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“Oh boy,” Rowan said, pinching her temples.
“Am I missing intrigue?” Temperance theatrically tiptoed into the room.
Frankie gestured her over. “Most definitely.”
“Why are you two in here hissing at each other like barn cats?” Temperance asked.
Frankie handed her the phone. Temperance looked down at the photo, dipped her head closer to the screen, then held the phone at arm’s length, like she didn’t believe what she was seeing. She looked to Rowan, and back to the phone. “The caption says,Think I met my next sister-in-law.Is this Arden’s?”
Frankie bit her lip and nodded conspiratorially.
“Oh, god.” Rowan covered her face with both hands.
Temperance slid on her glasses to read some of the comments. “Christ, some of these people are thirsty. This one says,FML, I thought I was going to marry him.”She looked up and took off her glasses. “What does FML mean?”
“Fuck my life,” Rowan said.
“Oh, honey. I don’t think this is that bad—”
“No, Temperance. That’s what FML means.”
Frankie snatched her phone back. “Here’s another one.Do I have to stop objectifying him now?And there’s a nice one about you, Ro.I would kill for her hair, it says. Wait, does this person want to murder you and make a wig of your hair?”
“There’s an OB-GYN joke, isn’t there? Someone definitely mentioned a pelvic exam at least once,” Temperance said.
“Obviously,” Frankie said, scrolling with her finger. “Here’s one that says—”
“Enough. Please.” Rowan turned her face to the ceiling and closed her eyes.
Frankie and Temperance were quiet for a beat. Temperance said, “What’s wrong?”
Rowan looked at her friend, lovely and slight. A few silvery tendrils of hair fell artfully around her face. For all that Temperance looked delicate, she had a spine of pure titanium, and she was unyielding when it came to protecting her friends. Rowan had known for months that T.J. was in an awkward position between her and Harrison, and she was terrified to upset her, or worse, let her down.
“I don’t know, T.J.”
“You do know, that’s why your ears have gone as red as Frankie’s lipstick. You like him. You like Harry.”
“I don’t know.”
“Bullshit,” Temperance said.
“I know this is weird for you,” Rowan said.
Frankie slid the phone into her pocket. “Why would it be weird for her? I think we all know Harry isn’t the Brady boy for Temperance, anyway.”
Temperance blanched and snapped her head sideways to glare at Frankie.
“NowI’mthe one who’s confused,” Rowan said.
“It’s nothing.” Temperance sent a warning look to Frankie. “We’re not talking about me right now, anyway. If you and Harry are kindling something, don’t make me your wet blanket.”
“What about what you said back in the fall? About complications.”
Temperance softened and sighed. “That was Mother Hen Temperance. She’s tied up and gagged right now. This is her hot, single twin sister, Wedding Weekend Temperance.” She gave Rowan a breezy jazz-hands wave. “We’re too old and I’m too tired to try to run interference between you two. Just please,pleasedon’t ask me to choose sides.”
For a few moments, the three women stood in silent solidarity. Frankie flicked her camera back on. “Well. I need to get back to terrorizing Kylo Ren in there.”
“Who?” Temperance and Rowan said in unison.
