I heard about most of the gory details from Paris, since Velveteen rarely opened up to me.
“Tell me.” I leaned back in my chair and popped a few more Skittles in my mouth.
“Ralph had one too many tequila shots at the vow renewal, and he stepped on Mom’s train and tore her dress completely from her body,” she said, sounding horrified but also bursting out in laughter.
“Nooooo,” I said, because Missy Beaumont was the most proper woman I’d ever met. She never left the house without a French manicure and a proper cardigan or with a hair out of place. I couldn’t fathom herbeing stripped naked on the altar. “Like, completely off her body? Or she was holding it in place.”
“Completely off her body. It all happened so fast. He staggered up there, tripped, Mom went to jump out of the way, and it just ripped away, like one of those magicians who makes the outfit disappear.”
“My God. Missy must have been beside herself.” I chuckled while trying to sound concerned. She was Paris’s mother, after all.
“Well, luckily she was covered in shapewear from head to toe, so it wasn’t like an ounce of skin was showing, but she had a meltdown, and we had to call the night short.”
“Everyone appeared to be fully dressed in the family photo,” I said, studying the post on Instagram again.
“That was taken before Tequila Gate.” She laughed. “It was fine the next day. Ralph stuck to piña coladas the rest of the trip, per Velveteen’s orders. Apparently, rum doesn’t bring out his crazy.”
“How the hell am I going to control him at this wedding?” I groaned.
“Yes. Your house better be done by the wedding, because I’m staying with you. Huntington and Brenton want to stay at your house too. Let the old people stay at the hotel.”
“Velveteen is younger than me,” I reminded her.
“But she’s twenty-seven going on ninety. She’s no fun. We want to stay with you. I bet Ralph would rather stay at your house too,” she said over her laughter.
“That’s a hard no. I still can’t believe she’s marrying this guy.”
“I know. I think we’re all shocked. But Mom loves that he comes from money, so she seems okay with it.”
“At least she has her priorities straight.” I chuckled before glancing at my email inbox to see a new message that had just popped up from Charlie Huxley. The subject line was in all caps.
Urgent!
“Maybe you should try giving her some sisterly advice. You know a lot about weddings, too, as you plan them for a living.”
“I am the last person to give relationship advice. I avoid them like the plague. Plus, she never listens to me. She hates me,” I said, because we both knew it was true.
“No. She’s jealous of you. Always has been. And she might act like a spoiled brat around you, but she talks about you nicely behind your back.”
A laugh escaped my lips. “Oh really? She’s nicer behind my back, huh?”
“Yep. She also got a little loosey-goosey on the trip, and she made some comments that she wished she cared less about what people thought about her, like you do. She went on and on about how she wants to give less shits about the opinions of others, and she kept referencing you.”
“The saying is ‘less fucks.’ And is that supposed to be a compliment?” I asked dryly.
“If Velveteen is admitting her flaws and mentioning being more like you—it’s definitely a compliment.” She chuckled.
I groaned. “That’s up for debate. I’ve got to get to a meeting. I’ll call you later.”
“Love you, Vi.”
A sharp pain hit my chest at her words. If not for my three youngest siblings, I wouldn’t have any relationship with my father. But I loved them and they loved me, so it kept me in this vicious cycle with my father and his wife.
“Love you too.” I ended the call and clicked on the email from Charlie.
Ms. Beaumont,
I received your change regarding the lighting in your primary bathroom. If you continue to make changes to the renovation plan, you can expect your timeline to change, as well as the price thatyou were initially quoted, if I have to keep my guys on this jobsite longer than expected. Please be aware that this is the last change that we can agree to and if we want to finish the project in the three months that we agreed upon.
