𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 → 𝐥𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

42. save the date

monday,
november 22nd, 2020

EZRA GREYSTONE

"Congratulations!" I pretty much shriek into the phone, a beaming grin on my face at the news I've just received.

My uncle Roy just laughs at my clearly over-excited state. I don't think anybody could blame me. My only uncle has just announced a wedding date — finally. He's been engaged for almost a year now, down in Devon with his fiancée, Rachel.

They first met four years ago, when Roy opened up his clinic across the street from Rachel's bakery. He's a veterinarian, Devon isn't a huge place and he got a great offer on the little site. I believe their platonic relationship started out when Rachel would bake animal friendly goods and hand deliver them across the road on Tuesdays, when her bakery was quiet. One thing led to another, and they were official within six months of meeting.

"February 14th," he reminds me, "Save the date!" he chuckles.

How could I not? I mean, I nearly had a heart attack when I unlocked my little mail box on the ground floor of my apartment building. A pale pink, beautifully decorated envelope came tumbling out, Roy & Rachel written in silver cursive being the first thing to catch my eye. I knew instantly, proceeded to squeal childishly and caught a few odd glances from fellow students nearby. I didn't care, I ran straight back up to my room and dialled Roy's number.

"Will the wedding be down south?" I ask, imagining the chaos of my entire family migrating down to Devon for a few nights. It wouldn't be too much of a task for me, I'm quite nearby now, but the inevitable stress it would cause everybody else would no doubt amuse me.

"Edinburgh, we think actually," Roy replies and I'm a little surprised considering Rachel was born and raised in Devon, "We have reservations to go and view some venues, some down here, more up there. I'm not sure, Rach's family is smaller than ours so it makes more sense for them to pack up their life for a couple days, right?"

I shrug, mindlessly brushing my thumb along the detailed writing scrawled inside of my invitation. Even seeing my name written so beautifully is flattering, but what's underneath it borderline petrifies me.

Ms Ezra Theo Greystone, Bridesmaid
Plus One:
Chicken, Beef or Lamb:

It isn't so much the decision of which main course I'll be having on the night (really, I like chicken, beef and lamb and we have no vegetarians or vegans in the family), but more so the thought of bringing a plus one. Romantically, even. I mean, I may as well just tick for a plus one — with nobody in particular lingering on my mind — and then I can always bring Lola or one of the guys.

They haven't actually been invited, which I understand because the wedding is strictly families and everybody's dates. Or plus one's, should I say. Roy and Rachel aren't very over the top people, I always suspected they'd go for a small wedding.

"Ezra? Helloooo," Roy whistles, startling me and reminding me that I am in fact on a phone call.

"Oh, sorry," I awkwardly chuckle, "I guess that makes sense. You'll have to drag Nana all the way up to Edinburgh, though," I giggle at the thought, picturing how many slaps on the arm Roy will receive for dragging his mother all the way up the country and then some.

"Don't remind me," he jokes. There's some talking in the background of his side and he simply sighs, "I'm gonna have to get back to work, there's a very unhappy chihuahua out front."

I laugh, "Okay, Roy. Congrats again, I'll see you when I see you."

"Bye, Ez."

With that, the line falls dead and I giddily open up Google, aimlessly flying through various websites that showcase bridesmaid dresses. Roy told me that Rachel will make a group chat soon with all the bridesmaids and discuss colour themes etcetera. I couldn't care less, I've never been to a wedding before so I'm just over the moon excited.