“I need more coffee,” my mom announced as she emerged from Juvie, a cup in her hand. “It’s definitely a two-pot morning.”
“It’s actually afternoon,” I pointed out.
She made a face at me as the door banged. A moment later, Liz appeared. She was, indeed, carrying a comically large water bottle. A straw, jaunty, poked out the top.
“Oh God. I’d forgotten about the pistachios,” she said, putting it down with a clank. She began to gather glasses and trash. “This is why I don’t drink. Anne! Did you not go home to change?”
“Not yet,” Anne replied.
“We don’t have that much time, honey. The venue walk-through is at one.” Liz looked at us, adding, “There will be mock-ups of table settings, flowers, everything. I can’t wait to see it.”
Anne did not respond. In fact, she’d gone very still again, although I could see her through the little windows of the dollhouse.
The door sounded again and Kasey came in. “Well, look who’s finally stirring. The dancing queens.”
“I seem to remember some booty shaking from your direction as well,” Liz said. She picked up her water bottle, taking a big sip of the straw.
“And I felt every bit of it when I was up at six thirty,” Kasey replied, stifling a yawn. “Cardoon and his vans. He showed up as soon as I unlocked the door.”
I looked at Lana, who was our Cardoon contact. But she was staring at the dollhouse, and Anne behind it.
“Hey,” she said, her voice sharp. “What’s wrong?”
Liz looked at her daughter. “Something’s wrong?”
Anne remained silent. Finally, she said in a small voice, “I called off the wedding.”
It took us a minute. Then Lana said, “Wait,what?”
Anne cleared her throat, glancing at Liz. “Last night. Before the clambake.”
No wonder she’d been so quiet on the ride home. And how had she been talking about mail trucks before that? “Pretty big thing to keep all to yourself,” I said.
“Especially with all that dancing,” Kasey added. “Inhibitions were being lost left and right.”
“Shhh!” Liz waved a hand at us, then turned back to Anne. “Sweetheart! What happened?”
“We were talking with Kathy and Joe about the dresses.” Anne swallowed, visibly, then tucked a lock of her pale hair behind one ear. “Well,theywere talking. I was trying to, but everyone kept cutting me off, or speaking over me altogether.When I finally got a word in, I heard myself say I didn’t want to get married anymore. And it was true.”
“Wow,” my mom said. “Well. Good for you.”
It was not lost on me that blowing up a tradition was what immediately got my mom’s approval.
“If it doesn’t feel right, it isn’t right,” Liz said. Anne’s eyes filled with tears. She moved over to collect her daughter in her arms. “You trusted your instincts. That’s the bravest thing you can do.”
“I don’t feel brave.” Anne sniffled. “Just sad.”
As her mom again patted her shoulder, I looked over at the dollhouse. The tiny living room and porch were set for what looked like a party: chairs lined up, a couple of plastic pots with tiny colorful flowers on either side of them. The piano there too, the little cakes arranged neatly on top of it. All that was missing was the people. So that was what Anne had been doing over here, all this time.
It was so much easier in miniature. You could make a world just like you wanted, furnishing it as you would a room: love, family, friends, each with their own set place. At full-size and in real life, things got complicated. If only you could hold all you wanted in the palm of your hand.
“Seriously?” Ben said. “She’d just called off the biggest thing she’s got going and she’s talking to us about mail trucks?”
“I thought the same thing,” I said.
We were sitting against the Egg’s door, his arms around me, legs tangled together. When I’d come around the cornerand up the ramp, we hadn’t greeted each other or even spoken. I’d just gone right to him, sliding my hands around his neck and pressing my lips to his. We’d only missed one night recently. But I still had this feeling, like I needed to make up for the lost time.
Maybe it was Anne, who had been so certain since I’d met her about not only her own future but mine, as well. If a wedding—the ultimate plan, with all the accompanying details and moving pieces—could be canceled, what did that mean for the smaller things, even if they felt big to me?
