Vinnie pulls another dress off the rack, this time for herself. "You know you're going to end up buying half the store again, right?"
"It's called retail therapy. Besides, Ethan loves when I dress up for our dates." She says primly. "I'll come back Monday during lunch to get that emerald one. And the black one. Oh, and that cute top."
"Knew it," Amelia whispers to me.
"Ethan's actually cooking tonight. And Lily's coming over for a sleepover. We're doing face masks and watchingFrozenmovies."
"His little sister still the best third wheel ever?" Amelia teases.
"Please, that seven-year-old has more energy than both of us combined. She's probably already got her princess dress on." Vinnie gathers her purse. "I better go rescue him before she convinces him to do another tea party. Last time she put glitter in his hair and it took days to wash out."
"Go," I laugh. "Save your man from princess makeovers."
"Love you both!" Vinnie calls over her shoulder.
"I'll lock up," Amelia says, gathering the empty champagne glasses. "No point in you waiting around when I live upstairs."
"You sure?"
"Go, I’ll be fine."
I grab my dress and purse, giving her a quick hug. "Thanks for today."
"Try not to stress about the wedding too much!" I'm halfway to the door when Amelia callsout, "Hey, Ivy?"
"Yeah?"
She fidgets with a dress hanger, which is so un-Amelia it makes me pause. "I know I give you shit about Caleb, and overstep sometimes. It's just . . ." She meets my eyes. "You deserve someone who sees how incredible you are. Not someone who only half-sees you when it's convenient."
My throat tightens. "Ames . . ."
"I know, I know. You'rejust friends." She waves a hand, but her eyes are soft. "Just . . . promise you'll protect your heart?"
I manage a wobbly smile. "When did you get so wise?"
"Please, I've always been the smart one." She blows me a kiss. "Now go home and pack. And don't you dare take that tie-dye maxi dress. I don't care if it's comfortable, you're not actually a hippie at Coachella."
I laugh despite myself, grateful for how she always knows when to pull me back from the emotional edge. "Love you, you menace."
"Love you more."
The Logan Airport parkinggarage carries the scent of exhaust fumes and damp pavement. Honestly? The most on-brand way to kick off a train wreck of a morning.
"We're going to be late." Dad stands there in his cargo shorts and blue polo tucked into his belt. His socks are yanked halfway to his knees like a dad-themed fashion statement. "I told you we should have left earlier."
I grip my phone tighter, resisting the urge to mention that we're four hours early. Or that I've been awake since four a.m., thanks to him bellowing, "ARE YOU UP?" every five minutes. Or that my headphones are dead because I forgot to charge them last night, which meant an hour of news radio on the drive here while he ranted about gas prices.
"Greg." My mom fusses with the floral sundress she specifically bought for the wedding week. Her highlighted hair is already starting to curl in the late May humidity despite her best efforts with the straightener this morning. "We have plentyof time."
He huffs but softens slightly under her steady gaze. Thirty years of marriage and she's got a black belt in Greg-wrangling. "Well, if Ivy had driven with us—"
"Vinnie was already heading to Cresden to see her mom," I cut in, for the tenth time. "It made more sense for them to drive together." The truth was I told her to avoid the car ride nightmare with my dad if she had that opportunity.
"Since when does anything make sense with you kids?" he grumbles.
Mom catches my eye and winks. "Remember when you made us drive three hours to pick up that motorcycle part instead of getting it shipped?"
"That was different," Dad protests. "Besides, that Harley—"
