“Why are you so cranky?” Paisley asks. “You always say you love it when Addie wears dresses.”
“He’s a total caveman when he sees naked women, and he won’t let me go into the changing room alone,” Addie tells her.
Paisley sticks out her tongue and crosses her eyes. “Filed underthings I will never ask again because ew.”
“Have you found anything?”
“No, I—actually, hand over that silver dress. What size is it?”
We leave the shop two hours later with the silver dress for Paisley for her sorority’s fall formal and with Addie texting Waverly to ask how much it’ll cost us to get another custom gown.
It’s baseball’s All-Star break again, but we’re not shopping for a gown for an auction.
We’re shopping for a gown for an awards dinner hosted by the city, where my beautiful fiancée will be receiving the highest service award you can get in Copper Valley. And then we’re shopping for wedding dresses.
And no, I don’t let her shop for wedding dresses alone either.
Which is why she’s having it custom-made by her own favorite seamstress back in Minnesota.
Addie’s still texting with Waverly when her phone rings.
Paisley and I stop when Addie stops, a frown wrinkling her forehead. “Two seconds, it’s my boss,” she says.
“Tell him no if he wants you to auction something off,” I tell her.
She shushes me and swipes to answer. “Hey, Lila. How’s your break?”
“She should’ve been coaching at the All-Star game,” Paisley whispers to me.
Loudly.
Addie freezes, her mouth forming anObefore a smile starts to take over. “He—but—oh. Well, yes. Of course. Absolutely, I’m ready… Tomorrow? You’re sure? I can be free today… Okay. Okay. Yes. Tomorrow. I’ll see you then. And Lila? Thank you.”
She hangs up the phone and stares at it.
After a moment, she lifts her face, and her eyes lock with mine.
And then she bursts into tears.
“H-happy,” she sobs as Paisley and I both attack her with hugs. “H-happy t-tears.”
“Why are we crying happy tears?” Paisley asks with a sniffle. “Dammit, Addie, you know I’m a sympathetic crier.”
I’m getting wet in the eyes too.
There are approximately three things in life that make Addie weepy.
Baseball movies.
Sometimes sex.
And hard-fought victories of her own or of someone she loves.
We’re not watching a movie.
We’re not having sex.
The Fireballs aren’t playing.
