I take in a breath so sharp and fast it sounds as if I’ve inhaled a button right off my cardigan. And just as I’m about to contest the idea, I think better of it. Not only do I not want to land my sister in a tizzy, I certainly don’t want to raise Sunday’s blood pressure over something that is clearly none of her knocked-up business.
“Fine.” I reach over and take up her warm, slightly swollen hand. “I won’t go back. I’m sure when the time comes, I’ll meet my Mr. Right. There’s no reason I need to run back to that petri dish of disease and desperation just to please my girl parts.” So I say. I offer a cheesy grin to go along with it.
Her nose twitches at the descriptor. “Good. And you’re right. You’re going to meet someone great, and I predict it will happen very, very soon. You’re a real find. Any guy alive would be lucky to have you. But every guy wants you, so you know what that means? It means you, my fair-feathered friend, get the pick of the litter.”
“Pick of the litter,” I say, lacking the proper enthusiasm. “Why does it sound like I’m about to get a puppy?”
“Better a puppy of good breeding than an old dog from the Anonymous pound.”
“You got me there.” I run my finger over the rim of my coffee, suddenly downcast at the direction this conversation has taken. I was hoping Sunday would share my unbridled enthusiasm, and here she’s stuck a pin in my potentially coital parade. Thoughts of that dimly lit room come rushing back to me. A brief vision of myself lying over one of those round cushioned sofas they had littering the place comes to mind. Me on all fours. The Punisher with the incredibly soft lips straddling me from behind, and I startle back to life. “So the Fourth is coming up. That’s the big day, right? What’s on the agenda?”
“Something small.” She lifts her brows as if schooling me. Deep down, Sunday must know that I would never let anything small fly on her wedding day. “Seth and I were content with city hall, but no thanks to Lex we’re more than happy with the overlook.” She mouths a quickthank you. “But it’s going to be simple. Just a preacher and a few vows. Seth says we should order cupcakes from Sprinkles and have them delivered.”
“Perfect. I’ll pick them up myself. My treat.” Something small? Simple? Ha! I know for a fact this will be Sunday’s one and only trip down the petal-strewn aisle. Sunday and Seth are lifers. There’s no way I’m letting her get away with something humdrum and forgettable. I’ll make sure to make this a noteworthy event whether or not she approves. It might be her special day, but I’m nice enough not to allow her to ruin it for herself.
Sunday checks her phone and jumps out of her seat, her belly catching on the table in what looked like an uncomfortable bump.
“I gotta run. Seth and I are catching a matinee, then going to dinner with Nolan and Misty.”
“Nolan and Misty?” Nolan is her older brother, and Misty is Seth’s older sister. “Could there be anything more adorable than this sibling-inspired double date? You realize it borders on incestuous.” I can’t help but tease her—and I don’t see me letting up about it anytime soon. It’s far too much fun.
“Oh shush, you.” She leans in for a quick embrace. “You’re just jealous because Seth doesn’t have a hot brother.”
“You got me there.” And I certainly wouldn’t complain.
“Try not to have too much fun.” I make a face. “You just remember you have the most fun with me—outside of Seth and all that magic that goes on in the bedroom.”
Sunday averts her eyes as she speeds off with a wave. “We’ll have fun again soon!” She hits the door and gasps my way as if she just had a horrible epiphany—thedid I leave the oven onordid I leave my three-year-old at the malltype of horrible revelation. “And don’t you dare have any fun without me! You stay away from that wicked hovel, or I’ll hunt you down myself.” Her cheeks twitch as she grins. “On second thought, I might just bring your big sister along for the ride.”
Sunday jets out the door, but not before sending a chill up my spine. Lex would have a world-class meltdown if she knew I was cavorting with the coital crowd down in Jepson. It’s not that Jepson is innately bad. It has its ritzy side, too. It’s just that downtown Jepson is known for its free STDs and not-so-esteemed derelict population. It’s not a place my sister would care for me to wander off to—my brother either for that matter.
And just as I’m about to text them both a simple good morning—before the guilt eats me up alive now that I realize I’ve broken every unspoken rule they’venevergiven me—than a familiar brunette strides past me, and something about that elf-like nose, those extremely long lashes you could ski off makes me freeze. I know her from somewhere.
That niggling feeling in the back of my mind won’t seem to let go of this one. School? I don’t think so. A touch too old. The Black Bear? I’m familiar with all of my regulars. I’m pretty sure I would remember her a bit clearer if she were one, unless, of course, she’s a one-off. Maybe she’s the one who left the penny upside down at the edge of the table last week? My grandmother used to tell me there was no bigger slight you could afford a waitress. But I doubt it.
She lets out a braying cackle, and I take in a never-ending breath.
It’s her!
I hop to my feet and don’t waste a minute blocking her path to the creamer.
“Hey! Belinda! How are you doing?” I start a touch too friendly, far too bright and sunny for this early in the morning. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
She stares up at me, bewildered, and I’d swear on all that is holy she’s about to body-check me and make a run for it. “Are you in my class?” she practically mouths the words.
“Do you teach at Briggs?” This petite pixie-looking creature suddenly fascinates me. Beautiful as she might be, she has an undeniable otherworldly quality about her. She has that poise and beauty that men would be instantly attracted to. For a second, I envision Shep drooling over her feet, and I instantly like her a little bit less. Shep might have slighted me all those years ago, but that never changed the fact a part of me always claimed him as my own.
“No, not Briggs.” She nods her head toward the door while taking a quick sip of her coffee. “The gym down the street. I was just getting a quick pick-me-up. Nothing beats Hallowed Grounds.” She gives a wistful shake of the head. “I’m a Briggs alum. I should know.”
“Oh, nice.” I’m suddenly warming back up to her. “But that’s actually not where I recognize you from. You were at the bar with your sister—the bitter brides? How is your sister doing anyhow? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Her lids spring like shades. Her mouth rounds out as if I just struck her.
“Hannah? She’s fine.” It comes out curt as if it were a nasty comeback to an equally nasty verbal assault, and for the life of me I don’t know what I missed. A second ago I thought she was going to upsell me on a yoga class and the gym’s gold membership plan, and suddenly she’s spewing piss and vinegar.
“That’s great to hear. Will you be back? At the Black Bear? I was your waitress that night.” I wince because I think we both know what that night entailed. “I mean, it sort of ended on a sour note, but I’d love to see you guys again. You were a ton of fun. And if you do come back, you’ll have to bring the bridal bling. You were amazing. Sort of like dinner theater.”
Dinner theater? Note to self: shut up while you’re ahead.
