The ceremony went off without a hitch, I was told. And more importantly, without rain.

The guests were now filing to the tables as the sun crept lower in the sky. Fairy lights were strung up between the poles that had been installed for that very purpose, and despite the muggy heat, it looked magical. I, on the other hand, did not feel magical. My hair was sticking to my face, and sweat made my shirt cling to my back.

I lit the last citronella candle (our attempt to repel any and all winged critters) and plucked a dangling petal from a rose.

“Finally, a client with taste,” a voice next to me said. “These are centerpieces.”

“You like roses. How original.” I turned to face Andrew. He had obviously gone home, because he was wearing neither the rented tux nor the cater waiter outfit. Instead, he was in a tailored navy-blue suit that was less showy than the Burberry but still expensive.

“I figured if I wanted to look nice, I needed to make the groom look nicer,” he said, obviously noticing my gaze.

“And here I thought you’d done it out of the goodness of your heart.”

“I did it out of the goodness of your heart, right?”

I bit back an angry response and instead said, “I guess taking pictures isn’t the most important thing at events. The way you look is?”

“There is zero food at a wedding ceremony. I come for the reception.” He raised his phone and took a picture of Micah, who had just come out with the appetizer course.

“That better not go on the website,” she said as she passed us.

“It’s going front and center,” Andrew said back, and she shot him narrowed eyes over her shoulder.

Their friendly relationship seemed to be extra annoying tonight. I blamed the heat. I pushed a lock of my damp hair off my cheek just as the sky lit up with a crack of lighting.

“Am I allowed to say that it looks like it’s going to rain now?” Andrew whispered.

“Andrew, you are allowed to do whatever you want,” I said, then whirled around and headed for the house. I needed the air-conditioning, at least for a moment.

When I’d seen Chad in that tux, I thought I owed Andrew an apology, or at least a thank-you. I had offered him neither because, like always, his personality got in the way.

I found the closest AC vent and stood under it, pulling my shirt away from my skin and aggressively flapping it. I had been standing like that for some time when I figured I’d better check on things.

I headed back down the hall. Lance nearly knocked me over with a trayful of food on his way out.

“Sorry,” I said, knowing about the huge blind spot a full food tray created.

“No worries,” he said, and kept walking.

Micah came in as Lance went out, and when she saw me, standing flat against the wall, she said, “Um … what are you doing?”

“Staying out of the way.”

She smiled. “Good strategy.” Then she said, “Close your eyes.”

“Um … what?”

“Do you trust me?”

And of course I did, so I closed my eyes.

“Now open your mouth.”

I opened my mouth and she stuck some sort of food inside. I chewed it hesitantly at first, but as my entire mouth watered with the savory taste, I opened my eyes. “Was that shrimp?”

“Yes, the shrimp appetizer. Amazing, right?”

“So good,” I said. Then my eyes drifted to the tray of dirty dishes. “Wait, was that from one of those plates?”

“What?” she asked innocently. “I couldn’t let an excellent piece of shrimp go to waste.”

I elbowed her with a laugh. “I’m never trusting you again.”

She considered this. “So you wouldn’t have eaten it if you’d seen it on a used plate?”

“Fine, I probably would’ve if you’d told me it was good.”

“Exactly. I know you.” She nodded over her shoulder. “I better get to the next course.”

I went back outside, where I immediately couldn’t breathe again. One reason was the air; the other was my mother. She was standing next to a full table talking to one of the ladies sitting there. My mom wore a skin-tight, short purple dress that I had never seen before in my life.

I made my way to her. “Hi, Mom.”

“Oh, there you are. I have no idea where I’m supposed to sit.”

“Over here.” There weren’t assigned seats so I took her by the arm and led her to a table in the corner that had open spots.

“Also, my invitation said plus one, but I didn’t know if that meant Gunnar, so I left him in the car.”

“You left Gunnar in the car?”

“The windows are rolled down and it’s unlocked. He’s ten, Soph, why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m just surprised. You didn’t mention bringing him … or coming at all. I thought you had to work.”

Mom shrugged. “I got done early. I see other kids here. Go tell Gunnar it’s fine.”

She was right, there were other kids at the wedding, but they were related to the bride or groom. “I’ll go talk to him.”

I walked to the gravel parking area and found Mom’s car. Gunnar sat in the passenger seat, his feet on the dash, playing a game on his iPad. His jeans were dirty but he wore a clean green polo shirt and his hair was combed.

I leaned my arms on the open window. “Hey, kid. What are you doing?”

“Playing motocross.”

“Are you winning?”

“I keep getting flipped.”

“Did you want to come in and watch people eat and dance, or do you want to stay out here and play your game? I can bring you food.”

“You’ll bring me food?”

“Yes.”

“Then I want to stay out here.”

“Probably a good choice. I’ll be right back.”

I returned to the reception area and found Micah on her way back inside the house. “My brother is in the car. Think you can steal me a plate of food for him?”

“You know he can come in,” Micah said. She looked around and gestured at the flower girl racing across the grass. “There are tons of kids here. This is a country wedding, Soph.”

“I know. But Caroline had that talk with me, and I’m just trying to show her that I’m professional.”

“Yes, I’ll sneak you some food. Give me a sec.”

“Is this the secret meeting for party workers?” Andrew asked, joining us.

“I’m sorry, are you working this event?” I said. “Or do you own the place?”

“Sophie doesn’t like my suit, Micah. Tell me I look nice before I get a complex.”

Micah laughed. “You look so handsome.”

I gave an exaggerated eye roll.

“Stop distracting me, you two,” Micah said. “I’m supposed to be working here.” She tapped my shoulder with her empty tray, then flitted off.

Andrew and I stood there for a moment in silence. The sound of Kyle’s voice singing a slow song filled the air between us. Kyle had a nice voice. The songs the band was forced to play tonight made that more apparent. At the head table, Chad stood, pulling Janet up with him, and they danced right next to their seats, him holding her close.

“What are the odds?” I said, more to myself than anything.

“Of what?” Andrew asked.

“Of two people who can be compatible for the rest of their lives actually finding each other.”

“Not sure I know the exact numbers on that,” he said.

“The odds are low. Very low,” I said.

“A cynic about love,” Andrew said dryly. “How original.”

Maybe I was a cynic about love. My gaze drifted to Kyle. Was I the one not letting us move forward? I wasn’t exactly surrounded by good relationship examples. If my dad could up and leave, no looking back, after fifteen years with a person, what guarantees were there?

I started to walk away when several loud screams sounded from somewhere in the middle of the tables. My first thought was that it had finally started raining. But people weren’t looking at the sky, they were looking at the ground. One guest was up on her chair. Chad and Janet had stopped dancing and were leaning over their table in an attempt to see what was happening.

“What do you think that’s about?” Andrew asked, but I was already moving toward the commotion.

A group of men stood around a very large opossum. Its razor-sharp teeth were bared and its black eyes were glowing. Several of the guys had their cell phones out and were snapping pictures or videos. One guy had his jacket off and was swatting at the animal, supposedly in an attempt to get it to move along. The poor opossum was frozen in fear, seconds away from playing dead, I was sure.

“That is terrifying,” Andrew said from where he stood at my shoulder.

I whirled around and ran back to the house in search of a trapping device. The closest room was the kitchen, and the first thing I found was a large box on the ground. I swiped it up and went running, vaguely hearing the sound of Jett shouting something after me.

When I reached the group again, I turned the box upside down and lowered it over the opossum. There were a few cheers and a couple of boos as well, as if I had taken away a fun toy. The guests scattered back to their tables or to the dance floor.

Janet shouted out a “Thank you!” to me, and I waved to her and Chad.

“What now?” Andrew asked, nodding to the box. I still had my hand on top of it.

I took a breath. “Now we slowly slide this box through the tables and let the wedding crasher loose past the trees over there.”

“We?”

“Yep. Welcome to country life, sir.”

I thought he might object, but Andrew, nice suit and all, moved to the other side of the box and said, “Ready?”

I nodded. We slid the box and immediately felt the pressure of resistance. We kept pushing and moved it a couple of inches at a time around the tables.

“Does this happen often?” he asked.

“Never at a wedding. At least not one I’ve been to.”

“But at other events?”

“I once found an opossum in the shed behind the flower shop. And at Grandma Harris’s ninetieth birthday, a raccoon tried to eat her cake.”

“What a rude raccoon.”

“She thought so too.” We made it past the reception area to the grass, but my heels kept sinking into the earth. “Hold on a second.” I kicked them off.

Andrew stood straight and stretched, then slid off his jacket. “It’s hot.” He started to put his jacket on the ground next to my shoes but I stopped him.

“What are you doing? It’ll get dirty.”

“I’ll get it dry-cleaned.”

I held out my hand. He looked confused but gave me his jacket. About thirty feet to the left of us, the chairs from the ceremony were still set up. I could see their white silhouettes in the darkness. I jogged over and tucked my shoes under a chair and laid his jacket over the back. Then I returned and placed my hands back on the box. “Ready?”

He pointed. “All the way to the trees?”

“Yes, then it won’t come back.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

It took us another ten minutes to inch the box to the trees. When we arrived we both stared at the overturned box.

“It’s not going to attack us or anything, is it?” he asked.

“No, he just wants to get away.”

“Okay. Here goes nothing.” Andrew lifted his foot, placed it on the side of the box closest to us, and tipped it back. We waited for the creature to go scurrying, but nothing happened.

“Did we lose it somewhere along the way?” Andrew asked, looking behind us.

“No, I felt it.” I moved around the box slowly. There was nothing on the ground. I crouched down to look inside.

A loud hiss sounded before the creature scurried out of the box.

I screamed and fell back onto my butt. Andrew laughed, and the opossum ran into the trees.

I scowled at Andrew and he stepped in front of me and held out his hand. I thought about rejecting it, but that seemed worse than just taking it. So I did. He pulled me to my feet too quickly, causing me to trip forward. My free hand used his chest for support. He kept hold of my other hand until I was steady.

“You good?” he asked.

I met his eyes to say yes, but couldn’t quite get my words out—his stare seemed so intense. I pushed off his chest, taking a step back. “Yes, fine.”

He turned and bent down. “Wait, is this …” He flipped the box, open side up. “Where did you get this?”

“I grabbed the first one I could find in the kitchen.”

“This is the box my dad stores his mixer in.” Andrew pointed to the picture of a red mixer on the outside and bit his lip. “He’s going to be ticked.”

“Oh.”

He held out the box for me to take. “Good luck.”

I groaned. “Thanks a lot.”