Nothing Scientific About It | [COMPLETE]

Chapter Twenty Five

"That is what I think it is, isn't it?" I asked as we stood at the sliding glass door and looked out into the backyard.

"You're going to have to be more specific."

"The song. The fucking song."

"Why do you think I knew what this was?" Cade slowly slid the door open and stepped onto the back porch. I followed, and even though I had seen it all with my own two eyes from the dining room, none of it felt real until we were standing side by side at the edge of the grass of the backyard.

Twinkling, gold lights were strung up overhead and disappearing off into the distance in every direction before fading away into the faraway darkness. This gave the sea of ornately decorated tables and the dance floor, obviously rented, an otherworldly glow.

I would have almost described it as beautiful, except that the current soundtrack was Brad Paisley singing lovingly about checking his girlfriend, or someone else, for ticks.

"Whose reception is this?"

"Gina's cousin, Renee. She's probably over there, somewhere." He pointed across the grass to a long table at the far end of the yard. The whole space, minus the dance floor, was full of people, though most of them were little more than vague shadows murmuring beyond the candlelight emanating from the center of each table.

"This reminds me of mom and Duncan's reception, except I like this one even less." I had been so close to Cade moments before. So very close. I should have known something was going to interrupt us. He did have one ex left, after all.

It wasn't that I hated their wedding. I didn't even hate Duncan. But this was a second marriage for both of them, and yet he had thrown money at it like at least one of them was royalty of a tiny, forgotten Eastern European kingdom. About the only thing their reception had been missing was a flyover by the Blue Angels. I think they also had this exact same rented dance floor, too.

"Cade! Oh, we were just talking about you." A woman's voice called from our right, causing both of us to jump.

"Hi, Francine." Cade answered, his voice flat, as an older lady stepped in front of us. She was paper thin, wrinkled, and was wearing a baby pink dress that was made of about as much fabric as a toddler's t-shirt. "Nice to see you."

"Yikes." I grunted.

If she heard me, she didn't react. "Where did you run off to? Gina's been looking rather lonely over there." She pointed to a table near the back of the garage, and there was a girl our age sitting alone and sipping on a glass of what was probably champagne.

"I, uh, had to use the bathroom. There, um, was a bit of a wait."

"You're far braver than me to go anywhere near those port-a-potties." Francine giggled, which sounded like a car backfiring, and then tried to grab Cade by the wrist. "Also, I really want to get your opinion on some of the appetizers, Mister Chef."

"Uh..." Cade pulled his hand away and then rubbed at his wrist. "Sure. Okay."

I stayed behind the two of them as they approached the table, but soon Francine was gone, disappearing off into the shadows and becoming just another dark shape along with the rest.

"I think you're right. I do think cilantro tastes like soap." Gina was wearing a pale gold gown that looked more suited for a junior prom than a wedding. A tiara sat in front of her next to a stack of three plates. A tiny taco sat on top with a bite taken out of it. "Yuck."

"We knew Renee was doing some Mexican for dinner. I offered to sneak you in some snacks. Do you, um, want me to get you another, um, drink?" I had never heard Cade so nervous. "Or something else?"