a sidewalk sale from local eateries and shops, games and activities for kids, and live entertainment. All of Front Street is closed for the event, but I manage to snag a parking spot near the library, which is the group’s designated meeting spot since it’s one street over from the action of the festival.

I spot Gwen, Evan, Ivy, and Hugh in a loose huddle outside the library doors. They greet me with smiles and hugs. Even though my friends are wonderful and never make me feel like a fifth wheel, I’m glad I won’t be the only single one on today’s adventure. It’s not that I can’t hold my own among couples, but sometimes being the only singleton gives me a bittersweet feeling mixed with a case of FOMO. Especially with super loved-up couples like my friends.

“Where’s everyone else?” I ask.

“Lina dragged Hadley into the library because she wanted to make sure they’ve got copies of her book,” Evan says. “And Jasper got a phone call and wandered away.”

The words are barely out of his mouth before his sisters exit the library. Hadley catches Evan’s eyes and rolls her own, prompting a knowing grin from him. Her attention shifts to me, and she smiles. Before she can speak, Lina jumps in.

“The library has several copies of Moonlight Over Silver Lake, all of which are currently checked out!” She claps her hands excitedly before clasping them in front of her chest. “The head librarian isn’t in today, but the lovely woman I spoke to is a big fan and she said she’s sure they’ll be interested in having me in for a speaking engagement and signing early next year. She mentioned they were talking about doing a series on local authors, so I’d be a perfect addition.”

As she turns to Ivy and asks her about Pied Piper’s Books and the Village Bookshop, both of which Ivy is a partner in, I realize it’s a good thing Evan and Gwen warned me about how much Lina loves to talk about herself and her writing career. She still hasn’t even noticed me standing here.

“Hello, Willow.”

I whip around to find Jasper a few feet behind me. He’s tucking his phone into the back pocket of his jeans. His unironed jeans. Almost more shocking than that is the blue-and-green plaid flannel shirt he’s wearing, and the wind-tousled appearance of his hair.

“You look different,” I say. Because why greet someone like a normal person when you can comment on their appearance? “And hi. Sorry. You just took me by surprise.”

He peers down at his clothes and gives the hem of his shirt a quick tug. “Gwen offered to take me shopping when I arrived in town this morning, and I agreed. She suggested I might find greater comfort in more casual clothes, especially for what she and Evan have planned the next few weeks. I’m not sure it’s quite me, though.”

He does seem to be holding himself stiffer than usual. And he keeps fiddling with the bottom of his shirt as if he’s resisting the urge to tuck it in. Other than that, he looks pretty damn good to me. “For what it’s worth, I think the look suits you. And since we’ll be spending a lot of time outside, I’m sure you’ll appreciate having comfortable clothes, even if it’s an adjustment.”

“Thank you, Willow. I’m sure you’re right.”

Gwen catches my attention and waves me over to where she’s now standing beside Lina. “Since you two are the only ones who haven’t met yet, I wanted to introduce you before we get going,” Gwen says. “Lina, this is Willow, one of my oldest and dearest friends. Willow, this is Evan’s sister, Lina.”

“So nice to meet you,” I say, holding out my hand for her to shake.

“Always a pleasure to meet friends of Evan and Gwen,” she says with more warmth than I expected, considering all I’ve heard about her. She’s grinning broadly too, which means Jasper is the only Perry whose smiling muscles are rusty and underused. “Gwen tells me you’re a fan. We’ll have to find time to chat later.”

Before I can reply, Hadley says, “Now that everyone’s here, can we get this party started?”

We set off toward Front Street. Various food scents, along with the sound of happy chatter and laughter fill the air, making me smile. After living in Toronto for years, I grew accustomed to noise, even though it was sometimes overwhelming: constant traffic, honking horns, loud voices, people talking on cell phones everywhere you went. I enjoyed hearing the mix of languages and accents, especially since Bellevue is nowhere near as diverse a city as Toronto, but it felt like there was never a pause in the noise or the movement.

This is different, though. As I look around, I see people who appear to be present in the moment rather than hustling somewhere. Naturally, there are people who seem distracted and some who are glued to their phones—you can’t escape that no matter where you go these days—but the general vibe here is less chaotic. Moving back to Bellevue was the best choice for so many reasons. Toronto will always have a special place in my heart—it was the city I escaped to, got lost in, and found myself in—but I think I’m meant for quieter living. I planted a lot of seeds in Toronto, and Bellevue is where they’re really starting to bloom.

Speaking of blooms, my eye is drawn to a stand outside the flower shop. The variety of blossoms boast a rainbow of colors, but the clear theme is autumnal hues. I eye the sunflowers wistfully; I only have about thirty dollars to spend today, and I plan to sample as much food as possible. To make the festival more accessible to the general population, the eateries that have outdoor stalls are offering samples for two dollars apiece. My purse is currently weighed down with toonies, Canada’s large gold and silver two-dollar coins. There have been a lot of changes to downtown Bellevue in the three years I was gone, so I’m curious to check out all the new-to-me restaurants and find new favorites for when I can afford to enjoy them.

“I need food,” Gwen says, eyes wide as she takes in all the stalls and tables lining the street.

“I second that,” Ivy says. “Where to begin?”

We each point out different things within sight of where we’re standing. My stomach gurgles at all the possibilities. Even if these are just samples, I haven’t had this much choice in ages.

“Okay, I’ve decided where I’m starting,” Hadley says, fishing a toonie out of the pocket of her jeans. “That booth across the street with the purple awning has pumpkin cheesecake. And before you say I shouldn’t start with dessert—” She rounds on Jasper, pointing her finger at him as he purses his lips. “One of the perks of being an adult is getting to have dessert first if I want.”

“I didn’t say a word, nor did I plan to,” Jasper says, holding up his hands. I’m guessing this is a fight they’ve had before. Cautioning against spoiling your appetite with sweets does seem like something sensible Jasper would do.

“I’ll join you,” I tell Hadley. “I’m doing all things pumpkin at the café, and I’m always looking for inspiration.”

“Ivy and I are going to try the chickpea curry at the Indian place,” Hugh says. The way he says ‘curry’ with his Scottish accent makes me grin.

“I spy mushroom risotto over there,” Lina says, already drifting away from the group.

“The spot next to the Indian food has squash soup,” Gwen says. “Evan and I have been craving that since Willow mentioned it the other night. Let’s all get our food and meet back here.”

I’m halfway across the street with Hadley before I realize Jasper never said where he was starting. I shoot a quick glance over my shoulder and find him standing where the group was a moment ago, his gaze still roaming up and down the street. Hadley is already a few steps ahead of me, so I call out that I’ll meet her in a minute, and I return to the sidewalk where her brother is.

Jasper’s slight frown clears as he sees me approaching. It returns when I skip the preamble to ask, “Your therapist has encouraged you to step outside your comfort zone, right?”

“Uhh, yes, she has…”

“I’m guessing this whole situation is outside your comfort zone.” I sweep my arm out to encompass everything around us. “So many people, so much action. You get a gold star for being here and being willing to participate…which is something my friends and I say to each other, but I realize might sound patronizing to you. I swear I mean it in the least patronizing way possible.”

Jasper’s lips twitch at my rambling. “Thank you?”

“Now, since you’re already stepping outside your comfort zone just by being here, why don’t you really live dangerously and have dessert first with Hadley and me?”

I expect him to decline. To say it’s irresponsible or highly irregular or something else that sounds highbrow and, well, Jasper-like. But he simply inclines his head toward the street. “Lead the way.”

Hadley is waiting to the side of the booth with the purple awning, holding two small containers of pumpkin cheesecake and a pair of tiny wooden spoons. “I went ahead and got both of ours,” she says to me as we approach. Then to her brother, “Still can’t decide where to start?”

“Willow has convinced me to start with dessert,” Jasper says.

Hadley’s mouth drops open. Actually drops open like a nutcracker with a hinged jaw. It’s one of the most comical things I’ve ever seen. She snaps her mouth shut and thrusts one of the cheesecake cups at Jasper, then hands the other to me. “I’ll get myself another one. This one’s my treat.” As she turns back to the booth, I hear her murmur, “Jasper starting with dessert. Never thought I’d see the day.”

We drift back over to our designated meeting spot where Ivy and Hugh are already waiting. Gwen and Evan come along next. Evan is carrying a small cup of soup with a slice of crusty bread balanced on top, while Gwen looks at something on her phone.

“Did you decide against the soup?” I ask when they join us.

Evan makes a little snorting sound as he takes a bite of his bread. Gwen side-eyes him, but she can’t hide her own amusement. “I already ate it,” she says.

“Inhaled it,” Evan mumbles around a mouthful of bread.

She elbows him playfully in the chest. “Okay, inhaled it. I was running around doing stuff and then shopping with Jasper this morning, so I forgot to have breakfast. Plus you know I just love food.”

I match her easy shrug with one of my own. “It’s one of the many reasons we’re friends.”

“Has anyone seen Lina?” Hadley asks as she polishes off the rest of her cheesecake. I’ve been savoring mine, turning over in my mind how I’d put my own spin on mini pumpkin cheesecakes if I were to make them for Cravings.

“She just texted me,” Gwen says, holding up her phone. “She ran into Piper and wanted to take the opportunity to pick her brain about a potential event at the bookstore. She said she’ll meet up with us later.”

“Which means we now have an odd number for pairs,” Evan says.

“Pairs?” Jasper asks.

“We thought it would be fun to split into teams of two and do a scavenger hunt,” Gwen says. “I found the idea on Pinterest and tailored it to our group. Everyone gets the same list and you go off with your partner and take photographic evidence of your findings. The winning team will have their dinner tonight paid for by Evan and me.”

I perk up at that. The idea of an adult scavenger hunt was already appealing, but the idea of a free dinner…

“I used an app that has a random pair generator to choose the twosomes, but Lina being gone means one team will have three instead of two.”

We assure Gwen we’re fine with that, so she reads off the list: “Evan is with Hugh, Ivy is with me, Jasper and Willow are together, and Hadley, you were paired with Lina.”

“Does it make me a bad person if I’m glad Lina pulled her usual crap and wandered off?” Hadley asks, drawing laughter from everyone except Jasper, who gives his sister a look of disapproval. “Can I join Evan and Hugh’s team? I’m heading to Scotland for a job soon and I’d love to pick the brain of an actual Scotsman.”

“Aye, lass, we’d be happy to have ye on our team,” Hugh says in an overexaggerated burr.

Gwen taps away on her cell; a few seconds later, a chorus of beeps and buzzes sound from all our phones. “I just sent each of you the scavenger hunt list,” she says. “Find the items, take a picture, and then check them off on the list. You’ll notice there are a bunch of random items, and there’s also a nod to each of you somewhere on the list.” She gives an excited little bounce. “Okay, go forth and have fun! Eat a bunch of good food, get to know your partner better, and try to find as many items from your list as you can.”

I move to stand beside Jasper while the others break off into their designated pairs. As everyone scatters, Gwen catches my attention and tilts her head down the street. “One of the items on the list is ‘seasonal beverage’ and I just spotted a cider stand owned by the farm we’re going to next weekend. Will you come with us and then we’ll split up?”

Jasper and I follow Gwen and Ivy to the booth for Nansom Farms—a huge farm and market situated in the county next to Bellevue—where a young woman with light-brown skin is serving cups of hot and cold apple cider. While the family of five in front of us collect their cups, Gwen asks what we want, then puts in our order for four hot ciders.

As the young woman ladles the steaming liquid into thick paper cups, Gwen says, “We’re planning a group trip to the farm next weekend.”

The girl’s face lights up. “That’s so fun! If I could just make a suggestion…” She leans across the table like what she’s about to share is top secret. “The farm gets hella busy on the weekends from here on out. It’s a huge draw for people, especially families. I know not everyone can take time off during the week, but if you could manage to come mid-week, you wouldn’t have to deal with crowds or fight off little kids for the best pumpkins.”

Gwen chuckles. “I am pretty particular about my pumpkins. Thanks for the tip. I’ll talk to everyone and see if we can rearrange the schedule.”

When all of us have our ciders in hand, Gwen tells us to hold our cups out so she can snap a picture. “First scavenger item checked off,” she says. Her eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief as they meet mine. “Have fun, you two. We’ll see you later.”

Something tells me Gwen’s ‘random pairings’ weren’t so random after all. I wanted to spend more time with Jasper anyway, so I can’t complain. We stroll in the opposite direction from where Gwen and Ivy have set off, their arms linked and heads bent close as they launch into conversation. I wonder what Jasper would do if I slid my arm through his. Probably fumble his hot apple cider and scald us both.

I pull out my phone as we walk. Gwen has already sent me the picture of our ciders, so I save it to my gallery. I switch over to the screenshot of her list and smile as I scan the items—random things like an animal wearing a sweater, a pile of leaves, Halloween decorations, live music—with the things that pertain to each of us mixed in. ‘Black cat’ is definitely for Ivy in honor of her cat Fiddlesticks; ‘something bookish’ is clearly for Lina; and I’m guessing ‘something nerdy or fandom-related’ is a nod to me.

I glance at Jasper. He’s holding his phone, although his eyes are trained on the road ahead. “Which one of these pertains to you?”

The slight tightening around his eyes tells me he just held back a wince. “I believe it’s the bank,” he says quietly.

“Oh.” My mouth stays open to say more, but no words come. I try to infuse my voice with lightness as I say, “The bank is up ahead on the corner of Campbell and Front, so that’s easy.”

We walk on in silence. Jasper has that faraway look in his eyes again. After a few more steps, I gently bump his arm with my shoulder. “Toonie for your thoughts?”

He gives a few hard blinks like he’s coming out of a daze. “I’m sorry?”

“You know how the saying is ‘penny for your thoughts’? Well, since we don’t have pennies anymore…” I trail off, shrugging. Canada discontinued the penny in 2013. To this day, I still miss finding a penny and picking it up or throwing them into wishing fountains. These days, I’d be more likely to go fishing for nickels, dimes, and quarters in fountains rather than throwing any of those coins in willingly.

Jasper releases a quiet puff of air I think is meant to be a laugh. “Clever.” He’s silent for a minute, making me think he’s gone back to his introspection until he says, “The bank. The thing my brother and his fiancée associate with me is a bank. It wasn’t meant as an insult or a slight of any sort, and yet knowing that’s all they could think of in regard to me…it made me realize how little they know about me.”

After a minute of walking on in silence, I grip the sleeve of Jasper’s shirt and steer him onto the sidewalk, out of the flow of traffic. “I don’t know about you, but I can’t walk and drink at the same time,” I say in answer to his quizzical look. “Maybe we could just take a minute to enjoy our ciders.”

Jasper eyes me over his cup as he takes a sip of his drink. After swallowing, he asks, “Do you have siblings, Willow?”

“Nope, only child,” I tell him. Then, hoping opening up will encourage him to do the same, I add, “My parents divorced when I was thirteen, and it’s pretty much been my mom and me ever since. My dad decided to be a total cliché by getting remarried almost immediately, starting a new family, and basically forgetting his old one existed.”

“That must have been difficult,” Jasper says.

“It was. But we all have our things, right? You know about Gwen’s family—her mom leaving when she was little and her dad dying shortly after she finished college. Ivy’s parents both died when she was young, and she was raised by frigid relatives. And you…well…”

“I was the frigid relative,” Jasper says. At my skeptical look, he tilts his head, conceding. “Okay, not necessarily frigid. Terrified to suddenly find myself the guardian of my two youngest siblings. Worried I’d somehow mess up and they’d hate me forever. Grieving over the loss of not only my parents, but also the life I had to leave behind in order to take care of Hadley and Evan. I don’t regret it for a moment, but there are many things I’d change if I could.”

I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to hug someone as much as I do right now. Jasper’s eyes are hazy again, and I’m guessing he’s seeing the past in his mind’s eye. Trips down memory lane aren’t always pleasant.

“I’m not sure how much Gwen has told you, but for many years, my siblings and I only saw each other at Christmas,” Jasper says. “We always rent a house somewhere for a week or so around the holidays.”

“Gwen has told me about how everything changed last Christmas,” I say.

“Largely thanks to her,” he says. “She was a facilitator of sorts. She brought us together in a way we were never able to do ourselves. Every Christmas, the Perry siblings came together physically—we had our traditions and we even had moments of fun—but then we’d leave our rented home and go about our lives until the next year.”

“But you’ve spent a lot more time together this year, right? Gwen and Evan have visited you in Toronto and you’ve come here. Hadley lives with you now and Evan has gone with you a few times to therapy. I bet a year ago you wouldn’t have been able to imagine being at the hospital when your first niece was born.”

Some of the tension eases out of Jasper’s face as I speak. I’m not telling him anything he doesn’t already know, and yet it’s as if hearing it from me—a virtual stranger, someone not close to the situation—makes him see it more clearly. He’s even doing that almost-smile thing where his eyes and mouth soften.

“You’re right,” he says. “I’m grateful for the time I’ve had with them and that they’ve continued to include me in their lives this past year. It’s still novel and surprising and…wonderful. But a simple, innocent thing like this scavenger hunt shows me how little they still know about me. And how it’s largely my own doing.”

“How so?”

He makes a restless gesture with his shoulders and indicates he’d like to start walking again. I fall into step beside him. “I think part of me is afraid this is all an illusion. That a misstep or certain circumstances will cause things to go back to the way they were before, with the five of us only seeing each other at Christmas. Despite being the eldest of my siblings, they all have more of a life than I do—partners, careers they enjoy, hobbies, travel, a new addition for Malcolm and Sherée. And I…well, I…” He blows out a breath and crumples his empty cup in his hand. “I’ve been examining my life lately, and it’s shown me how small it is. How unfulfilling.”

Someone knocks into Jasper, causing him to bump into me. He angles toward me, reaching out a hand to steady me as I stumble to the side. We’re now somehow face to face, and his eyes are wide as they meet mine. My intense focus on what Jasper was saying has put me in a trance-like state for the last few minutes. The noise of the festival rushes back into my awareness, along with the constant motion and bright colors around us.

“Listen to me carrying on,” Jasper says. “I should give you all my toonies in exchange for this impromptu therapy session.”

The self-deprecating humor in his words surprises me and makes me laugh. His hand is still on my shoulder, warm and solid and comforting. I doubt he realizes it or I’m sure he’d have wrenched it away by now. He’d probably put more distance between us too, since we’re standing close as people surge around us. “I’m happy to listen free of charge. That’s what friends are for.”

“Friends,” he says softly. “Gwen said something similar to me last Christmas after an unexpected heart to heart.”

“Let me guess, then she hugged you?” The thought makes me want to laugh. Considering how stiff Jasper was while hugging his own brother last week, I can imagine Gwen latching on and not releasing him until he softened.

I expect Jasper to get flustered and quickly change the subject or get us moving again before I suggest we hug each other. But I’ve underestimated him once again because I’m the one who’s flustered when he says, “As a matter of fact, she did. Should we?”

“Hug.” What was meant to be a question—to make sure I hadn’t misunderstood—comes out sounding like a grunt.

“Yes. We don’t have to, of course. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I suppose we are in a rather public place and we don’t know each other that well yet—”

I cut off his rambling by closing the small space between us and wrapping my arms around his shoulders. As expected, even though he was the one who suggested hugging, Jasper’s whole body goes tense. It takes him a moment to put his arms around me in return. But unlike the quick, stiff embrace I expected, Jasper gathers me close, his arms wrapping fully around my back, and his cheek settling on my shoulder. I’m a natural, almost compulsive hugger, and even I can’t remember the last time I was hugged like this. It doesn’t feel like a hug between people who just met. It feels like the type of hug someone who knows and cares about you gives you when your broken pieces need to be put back together.

I swallow hard as Jasper gives me a light pat on the back and releases me. The tension is completely gone from his face, although his cheeks now hold a hint of color. His eyes lock with mine before sweeping over our surroundings, his lips curved the slightest bit. He’s completely oblivious to the fact he just stirred up all kinds of feelings in me.

With his gaze trained over my shoulder, he leans toward me. I expect a confession of some sort—maybe he’s a big ball of thoughts and emotions right now too—but the whispered words out of his mouth are, “There’s a woman behind you with a sweater-clad dog. Shall I take the picture for proof or do you want to?”

It takes a minute for my brain to catch up with his meaning. The scavenger hunt. Right. A laugh bubbles out of me as I turn and see a tiny ball of black fluff encased in a hot pink sweater. Pushing the unexpected hurricane of emotions aside for closer inspection at a later time, I tell Jasper he can be in charge of scavenger hunt photography.

Over the next hour, I’m delighted to discover Jasper is a fellow foodie. We stroll down Front Street, checking items off on the scavenger hunt list and sampling food from most of the stalls we pass.

“I haven’t missed much about Toronto since moving back to Bellevue, but I do miss all the street food options,” I say as we walk away from a Vietnamese food stall. “There are hardly any food trucks around here, although Ivy mentioned something about a bunch of them down by the waterfront in the summer.”

I pause to take a bite of my mini veggie banh mi, watching as Jasper bites into his sandwich. I try to picture him lining up at a food truck during his lunch break, waiting for falafel or a gyro or a taco in his perfectly pressed suit. “You work downtown, right? Lots of street food options there. Do you take advantage often?”

He shakes his head, popping the last bite into his mouth and then carefully wiping his hands on a napkin. “Until today, any desire I had for street food ended after an experience with a dodgy kebab that left me wishing I were dead.”

I try to hold in my laughter, I really do, but between his grave tone and the way he punctuates the words with a full-body shudder, I can’t stop the giggles that erupt. I cover my mouth with my napkin, but it’s no use.

Jasper side-eyes me, his lips twitching. “I’m glad my pain and suffering could provide an amusing anecdote for you,” he says dryly, which only makes me laugh harder. “Besides, I’m sure it’ll come as no surprise to you that for the most part, I find street food messier than I’d like. I have no problem with messy food in general, although I prefer to eat it without spectators.”

“Makes sense,” I say around another giggle. I pause to throw my napkin in a nearby trashcan. Jasper keeps walking for a moment until he realizes I’m not beside him. When he peers back at me, I ask, “Are you like this with your siblings?”

He tilts his head to the side, giving me a wary look. “Like what?”

“Relaxed. Funny.”

His eyebrows wing up. “Funny? Funny? I don’t think that’s an adjective my siblings would ever use to describe me.” He starts walking again and I fall into step beside him. After a few moments of silence, he says, “You know, I’m beginning to realize I’m still…careful, I guess, around my siblings. I don’t intend to be withdrawn or hold myself back around them, but perhaps part of me is worried about saying the wrong thing.”

He stops in front of a coffee cart and asks if I’d like a drink. He orders and pays, and then we carry on with our wandering, steaming paper cups in hand.

“I wasn’t exactly a dictator as Evan and Hadley’s guardian, although now I see I was likely too strict with them,” he continues. “Caring for them was a huge responsibility, and I wanted—needed—to keep them safe. I think I’ve assumed they still see me that way and I’ve simply…continued to play that role?”

“You don’t need to play that role anymore, though. You can be the fun brother now, or better yet, their friend. You were thrust into the role of parent all those years ago, but you’re not their parent. They’re adults with their own lives, and they don’t need to be protected anymore. They’re not going to suddenly abandon you because you say the wrong thing or happen to piss them off, Jasper. You don’t always have to take everything so seriously.” I say that last part as gently as possible so he doesn’t think I’m being harsh or judgmental. Still, his brows draw together and his mouth dips down in the corners, making me wonder if I overstepped.

Up ahead, a booth boasting an array of colorful hats, boas, scarves and other items catches my eye. As we approach, my eyes home in on a black top hat adorned with fall foliage and tiny birds. After ditching my now-empty paper cup in a recycling bin, I pull Jasper to a stop with one hand while plucking the hat from the table with the other. Without a word, I plunk the hat on Jasper’s head, watching in amusement as his eyes grow wide.

The guy running the booth leans across the table, grinning at Jasper as he says, “Suits you, mate.” He’s got a sexy Captain Hook from Once Upon a Time vibe with his British accent, thick eyeliner, and sweeping leather duster. He’s wearing a similar top hat to the one on Jasper’s head, except his has small woodland creatures instead of birds mixed with the foliage. He ducks out of sight and returns a second later holding a large mirror, which he aims at Jasper.

I expect Jasper to take the hat off when he sees his reflection. I’m shocked he didn’t knock it off his head the minute it landed there. Instead, he smiles at the sight of himself and tilts the hat so it’s sitting at a jaunty angle. He nods to Captain Hook, who shoots him a wink and spins away to greet the kids who just approached the booth.

Jasper scans the table and makes a small sound of triumph before plucking a crown of bright red and orange leaves from the pile. “Elizabeth might be too young to appreciate a flower crown—or a leaf crown, as it were—but I have a feeling you’ll enjoy this. It even matches your lovely auburn hair.” He places it on my head and, with gentle fingers, gets it settled in my hair. The soft smile he’s wearing when he steps back to admire it makes my cheeks tingle with heat.

“We’ll take these two, please.” Jasper is still looking at me as he says this, so his words don’t make sense until a flash of color catches my eye and I realize the stall’s owner has returned. Jasper fishes out his wallet and hands the guy some money. I’m too stunned to protest over him paying for mine.

Before we step away from the stall, I take out my phone and switch it to selfie mode so I can see my leaf crown. Jasper was right about it matching my hair; the way the sun hits it makes both my hair and the crown glow in shades of gold, brown, red, and orange. I wonder how Gwen would feel about me wearing this to her wedding because I never want to take it off.

As we begin walking again, I give in to the impulse I had earlier and link my arm through Jasper’s. He gives me a brief raised-eyebrow glance before his gaze returns to the street ahead. A few people grin or chuckle when they see our headwear. I expect Jasper to be embarrassed and maybe even take the hat off, but he leaves it on, nodding to people as we pass. When he tips the hat in greeting to a little girl who has stopped to stare, I laugh under my breath, drawing his attention.

“You’re having fun.” My words are a statement rather than a question.

“You were right about me taking things too seriously,” he says. “So while it’s a bit of a foreign concept for me, yes, I am having fun. Thank you, Willow. I’m glad we were selected as teammates. It’s nice to have a friend—someone who’s not related to me or about to be, like Gwen. I know you and I were paired together, so it wasn’t your choice per se…”

“Just to make things clear, Jasper, being friends with you is a choice. One that goes beyond Gwen’s random pair generator, and one I’m making willingly, knowingly, and happily.” I give his arm a squeeze and he pats my hand. His touch lingers for a moment before he drops his hand back to his side.

Friends. Jasper and I are friends. I repeat this to myself as we carry on, arm in arm, down Front Street.