"Feet on the floor."
"I'm helping."
"You are violating several safety policies."
Margo scans the cereal. Then the bread. Then the coffee. Then she pauses and looks at Sadie, then at me. Then at Jillie.
Here it comes.
I can feel it.
I have taken slap shots to the ribs with less dread.
Margo smiles.
"So," she says brightly, "when's the wedding?"
Sadie goes perfectly still. I choke on absolutely nothing. Jillie gasps. "There's a wedding?"
"No," Sadie says.
At the exact same time I say, "No."
Jillie beams.
"You said it together again."
The woman behind us in line whispers, "Adorable."
Sadie's face turns red.
Not pink.
Red.
Margo looks delighted.
"I only meant, you know, eventually."
"There is noeventually," Sadie says.
It should not sting. It does. Which is absurd because she is right. There is noeventually.
There is an agreement.
One month.
Public appearances only.
No fake promises.
No confusing Jillie.
No emotional attachment.
I remember every rule.
Unfortunately, my chest does not seem interested in following them.
