“P?” I mumbled, throwing the blanket weakly off my head. It wasn’t even bright outside, but the little bit of light assaulted my eyes and I had to close them for a beat before opening them again. Candace stood across my bedroom floor, one hand still on the curtain as she grinned at me, free hand on her hip. Standing at the foot of my bed was Paisley, who was ringing her hands anxiously, as if concerned that I might actually be angry that she was there. “Hi, P,” I said, clearing the frog from my throat. “Did Candace make you come?”
“I didn’t make her,” said Candace. “I invited her. She wanted to come. Apparently you have, like, friends or something.”
“Okay,” I struggled to sit up, wincing as my stiff limbs screamed awake. “But why were you two together anyway?”
“Funny story,” Candace said, and Paisley chuckled. “The salon I work at had a, um, fire emergency this morning. One of the techs left a curling iron on top of a stack of magazines.”
“Jesus,” I said. “Was anyone hurt?”
“Just Tiffany, but only because she tried to save the magazine with Gerard Butler on the cover and got burned.”
“Yes,” Paisley added before I could respond. “We did ask why she couldn’t just find another copy.”
Candace shrugged. “She didn’t have an answer. Tiffany was never the brightest tool in the ground.”
“The—”
“Anyway,” said Paisley, grinning with embarrassment. “I knew you weren’t feeling well last night, but Jayce mentioned to us that you were going to still try to go.”
Damn you, Gregory.
“So, what do you think? Are you feeling up to it?”
I wasn’t, not really, but I wasn’t about to tell them that. I knew how excited Candace was for this, and I was actually glad that Paisley was there. With Paisley to mediate the night, I might get home in a timely manner so I could fall back into bed.
“Fine,” I groaned, sliding off the mattress to get to my feet. I hadn’t the energy to change, so I was still wearing my jeans and Eagle River EMS t-shirt. I slipped my shoes on without untying them and straightened my shirt, brushing some lint from the fabric of my shirt.
“Okay,” Candace said. And for a moment, she looked like she wanted to say more. She opened her mouth, caught the quick, subtle shake of Paisley’s head over mine, and closed it again. “You look great, sweetie.”
“Thanks.”
“Jayce is a lucky,luckyman.”
Much to my dismay, Candace refused to just stop by Walmart and call it good. No, in fact we ended up driving all the way to Denver to hit every single downtown boutique and see probably close to one hundred dresses.
“Why are your torturing me?” I asked as Candace pulled into the parking lot of the first store of the night. “This is going to take all night long.”
“Don’t worry, that’s why we’re here,” Candace said, giving me a once over with what I could only assume was loving judgment as I stepped out of the car after her and Paisley. “Besides, Macey, you won’t be difficult to dress. You have hips for days.”
“Childbearing hips,” Paisley piped up, and I rolled my eyes.
“Why can’t Jayce go in the floozy dress and I go in the tux?”
“Because you’re a female,” hissed Candace. “Act like it.”
“It’s going to be fine, lady,” Paisley said, linking her arm in mine with a tender squeeze. It was simple, but it made me feel better. “You’ll have fun, I promise.”
“I think our definitions vary greatly,” I mumbled, but it became pretty clear to me as the night went on that I had about point five percent of a say that had anything at all to do with which dresses to try on, pick out, and wear.
In other words, I was just along for the torturous ride.
On our way to the fourth shop of the night, we stopped off at a small hole-in-the-wall diner for burgers and fries. In my opinion, that and that alone had been worth getting out of bed, if even just barely.
“If we don’t find this perfect dress at the next place,” I said through a mouthful of burger. “I’m going home.” I hadn’t eaten since the night before, so I felt ravenous, but even as the burger and potatoes hit my stomach, bile rose in my throat and I had to choke down some water to keep from vomiting it back up.
“We’ll see,” Candace said, glancing at her Fitbit. “It’s only nine. We still have some time.”
“Nine?” said Paisley. “It’s past my bedtime.”
