Page 88 of Good Directions

Tizzy Pullman

I read it once, twice, then a third time, blinking harder with each reread. Because this isn’t right. Table three is clearly a family table, including Nash’s parents, grandpa, my brothers, my best friend, and me. But there is someone missing. Someone very important.

Sawyer Brown.

“Errr, hate to be the one to tell you this, Wills, but you get to redo this. You messed this up.”

“Excuse you?” she exclaims.

“You heard me. This isn’t right. Sawyer’s missing.”

Willa narrows her eyes at me, her expression going stony and cold, her normal sass morphing into something hard. Her eyes flick to Sawyer for a second, but only the briefest of moments, before they’re back on me.

“That’s because you didn’t RSVP for Sawyer.”

What? That’s not possible. My whole family knows I’m bringing a date. It’s all they’ve talked about—given me shit about—for weeks, not bothering to be shy about what I “owe” them if I don’t show up to this wedding with a date.

“Did too.”

“Did. Fucking. Not,” Willa counters, popping up from her stool. “Do you want me to pull out your RSVP card? Because I can!”

She holds up a small recipe card-sized box, fire in her eyes, nostrils flared like she is ready to battle. One she’ll win. My sister brought receipts.

“Then change it.”

“No.”

No? I balk, stepping back, my insides starting to boil. Willa has got to be fucking kidding me if she thinks that I’m going to roll over on this.

“Yes. It’s not that big of a deal. You’ve known for weeks that I planned on bringing Sawyer with me.”

That I’m bringing my girlfriend with me…

“Then you should have RSVP’d properly,” she snaps.

“I should go get cleaned up,” Sawyer says quietly, sidestepping around me.

I stop her, grabbing her hand and interlacing her fingers with mine. Nope, not a chance. I’m taking a stand, and my girl is going to be by my side as I do this.

“Willa, it’s a stupid RSVP. Are you saying you don’t want Sawyer at the wedding?”

Willa huffs. “I didn’t say that I don’t want her there. I would love to have Sawyer there. Most days I like her better than I like you. What I am saying is that you didn’t tell me she was coming, so we didn’t account for it in the head count!”

“Whoa!” Miss Belle hollers. “What is going on?”

“Someone thinks he can just rearrange everything because he didn’t change his RSVP.”

“Really, it’s fine,” Sawyer says.

I whip around to face her, our hands still clasped together. Now she’s lost her mind. Because the last thing this is, is fine.

“No, it most certainly is not!” I shout. “I don’t give a damn about what your chart says, Willa. I’ve been very clear about this; Sawyer is accompanying me to your wedding.”

“Anton Wright Hayes, there is no need to raise your voice,” my mama scolds through gritted teeth.

I nod, acknowledging her reprimand, but it does nothing to lower my blood pressure. To stop the pounding in my ears. I am fired up beyond belief.

“The final RSVP date was Sunday,” Willa says. “You could have changed your answer any time before then. But you didn’t. I am not rearranging everything so you can win some stupid bet.”