The last thing I want to do after the last twenty-four hours is party.
But here I am anyway, walking into the wedding I planned. A wedding that’s not happening. A wedding that has now turned into a liberation celebration.
According to Izzy, it was all her idea. She didn’t want to waste all my or her brother’s hard work, and I absolutely love her for that. She just got her heart ripped to shreds yesterday, had her whole future snatched away from her, and she’s worried about us.
That kind of selflessness is what started our friendship in the first place years ago, which makes what happened to her yesterday an even harder pill to swallow.
I have never been so mad at someone before. It’s why I let Noah land punch after punch. I wanted to jump in and join him, but he’s had a lot more practice at it than me, so I let him be.
The ride back to my apartment was brutal. I’ve never seen Izzy cry so hard before, not even when her grandfather on her dad’s side died, and it killed me that I couldn’t hold her through it.
Which is exactly what I did when I finally got her into my apartment. I sat on the couch next to her, and I just let her cry. She went through two boxes of tissues before she finally came up for air.
Then she ranted. And ranted some more. Just when I thought she was done, she kept going. I don’t blame her one bit. If I were her, I would still have things to say.
Idohave things to say. To Noah.
I’m just not sure I’m ready to face him yet, even though I miss him more than I’ve ever missed anyone else before.
So badly that after Izzy finally fell asleep around 2:00 a.m., I had to give my keys to Beans, who then took them right under the couch with her. I was too tempted to drive out to the farm and see Noah one last time.
My nervousness to see him is exactly why I’m walking into this party thirty minutes late.
Well, that, and I am horrible at being on time.
“Odette!” my mother calls out, making her way through the packed barn toward me.
She wraps me in her arms, hugging me tightly, but it’s nearly impossible to focus on that.
“What are you wearing?” I ask when she pulls away. It’s a lavender dress with puffy sleeves that went out of style nearly twenty years ago and detailing that’s just as tacky, yet it looks vaguely familiar.
“Oh? This old thing? I found it in the back of my closet. This is what I wore to your aunt Collette’s wedding.” Ah, so that’s where I remember it from. “Can you believe it still fits?”
She twirls, showing me the back. It doesn’t fit. In fact, it’s only zipped up halfway, but it still looks great on her.
“Why are you wearing it, though?”
“It’s a party, isn’t it? Figured I’d dress up for the occasion.” She winks at me.
Hmm. Weird. But I suppose she’s right.
I opted not to wear the maid of honor dress Izzy had picked, swapping it instead for a simple black one that hits just above my knees. It’s minimalist and something I’d probably wear to a funeral instead of a party, but since I feel like that’s where we’re at anyway, it’s fitting.
“Well, it looks great. Is Nonna here with you?”
“Yes, dear. She’s right over there.” She points to where she came from, and I spot my nonna sitting at a table with all my aunts surrounding her.
Each one of them is wearing something more ridiculous than the last. Krista is wearing a lavender dress similar to my mother’s. Rita wears an all-white pantsuit—a veil covering most of her face. Collette has on a cream A-line dress and a big, matching floppy hat.
Then there, right in the middle, is my nonna, wearing a wedding dress.An actual wedding dress.One I know quite well from old photos. It’s the one she wore when she married her first husband.
They look so silly and out of place, yet somehow exactly like they belong.
What in the world is going on?
“That dress sure is ... something.”
My mother giggles. “Isn’t it? I remember swearing up and down as a child that I would never wear something so gaudy at my own wedding.” She leans in, her hand up to her lips as she whispers, “Mine was way worse.”
