Work Text:
Stevie is making a concerted effort not to drink too much at the wedding reception, and not only because she tends to try to make out with people when she gets boozy. There is also the very real worry that the tears she managed to keep from spilling over during the ceremony, while David and Patrick said their vows, will overflow if she gets drunk.
And no, before anyone asks, it’s not because she’s still hung up on David, God. She got over that not too long after she told him she had, her face-saving lie becoming retroactively true. It’s just emotional, seeing her closest friends making each other so happy. Especially when she thinks back to what David was like when he first got to Schitt’s Creek, to see him so euphoric now is… it’s a lot. It makes her emotional, and Stevie is not a fan of being emotional in front of people. She’s not a fan of doing much of anything in front of people, but between the musical last year and being David’s best person today, she’s been forced to get used to it.
Which reminds her, she has to give a fucking toast in a little while.
Well, maybe one more drink won’t hurt. For courage.
She makes her way over to the bar and orders herself a glass of white wine (as long as she stays away from the hard stuff, she’ll be fine). When she thanks the bartender and steps away, she almost collides with a guy in a charcoal suit holding a bottle of beer.
“Oh! Sorry,” Stevie says.
“No worries. It’s Stevie, right?” the guy says, reaching out with his free hand to shake hers.
“Yeah.” She’s probably supposed to ask his name, but she drops his hand and waits for him to volunteer it if he wants to.
“I’m Tim. One of Patrick’s cousins.”
Stevie eyes him. She met several cousins at the rehearsal dinner, but she can’t remember if this was one of them. “He has a lot of cousins.”
Tim laughs. “Yeah. I’m not even sure how many of us there are.”
There’s a lull that Stevie doesn’t know how to fill. “Okay, well--” She starts to step away, back toward her seat at the head table.
“So you’re David’s closest friend, I take it? Since you were his best…”
“‘Best Person’ is what we went with.”
“Not that you’re full of yourself or anything,” he says with a grin.
Stevie doesn’t feel like doing this. She doesn’t feel like bantering with a guy (even a reasonably good-looking one like Tim) at a wedding. She doesn’t feel like at some point making the decision between going to bed with this guy and not. She doesn’t feel like doing the walk of shame from his hotel room (she assumes hotel; she’s pretty sure he’s not one of the wedding guests staying at her motel) and figuring out how to get back home without bumming a ride from her one night stand. She’s so… tired of all of it.
“It’s just, when I heard Patrick was engaged to this guy, I googled him, and…” He shrugs. “I mean it’s not that I don’t trust Patrick’s judgment, but…” He seems to be leaving a blank for her to fill in. What, does he expect her to agree with him? Yeah, dude-I-just-met, my best friend is a shallow slut who’s going to break your cousin’s heart, you got it out of me!
Stevie blinks at him and pastes on a fake smile. “But what?”
“No, I mean, nothing,” he flounders.
Another similar-looking guy comes up and claps Tim on the back. “Whatever he’s saying, ignore him; he’s an asshole.”
“Yeah, that was starting to become clear.” She does recognize this one from the rehearsal dinner. Another cousin from Patrick’s never-ending supply of cousins, one who actually had some kind of ushering responsibility, if she remembers correctly.
“Tim, I think I saw some kids loitering around your car,” the new cousin says. “You might want to go check.”
Tim gets a panicked look on his face and bolts away.
“Thanks,” Stevie says. “Sorry, I know we met last night but I can’t remember your name.”
“It’s Dennis. And don’t worry about it, no one deserves to have to make conversation with Tim for any length of time.”
“Yeah, he seemed like a real prince.”
Dennis winces. “He didn’t say anything homophobic, did he? Because I told him--”
“No, nothing like that. Just… David-phobic, I guess.”
“Aren’t you David’s closest friend?” he says with an eye roll. “Sorry, I called Tim an asshole when clearly I should have said ‘stupid asshole’.”
Stevie laughs at that.
“Look, as far as I’m concerned, Patty’s always had a good head on his shoulders. Okay, yeah, I guess he took a while to figure out , you know… what he needed in a partner,” he says, gesturing over to the dance floor. Patrick is currently laughing at something David is saying and attempting to restrain him from leaving to sit down when the DJ starts to play ‘Livin’ La Vida Loca.’ “But he’s clearly figured it out now. So David’s okay in my book, because he’s what makes Patty happy.”
Stevie bites her lip about ‘Patty’. She’s not going to make fun of Patrick about the nickname today, oh no. She’s going to save it until after they get back from their honeymoon, and then she’s going to pick her moment and tease him mercilessly. She might call him Patty for an entire week if she doesn’t get bored with it.
“Patrick’s what makes David happy too,” she says, surprised that something so sentimental would come out of her mouth to a near-stranger. “Okay, I gotta…” she says, gesturing back to the head table before escaping from Dennis. She doesn’t gotta anything at the moment, really, but the escape feels necessary.
Necessary but short-lived, because Stevie can barely take another sip of her wine before Alexis is dragging her out on the dance floor. The song is one of David’s favorite Mariah ballads, and Alexis pulls Stevie into a slow dance like they’re a high school couple at prom, her bony arms slung over Stevie’s shoulders. The fact that, as part of the wedding party, they are wearing matching dresses makes the tableau look even weirder, or so Stevie assumes. Still, she puts her hands on Alexis’ tiny waist and dutifully sways to the music.
“You couldn’t dance with Ted to this?”
Alexis huffs. “Ted is doing shots with Ronnie and Jocelyn.”
“Oh my God, they are going to drink him so far under the table--”
“I know,” she says with an eye roll. “He’s such a lightweight.”
“Alexis… David is married,” Stevie says, because even though she’s been along with him and Patrick for the entire ride, the fact that David Rose is a married man… it’s like learning that a starfish has mastered calculus.
“Right?” Alexis says. “I literally never thought this day would come. Like, ever.” Then Alexis’ eyes wander the room and a grin unfurls on her face. “That guy you were talking to earlier is watching us. I think he might be into you.”
Stevie starts to turn, but Alexis quickly says, “Don’t look. The cute usher. Dennis, I think?”
“Oh. Yeah. He’s probably looking at you, Alexis.”
Alexis simpers. “I get why you would think that, but I’m pretty sure it’s you this time.” She wiggles her body, and Stevie feels the undulations of Alexis’ hips under her hands. “Stevie’s gonna get some!”
“No, I’m not gonna fuck one of Patrick’s cousins, but thanks for your well-wishes.”
“You could, though.”
Stevie sighs. “I know that given my past and my low standards--”
“Like David,” Alexis says with a giggle.
“--that this might come as a shock, but the thought of hooking up with someone at this wedding, even a cute boy, is a painfully dull idea. I think I’m past that.”
Alexis gives her a serious look. “You don’t want to do meaningless sex anymore, I totally get that.” She gives another wiggle of her hips like she’s a happy puppy. “So what we need to do is, we need to find your soulmate.”
Stevie drops her chin to her chest. “No, that’s not…” She sighs, and then looks back at Alexis. “That’s what everyone always says. ‘You haven’t met the right person yet’ or ‘Let me fix you up with my friend’ or ‘You just need to put yourself out there.’ But what if I’m… happy like this? Running the motel, helping Mr. Rose plan the Elmdale expansion, hanging out with my friends, or just being by myself in my apartment? What if I’ve only been looking for a romantic relationship because everyone tells me I’m supposed to, and not because I’ve ever actually wanted one?”
Alexis looks pensively at her, taking all of that in.
After Emir, Stevie spent a lot of time thinking about her feelings -- more time than she ever wanted to spend thinking about her feelings. She’d liked Emir a lot and the sex had been fantastic, but she realized that a lot of her heartbreak when he made it clear he didn’t want anything more than an occasional hook-up was because of what she thought it said about her. That she was provincial and small and worthless. Even her feelings for David, when she’d really interrogated them after he stole Roland’s truck and ran away, were rooted in insecurity about herself. David Rose was the very definition of experienced and worldly, and the idea that he might care even a tiny bit less about her than she cared about him had been excruciating. It wasn’t that she loved David, at least not that way. It was that she couldn’t bear to watch him inevitably lose interest in her as a person. She’d wanted so much to keep David in her life. The sex was incidental to that, except for its inherent power, in her experience, to keep men interested.
Alexis is giving Stevie a soft smile, one that would have been completely foreign on her face a few years ago. “If you’re happy, babe, then that’s all that matters.”
The Mariah ballad is reaching its vocally excessive climax, and Stevie notices the DJ signaling her. “I guess it’s time for me to do this stupid toast now.” Her stomach flutters with nerves. Despite her foray into the world of theater, she feels a little like she’s headed to her own execution.
Walking over, she takes the microphone as someone presses a champagne glass into her hand. The song fades out, and the sound of her throat-clearing comes blaring out of the speakers. There’s some glass-clinking from someone, and then everyone quiets down. Stevie pauses, looking out over the crowd. She sees Patrick and David standing side-by-side, arms around each other, smiling at her.
“Hi, everybody. I guess it’s my job to give a toast to the grooms, so, uh, here goes.” Stevie flinches at the whine of feedback on the first few words and adjusts the position of the mic in front of her face.
“I remember the first time that Patrick walked into the store while I was there, probably helping David do something that he was too lazy to do on his own.” There is a smattering of laughter from the assembly, and it makes her feel a little bit better. “It didn’t take more than a few minutes of watching them talking to each other, kidding around and trying to one-up each other, that I knew there was some kind of spark there. Apparently I was the only one who knew, though, because David invited me to come on their first date with them.” More laughter. “I mean, they did figure it out eventually, based on the fact that I caught Patrick with a hickey on his neck at the store a couple of weeks later. And the fact that they were desperate to fool around together in my apartment when they couldn’t find privacy anywhere else.” Patrick puts his face in his hands at that, shaking his head. Stevie thinks fleetingly that she should feel bad saying all that in front of the parents of the grooms, but she very much does not. “I mean, when you think about it, there’s no way David and Patrick would even be together now if it wasn’t for me. It’s a favor they may never be able to repay, but I’ll take cash if you guys want to try it.”
That gets her a really big laugh, and Stevie beams.
“My point is, I’ve had a front row seat to all these milestones between these two, and…” She pauses and swallows on a dry mouth. She once told David she was incapable of sincerity, but she is going to attempt it now. “I’ve heard that love can be transformative, and I always thought that was bullshit. But watching Patrick and David, the way their differences complement each other, the way they support each other through good times and bad times, the way they love each other…” Her voice breaks on that; Stevie struggles to hold it together but she is rapidly losing her battle with tears. “I guess it might be true. So anyway, I’m glad I got to watch them fall in love, and I’m glad I got to be here today to watch them promise each other forever.” Holding up her champagne, she finishes with, “I love both you idiots. To David and Patrick.”
There is a rousing cheer and a chorus of ‘To David and Patrick,’ and Stevie hands the microphone back to the DJ like it’s made of snakes and hurries off the stage. She looks down at her glass, realizing she forgot to take a drink after her own toast.
Swigging down the champagne and setting the glass aside, Stevie looks up to see David approaching.
“Don’t you dare hug me, David.”
“I’m going to,” he says with a smiling head-shake, that smirking smile he has when he can barely contain his happiness.
His tuxedo fabric is smooth against her cheek, his arms enveloping her in a warm embrace. Stevie returns the hug, settling into it like a comfortable blanket.
“You made me cry, so you get a hug whether you like it or not,” David says.
“Please, you’ve been crying off and on all day; you can’t blame me.” She pulls away, then reaches out absently to brush away any trace of her makeup (expertly applied by Alexis this morning) from the lapel of his jacket.
“True.” He’s giving her a knowing look. “You know, you can be quite the romantic.”
“About other people’s relationships, yes I can,” she says with a sage nod. “Like, I can appreciate another person’s cute baby without wanting my own baby.”
David shudders at the mention of babies and makes a disgusted face.
“How does it feel to be somebody’s husband, David?”
David turns to look behind him, and Stevie follows his gaze to the dance floor where Patrick is dancing with Mrs. Rose. Stevie grins, wondering who’s leading in that pair. “So far, I guess it’s okay,” David says with another smirk, his eyes shining, then he looks back at her. “I love you.”
“How dare you,” Stevie says, the lump in her throat growing larger.
“I know. Come on, let’s dance.” David takes her hand, and Stevie lets herself be led.
Much later, as she watches the people on the dance floor and catches her breath, Mr. Rose makes his way over. “So I was thinking about the new motel,” he says by way of greeting.
“You were thinking about the new motel at your son’s wedding?” Stevie asks, not really surprised but enjoying the chance to shame Mr. Rose a little.
“Well, I don’t mean…” He opens and closes his mouth a few times before explaining, “I was thinking about it last night.”
“And what about it?” They were breaking ground on the Rosebud Motel in Elmdale next month, which, for reasons that still mostly surpassed her understanding, was going to be styled in much the same way as the original Rosebud Motel. Hipsters like the aesthetic, Alexis had told them. Even the use of the term ‘motel’ contributed to a sort of ironic realness, she’d said, a statement that gave Stevie a good laugh at the time.
“When the new motel is built, someone will have to run it and I was thinking, why not Stevie?” Mr. Rose says with a big grin.
“I already run a motel.”
“I… I know that, Stevie, but the new motel is going to be bigger, and in a town with a lot more going on. Better restaurants, better culture, more to do. It might be an interesting opportunity for you if you want it. We can hire someone else to run the original Rosebud.”
She blinks. Stevie Budd has spent her entire life in Schitt’s Creek. She went to high school here, spending her Friday nights learning to shotgun beers or giving a fumbling handjob in the backseat of a car. She’s always expected she’d probably die here in her shitty apartment, maybe with a couple of pet cats to round out the lonely spinster aesthetic.
“I don’t know, Mr. Rose. My friends are here.” She gestures toward the dance floor, where Ted and Twyla are flailing around to ‘Don’t Stop Me Now,’ and then cringes at the idea that she would actually miss a lot of these people if she moved.
“Well, Elmdale isn’t that far, so you’d still be able to spend time with the gang here.” Mr. Rose pats her gently on the shoulder, his body language filled with hesitancy. “You can stay in Schitt’s Creek if you want to, of course you can. But I want the choice of which motel to run to be yours.”
She can’t decide if she wants to bask in the fatherly smile he gives her or flee from it. “Thank you, Mr. Rose.”
“And who knows, if we keep expanding?” He holds his arms out wide. “Think what the future might hold!”
“Uh huh.” She looks back out at the dancers, but she can feel Mr. Rose’s eyes still on her.
“You know, Stevie, I hope you know I’m not… I’m not just giving you this opportunity out of some kind of fatherly impulse.”
The war between basking and fleeing intensifies. “Fatherly--?”
“It’s because I’ve been watching you since we hired more staff, and you’re very good at managing people -- getting them to do what you need them to do. I hate to admit it, but you might be better at it than I am.”
Stevie blinks. She didn’t expect to be getting a performance review at David’s wedding, but that seems to be what’s happening.
“So I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather see running the new motel. It’s not only that you deserve the opportunity, Stevie. It’s that I’m confident you’ll succeed.”
“Oh.” She feels her eyes welling up with tears for approximately the fiftieth time that day. “Thank you.”
He gives her a warm smile. “We can talk about it more later. You should go dance with your friends.”
She goes. Stevie dances in a loose circle with the people who have gradually wormed their way into her heart over the last few years, with the people who have made her feel like her life is full. Smiling and closing her eyes, she soaks up some of that transformative love for herself.