I’m grinning so stupidly, so broadly it should be illegal. I grab another fox and open another note.
Zero foxes given about anything but taking you out…for cake.
I feel deliciously carbonated now, a soda bottle all shook up.
I dip my hand in again and again, pulling out more foxesfrom a nearly never-ending supply. Finally, when I’m surrounded by tawny stuffies, I reach inside the gift bag and find a bigger card. This one has today’s date on it.
I flip it open.
There. It did happen.
He recreated the story of how he asked me out to make it real. After I send him a thank you text, laden with exclamation points, I spend the rest of the night redecorating with a dozen stuffed foxes, enjoying it more than it feels I should.
* * *
I rattle off the details of the wedding for my therapist, Elena, the next day at our early evening session. “And Caroline has her own wedding planner, but I’ve been managing some things for her too. Don’t worry though—I want the things I’m planning to be perfect, but nottooperfect,” I say, a nod to one of the things I’ve been working on with her.
“That’s good to hear because we can’t control everything. Or most things, but it’s good to remind yourself that you can handle the outcome regardless of what happens. Just like you handled the Jumbotron situation,” she says. With warm bronze skin and a grandmotherly attitude, Elena Alvarez has seen a lot as a therapist. A Jumbotron breakup was a first though. “I’m wondering if all this wedding planning stirs up anything about how a younger you had to deal with planning?”
That’s a damn good question. That’s also why I came to her office in the first place even though I don’t entirely love talking about how my sister and I grew up differently. Those eight years made a big difference. Mom and Dad were happy when Caroline was a kid; they’d nearly split up by the time I was ten and she was in college.
“Sometimes,” I admit, with a sigh. I didn’t love the way Ifelt at the picnic when my parents praised me for the dates I planned for them when I was in grade school.
But if I dive into that with Elena, I’ll have to tell her I have a fake boyfriend, and I doubt fake dating is one of the approved cognitive behavioral therapy techniques.
I keep my pretend romance to myself for now, and I kind of like my secret.
* * *
I’m grabbing my to-go cup and slinging my canvas bag on my arm a few days later, ready to catch an early bus to a meeting with an animal rescue we’re partnering with for an upcoming event, when someone bangs on my door with a battering ram.
I swing it open, and yup. It’s my sister. In full TV makeup and sporting a luminous blowout, she brandishes her tablet triumphantly, with the wordsIt’s doneon the screen.
I squint to see an email from Fallon. “What’s done? Does she mean she booked everything for the cake tasting tomorrow?”
Shaking her head, Caroline’s eyes gleam with retribution. “The photographer who was a little too frisky with you? I made sure he was fired from the assignment. No one treats my employees that way, let alone my sister.”
Oh.
I’m oddly touched, though it’s wholly unnecessary. “It didn’t really bother me that much,” I say, since my maxim for the wedding isdon’t rock the boat.
“Please. He was asking you to go to his hotel. Fallon overheard him.”
I didn’t realize Fallon was skulking around, but that seems on brand for her. Plus, I was distracted when Lake swooped in with a kiss. “True, but it didn’t seem?—”
She holds up a stop-sign hand. “Look, this is better thanthe alternative. I was strongly considering wringing his neck with my bare hands. Margot talked me down.”
“It’s good to work with a pacifist who wants to keep you out of prison.”
“No one fucks with my people. There will be a new crew coming for the cake tasting.” She spins around, ready to march down the steps and back into her townhome in her ethically sourced eco-friendly kitten heels when she stops and wheels back around. “But they want to stop by here first.”
“Sure. So you can get ready,” I say, gesturing to her townhome.
“Sowecan,” she corrects. “I told them you’ve been using their makeup forever. The brand is all about real people and authenticity, so they’re going to grab some quick B-roll of you first, then me.”
“Okay,” I say, trying my best to sound excited, but likely failing. Being chronically online is so not my thing, but it can’t be too hard to do a get-ready-with-me video.
“And make sure Lake is there.”
