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“I really don’t want everybody seeing it,” I whisper. Please, be my mother for once.
“Of course, you don’t. Neither do I.” She wipes away the disgust on her face quickly, but not quick enough that I miss it. She thinks I’m disgusting and doesn’t want something so ugly ruining her big day. It shouldn’t surprise me by now. Nothing she does should surprise me.
“Well, that’s fine,” she decides. “I’m sure there has to be something around here you can wear. So long as it’s the same color, you should be fine. But there’s no time to have it fitted, so you’ll have to find something that fits you off the rack.”
I change quickly before going out to the sales floor and combing through racks of dresses. I have the original dress over my arm to make sure the color matches, and it looks like there isn’t much to choose from in my size. In fact, after checking out every single rack in the store, there’s only one dress I end up taking back to the fitting room.
Mom has now changed back into her street clothes and is sipping her second glass of champagne. I guess calories don’t count if you’re drinking them. “Let’s see it on you,” she urges, steering me toward the dressing room again.
Right away, I see the problem with this one. Sure, it covers my back, but it barely covers my ass. I tug it as hard as I can, but that’s not going to magically add a few inches of material. I’m almost ashamed to open the curtain and show everybody how much of me is on display.
Mom shrugs. “It fits you well. A little shorter than I’d like, but if it’s our only choice, so be it.”
“Maybe I could wear the other dress, but with like a shawl or something?” I shoot a hopeful look toward the woman who’s been helping Mom through this, and she taps her chin with one shiny nail.
“I don’t think we have anything in that color, I’m afraid. With a little more time, we could order something.”
“Then I suppose this is the dress we’re going with.” Mom polishes off the rest of her champagne, and that’s that. I’m going to spend the entire ceremony hoping nobody is looking at my butt cheeks. Then again, what else was I going to be doing? Gritting my teeth while pretending there’s nothing gross about watching her play the happy, perfect wife so glowingly in love with her Prince Charming?
At least this is over now. We leave the store with our dresses safe in their zipped-up bags, and immediately James jumps out of his shiny Mercedes to help us. “Everything go well?” he asks after kissing Mom. “I want everything perfect for my bride.”
“Everything already is, honey.” I hate the breathy, soft sound of her voice when she talks to him. James takes my dress and carefully lays it out in the trunk along with Mom’s.
But when I make a move to join them in the car, Mom shakes her head. “No, you’re not coming with us.” When James turns her way, probably because of the shrill way she said it, she quickly smiles. “Your brothers are picking you up. In fact, here they come.” Yes, unfortunately, a familiar truck is now pulling into the parking lot. My heart sinks while a bitter taste fills my mouth.
James is wearing sunglasses, so I can’t see his full expression, but there’s something unhappy in the way his mouth tightens. “I thought the three of us were going to go to lunch.”
“I wanted it to be just the two of us, honey.” She runs a hand over the back of his head. “I was only thinking about you and me spending a little time together before things get crazy.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I mutter, even though the idea of getting in the truck with the two of them makes my heart threaten to burst out of my chest. I’m sure they’re not thrilled about having to spend time with me any more than I am about spending time with them. The only difference is, I’m not the one who’s going to use this as an excuse to be a vile piece of shit.
The second I open the door, Colt’s voice assaults my ears. “Hurry up. We’re going to be late.”
Oh, no. If it wasn’t for Mom and James watching, I would close the door and head for the nearest bus stop. I have to grit my teeth through climbing in, even though my instincts are telling me to do anything but. “Late for what?” I ask once I’m belted.
“You’re starting work at the gym today,” Nix informs me. I catch his gaze in the rearview mirror. “Surprise.”
“But I’m not ready for this.”
“Too bad. That’s how it is.” Colt’s voice is flat as he raises a hand to greet his father before we pull away.
