Playing for Keeps (18 page)

“I still want that.” She didn’t sound so sure.

I took her hand. “Nell, we can postpone the wedding if you’re having second thoughts, but we need to do it now.” I thought of how expensive the invites had been and all the deposits we were going to have to eat, not to mention the dresses that were paid for. Oh well—Nell could make a few alterations and use hers to be the bride of Frankenstein for Halloween.

“I don’t want to postpone it. I just need some time.”

“What does that mean?”

Her lip quivered. “I don’t know.”

I quickly pulled out half a dozen Kleenex and shoved them in her face.

To tell the truth, I wanted to slap her and tell her to grow up. I took a few deep breaths and told myself that I’d be rewarded a hundredfold for my patience and understanding.

I tried to think of what Mom would have done if she were here. Only one thing came to mind. I put my arms around my sister and hugged her. “I love you, Nell.”

Starting to cry again, she turned into my embrace. This time she wept softly, and it really freaked me out. I cooed reassuringly at her, patting her back and smoothing her hair.

She fell asleep on me like that, with George mewling mournfully at our feet. It was dark when I finally disentangled myself, covered her with a blanket, and headed home.

Nell surprised me by stopping by the studio the next afternoon.

She peeked around the door to my office. “Knock, knock.”

“Nell?” I had to rub my eyes to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.

She smiled sheepishly. “Are you busy? Can I come in?”

“Are you feeling okay?” Usually she just barged in regardless of what I was doing.

“I’m fine. Actually, I’m doing much better today. Thanks to you.” She came in and gave me a long hug.

“What have you done with my sister?”

She laughed and sat down in a chair. “Screw you too.”

This was the Penelope Connors I knew and loved. “What’s going on?”

“Well, I wanted to thank you for last night. I think I might have been hormonal or something to go off like that. I’m feeling much better now.”

I put on my big sister face. “Did you talk to Riley?”

“Yeah. Everything’s cool.”

By the way she glowed I believed it. I tried not to feel jealous over the fact that she got to knock boots with her fiancé and I hadn’t seen Pete in days. Sometimes I think green suits me too well.

“But I really came by to ask you if you’d go with me to my first fitting.”

“Of course I’ll go with you.” The first fitting. The wedding was creeping up on us and there was still so much to do. “I’ll tell Chloe too. We can drink all of the Mistress’s champagne.”

“The Mistress?”

“Never mind. Inside joke.”

She gaped at me like I was insane. How anyone in my family could consider
me
insane was beyond me. Didn’t they ever look in the mirror?

A change in subject seemed just the thing. “Where’s George?” I asked.

“I tied him outside in front of the studio.”

I thought about the dandelions decorating the front walkway and smiled. Given George’s liking for greens, I wouldn’t have to weed this week. “Good.”

“I’ve gotta go.” Nell stood up. “Riley’s taking me out for a night on the town and I need a new dress.”

“Of course you do.” Because she only had a couple dozen dresses in her closet that she’d never worn. “I’d offer to go shopping with you but—”

“Please, Gracie.” She held her hand out. “I don’t think I’m up for that challenge today.”

I grinned.
That
was the kind of reputation I needed. With any luck they’d eventually stop taking me shopping.

Nell squeezed me tightly. “I love you, Gracie.”

“Love you too.” There were times when I wanted to strangle my sisters, but then they’d be all sweet and turn me to mush.

“I bought some groceries on the way over. I’ll just stop by the house and stock up the fridge.”

I tried not to think of what she might have bought. Or how daddy was going to yell at me when he saw. “Thanks.”

She smiled brilliantly at me—the smile of a woman in love—and walked out of my office.

Moments later Daddy popped his head into my office. “Was that Nell?”

“Yes.”

A look of panic crept into his eyes. “She didn’t clean out the fridge here, did she?”

I wondered what he was hiding in there. It was a toss up between beer and Cheetos. “I don’t think she touched it.” But I gave her a couple days before she thought of it.

The way he drooped with relief made me chuckle. “It’s a sad day when a man has to go out of his house to get something decent to eat.”

By decent, he meant a burger and fries. “She just wants her wedding to be perfect, Daddy. We only have to humor her for a couple more months.”

His look was dark. “We’ll see if you’re that philosophical when she finds your cache of chocolate strawberries.”

I frowned. “What do you know about that?”

“I think that’s a student calling me. Gotta go.”

“Hey!” But he ducked out before I could interrogate him.

Mental note: check on my Godiva chocolate strawberries and find them a new hiding place.

Wait a minute. I frowned. What was he doing here? He wasn’t scheduled to teach.

I strode into the studio to ask him but he was talking to one of the students, a tall woman with dark hair. I didn’t want to interrupt so I went back to my office. I shrugged. One of the student teachers probably couldn’t make it and Daddy was filling in. Happened all the time.

When I got home later, the first thing I did was open the fridge to see what kind of damage Nell did. I winced. “Oh no.”

On the top shelf in plain sight was a package of tofurkey. I poked it with a finger to make sure I wasn’t imagining it. I wasn’t.

The thing about tofu was that no matter what you did to it, it was still tasteless with a weird consistency. No matter what shape it was in, or whatever it was spiced with, it was still tofu. There was no way to disguise that.

I tried to figure out how to feed it to Daddy but I came up with a big, white blank. I didn’t even want to think about the fit he’d throw if I served it to him. So I did the next best thing: I tossed the package to the back of the fridge, behind the colossal bag of oranges on the bottom shelf.

I dusted my hands off on my jeans. Job well done.

Chapter Fourteen

If the soldiers are angry, it means they are weary.

— Sun Tzu, The Art of War

I would have thought twice about agreeing to go with Nell for her fitting had I known I was going to have to try on my dress too. But I kept the thought of the endless supply of the Mistress’s champagne in my head and bucked up.

At least we were doing this on Friday afternoon, mostly because Chloe didn’t have class then. If the fitting were on the weekend, I’d have been resentful about missing out on spending time with Pete. As it was, he was working, and we were supposed to have dinner together later.

Besides, maybe this whole dress thing wouldn’t be so bad.

Okay, I was deluding myself. The fitting part—pure torture. And I’d be lucky if people didn’t howl with laughter when they saw me in it.

Nell was half an hour late picking up Chloe and me. She arrived at the house in a pissy mood, George in tow.

“I got stuck in fricking traffic.” She dropped onto a kitchen chair. George plopped down at her feet, just as moody. “There’s not supposed to be any goddamn traffic in Portland. It’s one of the reasons we live here.”

I grasped her elbow and hoisted her up. “We have to get going. We’re late.”

“Shotgun.” Chloe raced out the door. George jumped up and galloped after her, probably thinking they were playing a game.

“Don’t let him decapitate my roses,” I called after them. I doubt either one paid attention to me.

Grabbing my bag, I turned to find Nell leaning against the table. “Come on, Nell. We have to go.”

She scowled. “You’re so relentless, Gracie. Can’t a person just catch her breath?”

“Tell you what. I’ll drive.” I plucked her keys from her hand before she could say a word. “You sit back and relax. We’ll be at the shop before you know it, glass of champagne in your hand.”

“Champagne does sound good.” She managed a tiny smile.

I guided her out the door and locked it. I hooked my arm through hers as we walked to her car. For some reason, I felt like she might try to make a break for it.

Chloe stood in front of Nell’s Lexus, her hands propped on her hips. “Listen, George.
I
called shotgun. So get your ass in back.”

I looked at the front seat and saw George perched on the passenger side like he owned it. Chloe pushed at him but he refused to budge.

She whirled around when we approached her. “Tell your dog to get in back, Nell. I called shotgun first.”

Nell and George exchanged a look (at least, that’s how it seemed from my perspective). “But George always sits in front,” she said.

“But I
called
it.”

“But he gets carsick.”

Chloe made a face. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“When he sits in front he doesn’t throw up.”

“Mom was like that,” I interjected.

They both frowned at me. I shrugged. Maybe I should have just kept quiet.

“George stays in front. You sit in back with me.” Nell shoved Clo into the back before climbing in herself.

Rolling my eyes, I got into the driver seat. Thank God for the stroke of genius in taking Nell’s keys. This was one trip where I wouldn’t get cramps in my hand from clutching the door in sheer terror.

I started the car and was about to pull out when Nell asked, “Is George belted in?”

“Huh?” I glance back through the rearview mirror.

“Put George’s seatbelt on him, Gracie.”

“Yeah, Gracie.” Chloe smirked at me.

Resisting the urge to stick my tongue out at her, I reached around the mutt to grab the seat belt. George took me getting close to him to mean I wanted to be mauled. Typical male.

“Ugh!” I pushed his head away but he kept coming back. I quickly hooked the seatbelt around him and retreated. “They’ve got to make doggy breath mints or something, Nell.”

“Shut up and drive.”

I wiped the slobber off my face. “Kind of reminds me of Kevin, that jerk.”

Chloe giggled and even Nell, in her sour mood, cracked a reluctant grin.

When we arrived at the bridal shop, Devon was waiting for us, impatiently slapping a notebook against her palm. “I just tried calling you at home.”

Nell didn’t bat an eye at her accusatory tone. “Traffic was a bitch.”

So was Devon. I expected her to get out one of her whips and flog us, but she directed Chloe and me to the dressing room while she had a minion fetch us flutes of champagne.

Side note: I might be willing to shop more often if I could have an unlimited supply of bubbly.

Chloe and I were put in one super large dressing room. Our dresses hung at opposites ends. It was easy figuring out whose was whose. Let’s just say Chloe’s dress was as dainty and petite as she was.

Chloe stripped out of her clothes. “Ten to one she’s got a custom-made cat o’ nine tails at home.”

“Shh.” I looked around nervously. “I bet the mirror folds down and turns into The Rack.”

She giggled. “Kinky.”

We put on our dresses and went out to show Nell and the Mistress.

Chloe jumped up on the platform and struck a pose. The little dress looked great on Clo. It hugged her curves and made her appear womanly. Ripe. “I know for sure I’m going to get lucky in this dress. It’s so hot.”

I turned to the Mistress. “Can we add more material to her hemline? And maybe let out the sides a little?”

Devon stared at me like I was insane. I shrugged mentally. She’d understand if she had a daughter.

Chloe gyrated on the platform like she was an MTV dancer. “I think it needs to be a couple inches shorter.”

Before I could protest, the Mistress swooped down on my youngest sister. “It just needs to be taken in at the hips.” She snapped her fingers and magically a woman in a blue smock with a massive pincushion on her wrist appeared.

The woman quickly stuck some pins into Clo’s dress here and there, making it pucker oddly. I tilted my head, trying to picture what the finished product would look like. I’d thought the dress fit her okay already, except for the too short length.

The tailor settled back on her haunches and looked at me, one eyebrow lifted.

Mistress Devon interpreted for me. “It’s your turn, Miss Connors.”

Apparently the seamstress didn’t talk. I nodded as I stepped up on the platform. I was down with that. If I didn’t have to talk, I wouldn’t either.

Clo jumped down and stared up at me. “Damn, Gracie, you’re like a giant.”

I scowled at her in the mirror. I wanted to turn around and whack her but the seamstress already had her pins out and was attacking my dress. I didn’t want to give her a reason to stick me.

But she was right. At almost six feet normally, standing on the platform made me huge. I could see the dust on the lighting fixtures.

The seamstress tsked and shook her head at the way the dress fit around my chest. I shrugged. What could I do? I wasn’t abundantly blessed in that area like Chloe and Nell.

She pushed me off the platform and got up on it herself—the better to reach me. She must have used a hundred pins before she nodded in satisfaction and pointed me back toward the dressing room.

I changed quickly and went out to the lounge. Chloe was already sitting there, champagne in hand. I eagerly grabbed my glass and joined her. “Where’s Nell?”

“Getting into her dress.” Chloe eyed me over the rim of her glass. “You looked pretty damn hot in that dress. I wish I were tall and thin like you. And don’t look at me like I’m crazy. Having boobs is overrated.”

I was about to retort when Nell stepped out from the back. My breath hitched in my chest and a tear or two flooded my eye. “Nell, you look beautiful.”

Or she would have if her face weren’t so sour looking. “I don’t know”—she tugged at the bodice—“it doesn’t look tight?”