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“Can I drive the Porsche?” she asks.
“No.” The word slips out effortlessly. There are a lot of things I can never say no to when she asks, but driving my Porsche isn’t one of them.
* * *
As soon aswe pull up to my sister, Beth’s, house, I notice the pink and gold streamers with balloons on either side of the front door.
“Looks like we’re at the right place,” I say, surveying the house.
Cars line the street so I pass the house, unnecessarily parking half a block away.
“Are you trying to get in your steps for the day?” Noelle asks, unbuckling her seatbelt.
“It’s so we don’t get blocked in and can’t leave,” I explain, shifting the car into park. It’s not that I don’t want to celebrate my sister, but I’m not much for crowds and parties. When I’ve had my fill, I don’t want any issues stopping me from leaving.
“Who needs school when your mother is your teacher?” She makes an exaggerated bow as we get out of the car.
“I put my arm around her shoulder as we walk down the sidewalk. “Stick with me, kid, and soon you’ll be learning how to pick locks,” I tease.
The front door is unlocked, and as soon as we enter, it’s an assault of pink everywhere. Pink streamers, pink balloons, pink plates with pink utensils…
Noelle curls her lip. “There’s a lot of pink,” she states the obvious, looking around, horrified.
“Be glad you weren’t asked to be a flower girl,” I retort, and shove her further into the house.
Beth greets us before we reach the living room. She’s a ball of nervous energy in her pink spaghetti strap dress with a flared skirt and bare feet.
Looking around at all the other guests wearing some form of pastel, I feel a bit out of place in my copper-colored blouse and black skirt. “Was there a dress code?” I ask.
Beth gives me an annoyed look. “On time as usual.” She ignores my question and then turns her attention to Noelle, smiling. “You look beautiful,” she says, squeezing her shoulders and pulling her in for a hug.
“So do you, Aunt Beth,” Noelle says.
“Your kid has better manners than you,” she says teasingly, but I know Beth and she likes to get in her little digs.
Looking across the room, I see her fiancée, Laura, with her younger sister, Ianna. Those are about the only two people I know here.
Beth scans the house. “Ashley’s here somewhere,” she tells Noelle, who then trots off in the direction of her cousin’s room.
“How’s Ashley doing?” I ask.
“She’s fine,” Beth says quietly, while walking me into the house.
Stopping her, I place my hand on her arm and pin her with a look.
“What?” I prod.
She turns to look at me, crossing her arms over her chest. “Eric’s being difficult about letting me have Ashley for the whole weekend of the wedding, and he’s picking her up later today,” she admits.
“He’s just pissed because Laura has a bigger dick than him and actually knows how to use it,” I say, tersely.
“Really, Lake?” Beth scoffs.
“What?” I shrug. “He’s your ex-husband, Beth,” I say. “Who cares what he thinks anyway?”
“Easy for you to say because you don’t have to share your kid with an ex-husband,” she says, maybe not realizing how insensitive she’s being.
“Yeah, real fucking lucky,” I say, cocking my head to the side.
