“I heard they paid his family five hundred large to seal the deal, but you know how numbers have a way of growing when Traveler women get to talking.”
I shrugged, lifting an eyebrow. It was entirely possible that the Sheedys had paid such a substantial sum to make a good match for their daughter, but half a million dollars was a large dowry even by Southern Traveler standards. Still, speculation over the bride-price was as much a tradition at Traveler weddings as the fancy gowns and festive music.
I glanced over at the couple again. A line had formed in front of their table; one person from each family was tasked with presenting a gift to the couple. This was yet another opportunity to show off, but it appeared most people had decided to wait until later in the evening when food and drink might make Pop more open to being impressed by their gifts. I reached under my seat and pulled out a thin package wrapped in simple brown paper. Maggie’s wedding gifts were never as expensive as those presented by other members of the clan, but they were always highly prized. This particular gift even came with instructions. Instructions I wasn’t excited about delivering. I thrust the package at my brother.
“You’re the oldest—you give it to ‘em.”
Jimmy Boy shook his head, pushing it back toward me. “No, thank you. Maggie gave it to you. You can go up there and tell them about the magic feathers.” He stood and excused himself by lifting his empty glasses in explanation.
“Thanks for your help,” I called after him, but if he heard me, he didn’t bother to look back. I growled in annoyance and pushed myself to my feet to join the line.
Although there were only a few people ahead of me, each one took his fair share of time fawning on Pop Sheedy and his family. I bounced on the balls of my feet as I drew closer to Mary and her new husband and wished again that Jimmy Boy had accepted my offer to do the job instead. Although I’d been staring at my feet for most of the wait, when I was next in line to present my gift, my gaze flicked over the wedding party, and I was surprised to find Rosie Sheedy looking at me. Our eyes met, and she immediately dropped her gaze, smiling at her hands.
“Congratulations on your marriage.” I handed the package to Mary but couldn’t keep my eyes from moving back to her sister.
Mary tore the brown paper and peeled it back, revealing two snow-white feathers. She squealed in delight, showing them first to her sister, then to the groom. The groom looked up at me in confusion.
I exhaled through my nose. Here we go. “They’re from a pair of swans,” I said, reciting the speech Maggie had made me memorize. “They mate for life—swans, I mean—so their feathers are supposed to guarantee a long life of love and happiness.” I paused, mentally preparing myself for the next part, which I directed toward Mary. “Maggie says to sew one into your pillow and the other one into your husband’s pillow to…um…” I cleared my throat. “…ensure fidelity.”
I felt my cheeks grow hot but forced myself to keep my expression neutral. The groom smirked and muttered his thanks, but it was Rosie who once again caught my eye. She hid a smile behind her hands and leaned over to whisper something into Mary’s ear. Both girls giggled again, and Rosie winked at me.
I remembered my promise to Jimmy Boy and took a step back, though it was the last thing I wanted to do.
“Anyway, congratulations again,” I said and crossed the floor as fast as I could without actually breaking into a run.
When I reached my seat, Jimmy Boy had a fresh beer waiting for me. I took it, gulping the bitter liquid greedily.
“Easy, tiger,” Jimmy Boy said. “Pace yourself, or you might end up like that one over there.” He pointed to someone behind me.
I turned around just in time to see Judd Sheedy stumble over to a keg. Pop’s youngest son had a habit of strutting around the Village like a self-important peacock, which had earned him the nickname “Prince,” but he also had a habit of drinking himself into a stupor any chance he got. He pulled a plastic cup from a stack on a nearby table but fumbled it clumsily. It hit the floor and slid several feet away from him, and rather than going after it, he angrily pulled another cup from the stack, which tipped over and scattered across the tabletop. Judd ignored the mess and helped himself to the keg, then emptied the entire cup at once, crushing it and tossing it aside. He swayed, clearly unsteady on his feet. I wondered if one of his older brothers would appear to help him find a seat before he ended up on the floor, but no one seemed forthcoming. Eventually, he found a support beam to lean against.
“That boy’s a menace.” I shook my head. “Where’s he been all night anyway?”
“The last I saw him was this morning when we passed by the pavilion, but who knows where he got off to after that? You’re lucky he didn’t notice all that stuff between you and Rosie over there.”
“All what stuff?” I said.
“I saw the looks she was giving you while you were standing up there,” Jimmy Boy said. “And you saw it, too.”
I fought a smile. “I didn’t see nothing, and neither did you. Drop it, Jimmy.”
“Well, I would, except the girl is still gawking at you, which makes it a little hard to let go.”
I looked up and met Rosie’s eyes. She’d joined three other girls standing a few feet from the line of guests still waiting to present their gifts. When we made eye contact, Rosie turned her back to me, and the group of girls erupted into chittering laughter.
“I’m going to ask her to dance,” I said. “There are plenty of people around. What’s the harm?”
“What’s the harm?” Jimmy Boy caught my arm and yanked me to a stop. He lowered his voice to a loud whisper. “Those Sheedy boys have whooped better men than you for looking at her funny. You think they’re going to sit by while you dance with her?”
I knew he was right, but the alcohol and my wounded pride urged me on. I pulled my arm away from Jimmy Boy and handed him my empty glass. I scratched at the tip of his nose as I moved across the floor, vaguely recalling something Maggie had once told me about an itchy nose heralding an argument. It was enough to slow my feet for half a second, but the sight of Rosie ahead of me pushed it from my mind just as quickly. As I approached her from behind, I cleared my throat to get her attention. Her friends wore matching grins, but they faded into the background as Rosie turned around.
I didn’t give her a chance to speak. “Dance with me.”
She looked surprised by my abrupt demand, but her smile broadened when she nodded. Her eyes seemed even bluer than usual as I took her hand and led her to the floor.
Rosie laid her hands on my shoulders, and I wrapped mine around the sides of her waist. I had to bend forward a little so my legs were far enough back to avoid treading on her huge gown.
“In a million years, I never thought Buffer Reilly would ask me for a dance,” Rosie said, giggling again. “If someone had told me that an hour ago, I’d have called him a liar.”
I lifted the corner of my mouth, pretending not to care about her use of the nickname. I knew she didn’t mean any offense by it, but it never stung any less when I heard it. “The Buffer” had been the insult of choice for the boys in the clan who were less forgiving of Maggie’s decision to keep me in school. A “buffer” was a country person, a non-Traveler, someone who didn’t belong. In their minds, it was the worst thing a person could be called, and I agreed.
“You know,” Rosie continued, obviously unaware she’d said anything wrong, “my sister knew she’d get a husband from Georgia. She told me she’d caught a ladybug when my parents were leaving for the funeral, and when she let it go again, it flew straight northeast, toward Georgia.”