“We need to finish clearing up,” Shannon says. Her voice is strained.
He dismisses this immediately. “It’s basically done. I’ll come back and finish it tomorrow.”
“What about the cards? I wanted to go through them tonight.”
“There’s no way that’s a two-man job. You just doit.”
“Sure,” she says flatly. If Dan notices her tone, he ignores it, reminding her to leave the garage door open before disappearing back the way he came.
The glass door seals us into the quiet kitchen, the only sound the click of the Tupperware lid as Shannon snaps it into place. I can’t think of a single thing to say that isn’tthat guy sucks,and neither, apparently, canshe.
“What a day!” Mom glides into the room with a triumphant grin. “And here they are! My girls, together at last.” She smacks a loud kiss on my cheek, and then my sister’s.
She’s delightfully rumpled, the scent of sangria mingling with her perfume, her cheeks rosy from an entire afternoon of gossip with Aunt Irene and her friends. All that’s left of her lipstick is a faint line around the edge of her lips.
“Did you have fun, Mom?”
“I thought it went very well,” she says. “But how about our beautiful bride?”
We wait for Shannon to respond, but she’s lost in thought, spooning the fruit salad back into its container.
“Shan?” I prompt.
“Hmm?”
“Did you have a good time?”
“Definitely,” she says, in the least convincing performanceI’ve ever seen. Mom shoots me a look that saysdid you do something?I shake my head.
“That reminds me!” Mom’s voice has gone up about ten octaves. “Irene says the Millers are thinking of downsizing.”
Shannon looks up, eyes kindling at the prospect of the Miller house going up for sale. “Do they have a realtor?”
I slip away while the two of them launch into their favorite subject and head back into the garden, taking my sweet time stacking the folding chairs against the side of the house and then gathering up the table linens under my arm. Dan’s definition ofbasically doneand mine are very different.
I’m about to head inside when I hear the fence swing open and smack back against its hinges.
“Forgot my wallet,” Dan says, coming into view. His smile drops the second he realizes it’sme.
“There’s still a lot to do here,” I say, gesturing around the garden. “Sure you don’t want to hang around for a while and head down later?”
“I’m sure,” he says.
“So nice to see you’re still striving hard for the world’s worst boyfriend award. How many years have you won it in a row now, Dan?”
“Got a newsflash for you,” he sneers. “It’s fiancé. Don’t know if you noticed today’s theme, but there’s a wedding happening soon.”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “Though no one says you have to be the groom.”
“Of the two of us, I don’t think it’s my invitation we need to worry about.”
“Yeah well, we’ll see. There’s no saying when you might start pulling a few more late nights over at town hall.”
“A lot of chairs to put away,” he says, like I hadn’t just spoken. “Looks like you’ll be here a while. And don’t forget the cards.”
He swipes his wallet off a nearby table and walks out the way he came. I fight the impulse to grab him by the collar and drag him back by force, or even better, to run him out of town with a pitchfork.
I promised to be good, and I was. I did not ruin the party. I have not said a word to Shannon, or to anyone else, about the wedding, or Dan, or how much he sucks, or about how my sister is throwing her life away on this loser.
