I Object [gxg]

18. The Reception: Effing Cam Edition

I don't have flashbacks as our limo rolls across town. Cam breaks out a bottle of champagne, and we drink a premature toast to the newlyweds as we pull up to the reception hall. I cast Carlow's a longing glance as I step outside, knowing Amy is in there. But it doesn't matter. I'm only here until tomorrow, and whatever she is to me...she deserves more than one night.

Cam tugs me toward the reception hall, and I follow without resistance. I don't even complain as I sit between him and Connor, trying to dodge their knees under the table because they aren't aware of how much space they take up. Nessa must be a tiny sleeper, because there's no way an average person could fit comfortably in a bed with Connor.

Of course, a healthy amount of wine helps me get through. I'm moving on. Still in the process.

The tinkle of silverware against glass doesn't throw my heart into a tailspin. My throat isn't closing up as I stand. I take the microphone with confidence and open my mouth.

And realize that it's been days since I've even thought about my toast, and it's completely fled my brain.

I only remember the first few words—the ones I couldn't get past the first time—but that's a start, right? And who needs rote memorization for a toast, anyway? It's supposed to come from the heart. From feeling.

"I've known these two since college," I say, then pause. This is good, I've already made it farther than the first time and I haven't started airing any dirty laundry yet. It's amazing what a week's worth of constant wedding will do for you.

"And knowing them both, I can say that Nessa is..."

Beautiful. Funny. Kind. Defensive of the people she cares about like a lioness.

"...brave."

The audience laughs, and it's not that awkward kind of "when will she stop" chuckle that people do when you're making offensive jokes. That seems like a good sign. Connor, for his part, only humors me with a thin smile, but it was sort of a jab at him.

"You're both brave," I hurry on, speaking to them now. "This is an endeavor full of unknowns. A road that not everyone has the courage to travel. If I remember correctly, the only thing Connor and I agreed on when we met was that marriage was overrated."

It's a lot easier to tell these stories when they feel like they've just happened yesterday.

"So it must have taken someone really special to convince you otherwise," I finish. "I'm glad that you're both happy." And I really am, this time.

I sit down before I ruin it. I pass the microphone to Cam. That was a good toast, right? It didn't have "I'm in love with the bride" anywhere in it, nor "I slept with the groom." Not even "I'm a time traveler fresh out of 2013!"

That would be a good story to tell at parties. It's too bad it makes people question your sanity.

Cam stands. "So before I start, I just want to point out to my parents—next time you start wondering where your grandchildren are"—he points at Connor and Nessa—"you can ask these two."

The audience laughs again. I force a smile, remembering the wedding where Cam had in fact been the one with a grandchild.

"In all seriousness, I could never wait to get rid of my little brother." He pauses to let them chuckle again. "But I didn't think there was anybody who would take him."

Nessa and Connor are both laughing now. Apparently joking insults are more palatable coming from siblings. Or maybe I'm not as good at joking as I thought.

"I'm glad to know there's someone who will."

Cam's voice fades into the background as I take a sip of my drink.