A Christmas Wedding

‘Give that to me, you cheeky monkey,’ Bridget chides, wrestling her phone back. ‘I’ll get you one of these when you’re twelve and not a year younger.’

I smile at my friend’s face, lit up with love as she grins down at her daughter. It still feels surreal, but Bridget is, without a shadow of a doubt, this tiny person’s mummy, now. They haven’t quite completed the adoption process, but April has been using the moniker for months.

‘How are you?’ Bridget asks once April has run off to amuse herself with some toy or other.

‘I’m okay.’ I nod.

There’s sadness in her eyes, which I know mirrors mine.

Things haven’t been right between Lachie and me, not since Christmas, and, if I’m being honest, not for some time before that. Bridget is as clueless as I am about a solution.

‘So he definitely can’t make the wedding?’

I shake my head. ‘Aside from the fact that he refuses to let people down, we can’t afford to both fly over at the moment.’

‘Is today’s wedding with Fliss?’ she checks.

‘Yep. And the two in July when I’m over with you. She sees more of him than I do.’ I miserably put my feet up on the coffee table. ‘He reckons we should be thankful to her for getting him so much work.’

‘Yeah, I’m sure her heart is in the right place.’

I love it when Bridget is sarcastic.

I grin at her. ‘Miss you,’ I say.

‘I miss you, too,’ she replies seriously. Her expression suddenly becomes anxious. ‘Am I making a shitty mistake asking you to do the pics?’

Now I’m worried. I haven’t managed to line up any other weddings since she asked me to do hers. Lachie said Fliss could ask around – she is very well connected, apparently – but I decided to cut off my nose to spite my face, where that one was concerned.

I’ll probably live to regret it, but I can’t face her being involved in my career. It’s bad enough that she’s so entwined with Lachie’s, although I do know deep down that I should be more appreciative of all the work she gets him. He’d much rather be playing his music than working on a building site or behind a bar.

‘Are you having second thoughts?’ I ask apprehensively.

‘No!’ Bridget cries. ‘Of course I’m not! I just want you to kick back and enjoy yourself, not have to work.’

‘I will absolutely enjoy myself. Anyway, Rachel will be there, too.’

I was thrilled when Bridget managed to line up my former boss after I voiced concerns about my current lack of experience. Luckily, Bridget and Charlie are getting married midweek, so Rachel was free. She gave them a whopping great discount and was delighted to hear that I would be assisting her.

‘I spoke to her last week,’ I say with a smile. ‘I can’t wait to work with her again.’

‘I assure you, the feeling is mutual,’ she replies. ‘With Maria doing my make-up, it’ll be like old times.’

‘Any more thoughts on your hen night?’ I ask.

Last I heard, she still hadn’t made plans. Her friends have put forward so many suggestions – mostly involving European getaways – but so far, none of our ideas have been received with enthusiasm from our bride-to-be.

Now our blushing bride-to-be, I notice.

‘I’m not sure I really want one,’ she reluctantly admits.

‘What?!’ Bridget, turning down the chance to go out with her mates and get shitfaced?!

‘I know this is really, really sad,’ she continues bashfully, ‘but I just don’t want to be away from Charlie and April, even for one night.’

‘What has he done to you?’ I cry.

Her cheeks brighten further and I can’t help but laugh.

‘How do you cope when you have to go away for work?’ I ask, genuinely curious.

‘Charlie and April come with me,’ she replies, still sheepish. ‘I know I’ll have to work away from them sometimes, but I wouldn’t choose it,’ she reveals.

I laugh again. ‘I never, ever thought I’d see the day.’

‘Me neither,’ she replies.

It’s Lachie’s twenty-ninth birthday a week later. He wants to go out in Sydney for a big night, but at the last minute he’s asked to do a gig at a popular Manly haunt after the booked artist drops out. His friends are only too happy to go to his gig first before carrying on locally, so I head home straight after work to get ready and join him at the venue. I find him having a beer with a couple of his former builder buddies.

When we settled in Sydney, Lachie lined up a stint on a building site to help pay the rent, but he has enough gigging work now to get by. He’s stayed in touch with the guys he liked the most, though, including his former boss, Nathan, who’s propped up at the bar with him now.

‘I didn’t know you were back,’ I say to Nathan with a smile, after kissing the birthday boy hello. ‘Is Lucy coming?’

Lucy is Nathan’s wife and we became friendly almost instantly. She and Nathan have been over in the UK for the last few months, working and visiting Lucy’s family. They try to split their time between the two countries.

‘Yeah, as soon as she’s got Finn down,’ Nathan replies, referring to their not-quite-two-year-old son. ‘Jet lag is a bitch for toddlers. His sleep is all over the place.’

‘When did you get back?’

‘Only a few days ago. We’ll have to have you over to ours for a barbie soon.’

‘That would be great.’

We tend to go to theirs more, just because it’s easier with Finn. Plus, they have a really cool old house, just up the hill from here. It was pretty much derelict when they bought it, but now it has modern touches and loads of glass and natural light. Nathan did all of the work on it himself.

I turn to Lachie, pleased to see that he’s wearing the new watch I bought him. ‘How was your day?’

‘Pretty chilled,’ he replies with a warm smile.

‘When are your days not chilled,’ I tease, slipping one arm around his waist. He does the same to me, pulling me against his hip.

‘What do you want to drink?’ he asks.

‘I might get a glass of bubbles.’ I try to flag down the girl behind the bar, but she’s not looking my way.

‘Prosecco?’ he asks, raising an eyebrow.

‘Yes, please.’

He twists away and leans over the counter. The girl looks his way immediately and attends to him within seconds.

This always happens. Not that I’m complaining.

A few more friends arrive, including Fliss, who walks in, laughing, with Elliot.

‘Am I missing something?’ I ask in his ear when he comes over.

He brushes me off. ‘No. She was at her sister’s, so I offered to pick her up on my way from work. I had a meeting with a client this afty in Cremorne.’ That’s a suburb southwest from here, on the way to Sydney. Elliot’s a civil engineer.

‘Cool watch!’ I hear Fliss say to Lachie.

‘Bronnie got it for me,’ Lachie replies, and he’s already smiling at me when I turn to catch his eye.

‘She’s got good taste, your girlfriend.’ Fliss flashes me a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

‘Too bloody right, she does,’ Lachie jokes, grabbing my hand and tugging me towards him. He loops his arms around my waist from behind and plants a kiss on my cheek.

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