How is it only noon?” I asked.
“Restaurant time,” Clark told me. “Like dog years, but faster.”
I yawned, covering my mouth with my hand. Despite the coffee I’d pounded, I could feel the past few days catching up with me. Like the hummingbird I’d seen that night in Kasey’s garden, trying to be still while still buzzing, buzzing.
In the end, my mom hadn’t put up much of a fight about me staying on. As odd of a request it might have seemed to her—and she did seem momentarily speechless, initially—she’d save time by not having to drop me back home. Plus Liz and Kasey had both been fine with it when she checked with them, as was my dad.
Now the screen door opened behind us and Kasey stuck her head out. “Good news. The truck got up to the house. Now we just have to get it back out.”
“Get the cardboard just in case,” Lana told her.
“On it. There are some boxes in the storeroom.”
“I’ll break them down,” Clark said, getting to his feet.
Beep.Kasey pulled her phone out of her pocket, glancing at it. “Okay, Liz says they are moving fast and I should getthere ASAP,” she reported. “Also, don’t talk to her about the wedding.”
“Who?” Clark asked.
As if in response, a small blue car bumped around the building, pulling up in front of us. Anne was behind the wheel. Just like that, I remembered the bridesmaid drama from earlier.
“Hey,” Lana called out as she killed the engine. “What’s happening with the—”
“They don’t like the dresses,” Anne finished for her, not even fully out of the car yet. She was in shorts and a baggyLAKE NORTH YACHT CLUBT-shirt, sneakers on her feet. “With three weeks and two days to go. I sent them the links back at Christmas, asking for feedback. Got none. Why would they wait until now?”
“Because they’re bitches,” Lana told her. “Just like that wedding planner.”
“Lana,” Kasey said.
“And then,” Anne continued, “when I pointed out that I’d picked those dresses specifically to complementmine, they started talking about how maybe I should change too! With three weeks and two days to go!”
“How long?” Clark asked under his breath.
“Clark.” Kasey again.
“I can’t get another dress!” Anne continued, her voice rising in notches with each word. “I already gave up my venue and my flowers. What’s left?”
“Okay,stop.” Lana put a hand up. “Take a breath. You’re going to pass out.”
We all watched as she sucked in air. I did too, like it would help. Then we exhaled. I felt better. Anne burst into tears.
“Oh dear,” Kasey exclaimed as Ben, who’d been sitting on a nearby crate, disappeared inside. A moment later, he returned with a glass of water, packed with ice, which he handed to Anne. She took it, then stood there, still crying.
“No offense,” Lana said to her. “But weddings really seem to suck.”
“This one is supposed to be perfect!” Anne burbled. The glass dripped.
Bzzzzzz.Kasey looked at her phone. “Uh-oh. Liz says they’re trying to take the dollhouse. Unreal. I put the blue sticker on myself!”
“Thedollhouse?” Anne demanded. Suddenly, she was not only somehow composed but enraged. “Nope. Not happening.”
She put down the glass with a clank on the dock, then stomped down the ramp. Lana gave me wide eyes before scrambling after her. I followed. We barely made it into Anne’s car before she pulled away.
“I can’t believe this,” she muttered as I yanked at my seat belt. After the briefest of pauses to check traffic, we shot across to the driveway and started bumping over roots. “It’s supposed to beourchoice what stays and goes. They can’t just take everything!”
“Okay,” Lana said, grabbing the handle over her window, “I don’t think this is just about the dollhouse.”
“Why is everyone so awful?” Anne continued, over this.“Why?”
