Page 89 of The Wedding Favor

I gaped at her. “Excuse me?”

“Look, I don’t want to be mean…”

Never a good sign when someone says that. You’re guaranteed the next words coming out of their mouth would be mean. Megan did not disappoint.

“…but Hallie isn’t the right fit for our pageant. She would embarrass herself and she’s supposed to represent our town.” Then she laughed. “Could you imagine? It would be like you entering the pageant.”

I closed my eyes and counted to ten, then to twenty. It hadn’t really helped but the first thing I saw was Hallie on the other end of the parking lot, looking so small and sad, and I’m not sure what happened exactly.

The past weekend had been a roller coaster of emotions followed by the most awkward three-hour car ride in history with Abe, who I definitely could not have feelings for, and then Ellie and my job at the Sit-n-Eat and needing to talk to Mae and years of feeling like I was more burden than family member and not knowing what my future looked like and… well… I said a thing.

“I guess we’re all about to find out.”

“What does that mean?” Megan asked, confused.

“That means”—I leaned in—“Hallie and I are going to enter that pageant and prove you wrong.”

It was five minutes later, on the way to Abe’s house, that it hit me. Had those words really come out of my mouth? Had I been possessed? I took my foot off the gas and slammed on the brakes, right there in the middle of the country road between the church and Abe’s house.

“No. No. No,” I said and then repeated myself. But louder. “No. No. No.”

“Iris?” Hallie said from the backseat. “Is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not.” I thunked my head on the steering wheel a few times. This was what happened when you cared about people; you did stupid things for them. If I’d just stayed in my lane—hello, indifference—this never would have happened. But no, I had to love Hallie and I had to get angry and now… I shuddered.

“Are you going to be okay? Should we call my dad?”

“Yes,” I breathed. “I mean, no, we’ll just go see him and he’ll put his foot down and then I’ll have a legitimate reason for not entering.”

“Entering what?”

“A… thing.” I put my foot on the gas and willed Mae’s car to go just a little faster. To Abe. He would fix this. I was so sure of it, I wasn’t even going to mention it to Hallie.

“Don’t worry,” Hallie said when we climbed out of the car at the shop. “Dad will know how to help.”

Al’s Auto Shop was a street over from Main Street. The newly painted building was squat and long, with three bay doors for cars. Hallie slipped her hand in mine as we crossed the small shop parking lot. My sad, broken car was parked in the corner. Abe said he would have it done by the end of the summer. I should have asked him to clarify the summer of what year. The shop had come a long way the last month or so. The whole building had been painted, the windows replaced, and a new sign had been placed in the front. Now, the place said “I can fix your car,” instead of “murder scene.”

The bay doors were open and Jeff, one of the guys Abe had hired and a lifelong Two Harter, was power washing the concrete floor in the shop. He turned off the washer and pulled off his headphones when he saw us. “Ladies, how’s it going?”

Hallie ran over and gave him a high five. “Jeff.”

“Hal.” He grinned.

“What are you doing?”

“Power washing. It’s awesome.”

“Can I help?”

“Sure.” He glanced at me. “If that’s okay?”

I nodded. “Is Abe inside?”

“Yeah.”

I made my way into the small waiting area off the shop and was pleasantly surprised when I was hit with a blast of air conditioning. That was new, too. This little area still needed a lot of TLC. The peeling wood paneling on the walls and the scuffed, filthy linoleum flooring was the opposite of friendly. Never mind the small holes in the walls the plumber had made to access pipes. Or the very large hole they had to knock out to evict the possum family that had moved in.

I leaned against the counter. I needed a minute. Or a month. I couldn’t rush in there like a bear was chasing me (the only time you’d find me running); I needed calm and collected. This was simple. I’d stride confidently to Abe’s office and explain how toxic pageant culture was (which was true anyway). Why expose her to all the catty comments and judgment? (Also, true.) He’d agree and refuse to let Hallie enter. Then, of course, I would follow suit in a show of solidarity. This plan was brilliant.