Chapter 2

"Well, I'd say that was a real nice wedding, wouldn't you?"

Claire Boone looked over from the passenger seat where her father, Hudson, was driving to the local event space where Marty and Wyatt were having their reception.

"Oh, it was gorgeous," Claire sighed, thinking back to how happy and in love the newly married couple had looked. Marty had been the most beautiful bride, and even though Claire didn't know Wyatt that well, it was obvious how in awe he'd been of his new wife. It had been a special day, and Claire felt lucky to have been included.

"I was so glad I was invited. Marty and I haven't been as close recently as we were back in high school, so I was really touched that she remembered me on her big day."

A tiny pang of regret pulsed through her at her words. Maybe she needed to make socializing a higher priority. It was just such a challenge, though…

"Pshaw," her father commented, pulling into a parking space. "Who could forget you? You're the best girl in the world. I took a survey."

She rolled her eyes fondly. This was a running joke, stemming from Claire's childhood query about how her father knew she was the best at whatever he was praising that day. His measurements changed. He knew she was the best at math because he'd asked the president. He knew she told the funniest jokes because he ran mathematical calculations. It was silly for him to keep up the joke now that she was thirty years old, but she liked the joking relationship that she and her father had between them.

Maybe someone else would have thought it embarrassing to take their dad as a plus one to their wedding, but she didn't feel that way at all. Claire and Hudson had been close all their lives, but had become even more so since they'd lost Claire's mom.

But she didn't want to think about that today. Today was for happy thoughts only.

"Well," she continued, ignoring her father's outlandish compliment, "it wasn't really about me. Today was Marty's day! I still say it was nice though, for her to think to invite me."

Hudson nodded, squaring his shoulders as he prepared to get out of the car. Her father was tall, and always presented himself neatly, although he was particularly well-dressed for today's event. The wedding was formal, so Hudson was wearing a black suit and tie that was perfectly tailored to his frame. He had a neatly folded pocket square that was just one or two shades darker than his flashing blue eyes.

Claire knew that part of the reason her father paid such close attention to his appearance, keeping his silver beard neatly trimmed at all times and always dressing to impress, was because of his profession. Part of being a real estate agent, he'd always told Claire, was making sure clients trusted you to find them their forever home. But part of his tendency to always look his best was just Hudson. She smiled to herself as he performed his familiar ritual of straightening his tie in the rearview mirror.

Claire didn't follow the same habits, mostly because her chronic fatigue meant that she sometimes had to privilege physical comfort so she could save her energy for more important tasks. But she was her father's daughter, and she loved getting dressed up too. The forest green dress she wore tonight, for example, flattered her fiery red hair and she felt beautiful in it. She'd gone to the trouble of blowing out her hair instead of throwing it up, as she usually did, and had donned mascara and the only red lipstick she'd ever found that didn't clash with her hair. Her careful makeup application meant that you couldn't see her smattering of freckles, which caught Claire's eye with its unexpected difference every time she glanced in a mirror.

"The girls are nice," her father said gruffly, and Claire rolled her eyes, this time less fondly, against the but she heard coming. "Which is surprising, given that mother of theirs."

"Dad," she scolded. "You are not going to pick a fight with Lori Sims at her own daughter's wedding."

"Who said anything about picking a fight?" he asked, holding up his hands in an innocent gesture, although Claire did spot some chagrin in his eyes. "I'll be good."

"Good."

Before they got out of the car, Claire checked her makeup, touching gently under her eyes to make sure there were no dark circles. She'd tucked a tiny tube of concealer in her purse against such a possibility. Her eagle-eyed father didn't miss the significance of this check.

"You feeling okay?"

She nodded. She had been diagnosed with lupus in college, after years of not being sure why she was always far more tired and sore than her peers. The condition wasn't curable but having a diagnosis had helped Claire manage her symptoms. A lot of this management meant practicing self-care techniques, such as making sure she ate a diet rich in vitamins and minerals. She also had to be careful with sun protection, which was doubly true because she had the classic fair skin of a redhead. Another big part, however, was keeping a schedule that prioritized rest, and Hudson knew that a big event like the one they'd attended today could cause Claire to experience serious fatigue.

She definitely had enough energy for the reception, though. It wasn't something she wanted to miss, and she was feeling herself today, despite the upheaval in her schedule.

"Just a little tired," she told her father. "Not a big flare-up or anything."

Hudson nodded, still looking faintly concerned. One of the struggles of bringing their relationship into adulthood had occurred when Claire had told her father, with a firm but loving tone, that she was responsible for her own health. He could be concerned, but not controlling. Finding a boundary between the two had been something that father and daughter had worked to negotiate over the first couple years after Claire's diagnosis, but by this point they had found a good balance that worked for them both.

She knew that he would always worry about her, just like any parent would, but he trusted her to ask for help if she needed it.

"Just let me know if anything changes," he told her.

"Always," she said with a smile.

They headed inside to find a room that looked like a perfect winter wonderland, if winter wonderlands were located in upscale, old fashioned hotel ballrooms. The twinkling ambiance of the place immediately put Claire in mind of black and white films. Despite this, nothing about the place felt out of date. Instead, the Art Deco windows and the modern, streamlined table settings somehow worked together perfectly.

Claire wasn't surprised. Marty was a talented interior designer, and every time Claire had visited Marty's shop, Sand ‘n' Things, she'd been blown away by the elegance of all of Marty's choices.

The reception went off without a hitch, and Claire enjoyed every bite of the roast beef and root vegetables she had for her entrée. She opted to drink water instead of wine for the evening, although her father assured her that the wine was delicious, as well. Claire was allowed to drink in moderation, even with her condition, but she didn't want to feel more tired that evening.

After many long years' experience, she'd learned that it was often the little things that helped her best when it came to navigating her day-to-day life with chronic illness. Not having a glass of wine at dinner, since wine always made her sleepy, was well worth it if she got to enjoy more of this event with her friends and family.

The dancing started, and she and Hudson took a few turns about the floor before Claire felt it was time for a break. Since the crowd around the bride and groom's table had thinned, she pulled her father over to offer their congratulations to the couple.

As they approached, so did Marty's mother, Lori—Hudson's number one professional rival. Claire cut her father a look from the corner of her eye, warning him to behave. Neither Lori nor Hudson was a spiteful person, so their rivalry was always characterized more with tension and coolness than anything as mean as real insults. Sometimes Claire wondered if the real root of the ongoing feud between the two wasn't any real animosity, but that they both had too much fun throwing barbs at each other to give it up.

Still, this wasn't the time for sniping, even if it was relatively harmless. Nobody got under her father's skin like Lori Sims, and Claire didn't want to have her plus one become a six-foot-tall sack of grumps for the rest of the evening.

"Marty!" Claire greeted, throwing her arms around the smiling bride. Marty's embrace was as warm and friendly as if they'd kept up their connection as well as Claire wished they had. She made a mental note to get coffee or something with Marty in a few weeks, after the woman went on her honeymoon and had some time to get settled into married life.

"Congratulations! I'm so happy for you." She smiled at Wyatt, whom she didn't know as well, but who clearly made her friend mad with happiness. "And you too, Wyatt. You guys looked so good up there. There wasn't a dry eye in the house."

"Oh, Claire!" Marty exclaimed. "I'm so glad you could make it! That dress is amazing! And it's so good to see you too, Mr. Boone."

Happiness made Marty more beautiful than any makeup or dress could ever do, and Hudson smiled down at her, a little flustered by her kind greeting. It was kind of cool, Claire thought privately, to have the attention of the woman of the hour, even if that woman was someone she'd known since elementary school. It felt like getting your chance to sit at the popular kids' table.

"Oh, come on now, Marty," Hudson said. "You're all grown up now—you're married! Call me Hudson."

"Hudson," Marty agreed.

An indignant little sniff came from the woman at Marty's left.

Lori Sims had never been anything but nice to Claire. Since she had been friends with Marty and Darla in high school, Claire knew that sometimes their mother could rub people the wrong way with her tendency to speak her mind openly. But Claire herself had never seen Lori be anything but nice to anyone, if sometimes overbearing.

Anyone, that was, except Hudson Boone.

Something about Hudson turned Lori cranky and easy to take offense, while Hudson, similarly, grew stiff and formal and distant when around his rival. Claire thought it was a shame that it seemed like Lori would never get to know the real Hudson.

"Hello there, Lori," Hudson said, tone stiff.

"Hudson," Lori returned, just as serious.

Even though they hadn't been close in recent years, Marty and Claire experienced a moment of perfect harmony as they both rolled their eyes at their parents.

As Claire and Marty chatted about the wedding, Wyatt occasionally throwing in a comment, Claire kept noting the standoffish way that Lori and Hudson interacted. She made a mental note to tease her father later for acting more like a teenager forced to talk to a strange girl than a grownup with an adult child of his own being asked to converse with a long-time business associate. If she didn't know better, she'd almost accuse him of having a crush…

Inwardly, she laughed at the thought. Pigs were likely to fly before she saw Lori Sims and Hudson Boone exchange a friendly word to one another.