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“You look absolutely beautiful,” Bobbi said, coming up behind her and resting her chin on Betty’s shoulder.
For a moment Betty couldn’t say anything. The three girls stared at their reflection in the mirror—her sisters in pale champagne, and Betty in their mother’s wedding gown.
The dress had been handed down from their grandmother, a woman who’d been a huge fan of Jackie O, and this dress had been her homage to her idol. Raw silk, it was a strapless A-line that fell in a gentle line to her feet. The bodice was beaded and a little snug, but Betty didn’t think Beau would mind.
She smiled at the thought. Besides, her breasts nearly falling out of her dress should give some of the old biddies her gramps had insisted she invite something to talk about. It’s the least they expected from Betty Jo Barker, and Betty was all about pleasing people these days.
“I don’t know what I would have done without this, Bobbi. Walk down the aisle in a damn nightgown I guess.”
“It was weird timing, really. I was cleaning out the attic last week and came across some old photos and clothes. The dress box just happened to be on top and for some reason, I grabbed it and brought it home with me.”
“It’s like Mom knew, you know?” Billie said, softly. “It’s like she’s here with us.”
Throat tight, Betty nodded. She’d been thinking about her mother a lot lately. Wondering what the woman would have been like if she’d lived past her twenties. Would they be friends?
“Damn,” she muttered. “There goes my mascara again.”
She let her sister fix her face this time and concentrated on keeping her shit together.
When Bobbi was done, Betty cleared her throat. “I just want you girls to know how much it means to me that you’re both standing up for me on my wedding day. With Dad not being able to come, well it means the world.”
Billie looked at Bobbi, dabbing at her face. “Where else would we be?”
Betty Jo took a moment. “This could have gone another way. I was so nasty to you Billie, for so long. Blaming you for something that wasn’t your fault. I need for you to know that the way I treated you wasn’t what I felt inside. I never hated you, even when I acted like I did. I just didn’t…”
Now all three girls were dabbing at their eyes again.
“I didn’t know how to deal with what happened and I sure as hell didn’t know how to heal myself. Not for a long time, anyway.”
Billie hugged Betty Jo fiercely. “I’m glad you found Beau. Glad that he’s the one who healed you, but Betty you’re one of the strongest women that I’ve ever known and there’s no way in hell you would have let those assholes beat you. No way at all.”
A knock at the door interrupted the girls and they turned as Eden and Grace Simon entered the room.
Beau’s mother smiled, her eyes soft as she gazed at Betty Jo. “Oh, honey, you look stunning. And that dress, it’s perfect.”
“Thank you,” Betty Jo replied.
“Beau told me that you were wearing your mother’s gown.” Eden walked over and gave her hug. “She had impeccable taste and you have to know that wherever she is, she’s smiling down at you, so very proud.” Eden glanced at her sisters. “Of all of you.” Eden leaned closer. “We should go. Beau’s waiting.”
Beau’s sister, Grace—sporting purple hair and a mega watt smile—offered a hug and kiss. “So, about your friend, Matt,” Grace whispered.
“No,” Betty Jo said with a laugh. “Oh my God, no. He’s off limits.”
“Just thought I’d ask. He’s…” Grace grinned. “He’s so hot and angsty. Like he’s hiding secrets. Is it true he’s got kids?”
“Who told you that?” The gossip surrounding Matt Hawkins was relentless. The fact that it was gossip and most of it untrue didn’t really seem to matter all that much to those who liked to spread it.
“I don’t know. Someone.”
Betty sighed. “No. Some folks think he’s had kids with a few women in town, but it’s not true.” He might have slept with the women but Matt was pretty determined that he’d never have his own.
“I didn’t think so. He doesn’t seem the type to abandon a kid. You know, if he got someone pregnant.”
“He’s not.” Betty didn’t really have time for this conversation, but was curious. “Why are you asking?”
Grace shrugged. “He’s just…there’s something about him.”
“Sweetie, he’s too old for you.”
