Page 105 of Falling Back to You

Per your request, we’ve changed your order from calla lilies to white roses.

I blinked and read it again. I hadn’t authorized this request, which meant . . . Mom. Frustration boiled through my veins. Why would she do this? At the beginning of the wedding planning, I’d mapped things out extensively. No surprises, no bumps. This made no sense. But I couldn’t deal with it right now.

“I gotta go.” I snatched my makeup bag from the dresser and reached for Quinn’s shirt.

She and Ruby were already curled up on my bed under one of my crocheted blankets watching the magical world of Barbie. I kissed their heads and slipped out.

The arguing intensified as I tiptoed down the stairs. It was almost impressive so much noise could come from two people. After getting Quinn’s mustard-bedazzled shirt doused with heavy-duty dish soap and vinegar, I nearly made it to the front door unnoticed, but that was too much to hope for.

“Where are you going?” Mom demanded, eyes flashing.

Breathe, don’t rock the boat. Straightening, I held her gaze calmly. “I have a date tonight.”

“Be home by ten.”

“Mom, that’s Olive’s curfew.”

“And yours.”

I bit back the rising anger. Olive was the one who traipsed across the state without permission. I was just trying to go on a date with my fiancé. “We’ve talked about this. I’m an adult and getting married in five weeks.”

Her dark brown eyes turned icy. “You’re supposed to set an example for your sisters. This isn’t up for discussion. Ten, and that’s final.”

It wasn’t the first time we’d had this particular argument, and Cal had his own set of opinions about it.

Time to pivot. “Why did you change my flower order? Cal and I wanted calla lilies.”

Mom snorted, picking at her chipped nail polish. “And who’s footing the bill? Roses are a better budget option. I told you that.”

“You offered to pay for the flowers,” I ground out. This wedding was already budget friendly. Cal and I didn’t want anything ostentatious. Between the Satterfields’ generosity, my paychecks, and Cal’s, my parents weren’t forking out tons of cash for this wedding.

Mom waved a hand. “We’ve had to economize. If you want the lilies, you’ll have to pay the remainder of what the roses would cost.”

I rubbed my temple. “I can’t do this right now. I’m going to be late.” It was already pushing six thirty. “The girls have eaten, and there’s leftovers in the fridge.” Ignoring the rest of the conversation, I marched out the front door across the brown lawn to the Satterfields.

Without knocking, I slipped through the back door into the kitchen. Pops was washing the dishes while Dallas dried. Mama D and Melissa sat at the island stools, two-year-old Josie at their feet playing with blocks. All of them were laughing. The evident love and camaraderie in front of me made my heart twist. The scene was so different from the one I’d left behind.

Inhaling the comforting smell of fresh bread and grilled steak, I let the warmth of the room wash away the uncomfortable knots in my stomach. Or tried to at least.

“Elle!” Melissa jumped up. Well, sort of jumped. She was eight months pregnant and in what she called the waddling stage.

I lifted my makeup bag. “Figured I needed to call an expert.”

“Don’t you look pretty!” Mama D gushed.

“Date tonight?” Dallas asked as he slid a stack of plates into the cupboard.

“You bet.”

Pops chuckled, nudging Dallas. “That’s why your brother is upstairs primping.”

“Oh, Ian, let him be,” Mama D scolded, eyes dancing.

“Hey, I did it too,” Pops said, winking at her. “Always trying to impress the prettiest girl of all.”

Mama D’s cheeks pinkened. “Go on, you.”

“C’mon, girl, let’s get you dolled up!” Melissa dragged me down the hall towards the bathroom.