Page 49 of The Wedding Favor

ME: Was there a question in there somewhere?

Aidan: Iris, I’m your best friend. I worry about you.

Maybe you shouldn’t worry about me anymore, I typed out. And then erased it.

About that best friend thing… I deleted that, too.

With a groan, I left him on read and flopped back on my bed. I stared at the fake wood paneling on the ceiling. Grammie had bought this place when my mom was a kid, and it showed. But I liked it here. It was safe. I knew where everything was and this space, my room, it was all mine. When I was a teenager, I’d put a sign on the outside of the door which read NO, YOU CAN’T COME IN HERE. DON’T EVEN ASK.

It was still on my door.

A lot of teenage Iris was still in this room. The posters for My Chemical Romance, Sunny Day Real Estate, and Paramore hung slightly off kilter on the wall opposite my bed. The dresser Mom had found for free, and I’d insisted on painting black, lived on the same wall. Another wall I’d covered in doodles and words, song lyrics, and poorly drawn pictures with permanent marker. There was a large corkboard with carefully selected photos, like the one of me with Mom, Mae, and Grammie when I was about nine. The sliding door to my closet was open and a striking amount of black clothing took up most of the space.

But if you knew where to look, there were bits of grown-up Iris in here, too. For instance, in the back of the closet, the retro dresses with the cinched waist and A-line skirts in bright, whimsical fabrics, waiting for a day when I was brave enough to wear them.

My college diploma, mounted and framed, hung above my bed. Next to it was a small shelf with a collection of treasures I’d found at thrift stores—a chubby pink piggy bank from the 1950s, a cigar box, a few old glass medicine jars and bottles.

I’d switched out my black comforter and sheets a few years ago for one of the quilts I’d found among Grammie’s things. It had been made by her mother. A crazy quilt pieced together with little bits of leftover fabric and tiny, neat stitches. It was old and worn, threadbare in some places, and I loved everything about it.

I curled up on my side and faced the nightstand, studying the things on it—a lamp, a book, a giant jar of pickles, and a notepad.

I snagged the notepad and reviewed what I’d written earlier—my latest attempt at “finding a job that brought me joy,” or whatever the article was called. Step three: What is your dream job? It went on to explain that I should make a list of jobs that I would love if nothing was holding me back. “Think of when you were child. What did you want to be?”

Millionaire. (Shoot for the stars, right?)

A unicorn. (I’d asked Mom what I wanted to be when I was little. This was her answer. Not helpful.)

A ???????

I stared at those question marks with trepidation. I was beginning to think this article was not helping. With a groan, I tossed the notebook on my bed. My phone buzzed with another text.

Aidan: You don’t have to bring that guy just to have a plus one. I could set you up with one of my friends. If you need a date.

ME: Thanks, but I have it covered.

I glared down at the notebook. I wish I’d had my future covered, too.

Mae dropped by unannounced the next day. But she brought Lulu with her, so I didn’t mind.

“Eye-bis,” Lulu said, climbing onto my lap and squishing my face with sticky fingers. (The kid was perpetually sticky.) Mom was making dinner, so Mae put a movie on for Lulu and the two of us went into the kitchen to see if we could help.

“No, no. You two sit.” Mom set glasses of iced tea in front of us and a plate of double chocolate chip cookies. Because she was the best mom in the entire world.

“What brings you here today?” I asked Mae, selecting a cookie. “Let me guess… I seemed too happy, and you wanted to bring me down a peg?”

“Of course. It’s what I do.” Mae’s smile was a little scary.

“Don’t I know it,” I said around a bite of cookie. Mom kindly wapped me on my head with a dishtowel. “Ouch.”

“Be nice to your sister.” She sat in the seat next to Mae. “So, Chris leaves tomorrow.”

Mae slumped in her seat. “Yeah. I’m taking him to the airport early in the morning.”

Mom put an arm around her shoulders. “It’ll be tough, but it’s only for a little bit, right?”

“You’re right.” Mae looked away.

I put my hand on hers. Look, we bickered and fought but I never wanted to see her sad or lonely. “I’ll come over and help out whenever you need me.”