The Bookworm Next Door: The Expanded and Revised Edition (36 page)

Once upon a time in the past a mother with three daughters told a story that stayed in their minds for years.

For Samantha Elizabeth Davis the story was different.  She'd gone by many names over the years. Sam. Sammie. Elizabeth. Lizzie. Samantha.  Samantha Elizabeth Davis had many names. 

              Before her mother left she was Sammie, or Samantha.

Afterwards, when she was in high school, she was known as Elizabeth. Or Liz.  On one regrettable occasion she was Beth. 

              When she started attending college she reverted back to using her first name.  Or Sam. 

              Never Sammie.  Never again.  She couldn’t erase her mother’s final words to her.  “Take care of your sisters and father, Sammie.”

              “But, Mom, you’re only going to the grocery store,” Samantha remembered saying. 

              She never wanted to be Sammie again.  But it hadn't mattered.  A name was a name was a name.

Until it went on a wedding invitation.

Mr. Walter Davis, Mr. Benjamin Turner,

and Mrs. Cyndia Peters

would like to cordially invite you

to the wedding of their children

Samantha Elizabeth Davis

and

Jacob Benjamin Turner

The rest of the invitation was standard. Time. Date. Place. All on pretty white cardstock with silver swirls and flourishes on two of the corners framing the words.

Samantha traces her finger over the swirls on the upper left edge.  What was in a name? A rose by any other name would still smell as sweet… or something like that from the immortal bard. But to Sam the name was everything.  It was half her father and half her mother, crafted to be all of her.

Samantha Elizabeth Davis.

She hated her name.

She didn't want to know how her friend and local spy Vanessa Bancroft had managed to get the invitation. The wedding announcement in the paper made sense, but the invitation…

Staring at the sturdy cardstock, she traced her fingers over the silver flourishes on the lower right corner.  Her oldest baby was getting married.

Veronica Davis Blackburn wondered if she should crash her daughter’s wedding even though she never went through with any attempt she had started to contact any of her daughters.

              Once again Aimee Kirkland found herself staring at the Goldman house.  She knew Kyle was lingering nearby, watching to see what her next move was going to be.  For a younger brother he was definitely overly protective; he just wasn’t protective of her.  

              Therapy seemed to be helping.  She was beginning to understand what Kyle had told her before when she stood in front of this house months earlier.  Her mother was toxic and it would continue to spread if she didn’t do something about it. 

              “What’s different this time?” Kyle voice asked from beside her.  Aimee shouldn’t have been surprised to see Grace standing beside him. 

              “Does she know?”

              “We don’t keep secrets from each other,” he answered his half-sister.

              Grace added, “I haven’t told anybody else.”  It still stunned her that the Mean Girl was her boyfriend’s sister.  “It isn’t my story to tell.”

              Chuckling to herself, “I wish I had learned the wisdom of those words earlier.”  Turning to face Kyle, Aimee admitted to them, “I’m in therapy; it was actually my sister’s suggestion.” 

              “Why are you here then?”  Leveling her a look, Kyle took the time to study her features while she formulated her response. 

              “Who would have been worse: my mother or our father?”

              Kyle thought carefully before answering Aimee, “Our father would have pushed you to succeed.  He would have stressed you out and never would have let you quit softball.”  Taking a deep breath, “But your mother is toxic and should have stopped you when you broke into your first locker.  She should have punished you when you paid somebody to damage Mr. Wallace’s car.  She led you to believe that a relationship would make you whole when chasing that ideal relationship has nearly destroyed you.” 

              Turning to Grace, Aimee asked her a serious question, “Is he happy?  Are they happy?”

              “Yes,” was all the normally shy girl answered. 

              “My therapist explained it,” Aimee stated.  “David was the first person who showed me positive interest and once it was gone I had to get it back.  I didn’t care if he was happy or miserable; I just wanted that source of happiness back in my life.” 

              “What about Will?” Grace whispered, curious.

              “Mom never would have approved of him,” Aimee sighed.  She realized that it was a shame that status and appearances had been hardwired into her.  “He’ll probably be one of those things I’ll regret for the rest of my life.”

              Touching the other girl’s arm, Grace spoke up, “Don’t let regrets control you.  Let them go.  ‘If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride’ and all that.” 

              The front door opened and Brent Goldman stood framed in the doorway, watching them.  “What’s going on?”

              Taking a deep breath, Kyle pulled Aimee to meet their father.  “Father, this is Aimee Kirkland.”  The older man’s face paled, but he remained composed.  He had been expecting this day to happen.  “She needs a new place to live.” 

              Turning to her half-brother, Aimee looked surprised.  Maybe everything would be alright after all. 

              There were dresses everywhere.  Delilah swore she hadn’t seen so many dresses since she had gone prom dress shopping.  Jennifer was standing in her doorway chuckling.  Grace stretched out in a chair and was trying her hardest to keep from laughing.  Penny, the only one missing, would have been disappointed to have missed this particular dress. 

              “What was Sam thinking?” Delilah whimpered, turning around and looking at the bow on the back of the dress.  “This better be a joke.”  Turning around to look at her reflection in the mirror, she lamented, “It’s olive green!”

              Charlotte poked her head in the doorway, pushing Jennifer to the side as she did so, “That’s not your dress.  That’s cousin Denise’s dress.” 

              Jennifer turned around quickly and stared aghast at Charlotte.  “Somebody must really hate Cousin Denise.”

              Quickly, and carefully, shedding the dress, Delilah stated, “Denise hates Denise; she picked out her own dress and apparently had it delivered here.”

              Charlotte entered the room and started shuffling through the dresses.  Holding up a pretty light blue dress, she handed it over to Delilah.  “This is your dress.”  Picking up another, in a slightly darker blue shade, “This is my dress.”  Then, pointing to a sage green dress, “That is Cousin Theresa’s dress.  For some reason Sam had all of the dresses delivered here.” 

              Jennifer couldn’t stop her laughter a moment longer, “I’m so thankful that…” she said between giggles, “… Laurel decided to do things a lot more causally.  Not butt bows in sight.” 

              “For the record,” Samantha interrupted while poking her head in the room, “Denise picked out the butt bow herself.  I’m planning on seeing if I can get it removed.”  Changing her focus to her youngest sister, “How’s the dress?”

              “I caught her wearing Cousin Denise’s dress.”

              “Seriously?”

              “Seriously.”

              Jennifer and Grace looked back and forth as Samantha and Charlotte bantered.  It wasn’t the first time that they had watched a conversational table tennis match between a set of Davis siblings.  They would bet that it wouldn’t be the last time. 

              Suddenly they turned on Delilah, “Put on the dress,” they both insisted. 

              Jennifer pulled out the dress that Laurel had picked out.  The official color was called eggplant, but she liked the way that the jewel-tone color complimented her complexion.  The final fitting had been the day before and Jennifer was surprised to find that she liked the dress and it fit her.  The knee-length dress with wide-straps had just the right amount of swish that made her feel like a girl instead of a tomboy.  It would have to be covered up during the church ceremony, but the dress would be amazing during the reception. 

              She was amazed at the speed that her mother and Mrs. Grant had gotten everything set up, regardless of Evan and Laurel’s protests to slow down the timeline.  Jennifer was actually waiting for Evan and Laurel to postpone the event or to elope in order to escape the chaos that was The Mothers. 

              Regardless, she needed a date.  Grabbing her phone, she quietly shut the bedroom door and the outside world of nosy ease-droppers.

              “Hello, Wesley?” Jennifer said when Wesley answered his phone.  “What are you doing in two weeks?  On Friday?”  She waited a moment while he answered her before asking, “Do you think you could go to my brother’s wedding with me?  It’ll be okay if you can’t, but…You can?  You will?  Great!”

              A nervous Laurel paced back and forth in her robe.  “What am I thinking getting married so quickly?” she hissed at Jennifer.  “We’ve been engaged for only a couple of weeks!  How did The Mothers manage to get everything arranged so quickly?”

              Chuckling, “I think they started planning and making tentative reservations once Evan and you hit the two year mark.  They picked out their mother of the bride and groom outfits as soon as Evan moved into your place.”  Jennifer stared in the mirror as she talked to Laurel.  She wished that Charlotte or Samantha, or even Delilah, was around to help her with her make-up.

              Staring at the dress on the hanger, Laurel’s fingers twitched to smooth out the already smooth material.  “I’m getting married in an hour.” 

              “I’ll have a sister in an hour,” Jennifer smiled, hugging the now-calming Laurel. 

              Smiling, Laurel grabbed a make-up brush and pushed Jennifer down into a chair.  “Give me five minutes and then somebody is going to burst in here to do our hair and my make-up.” 

              Jennifer took a deep breath as she watched one of the other bridesmaids bouncing down the aisle.  She knew that she wouldn’t be bouncing; years of running would guarantee that she would be gliding down the aisle ahead of the maid-of-honor, Laurel’s best friend, in a surprisingly gorgeous dress and a pale purple shrug to cover the sleeveless dress.  The girl behind her, the maid-of-honor, was dressed in the reverse. 

              From her position she could see Wesley watching her with a grin on his face.  He looked handsome in his suit, including a tie that matched her dress.  Maybe she would listen to his arguments about changing their constantly fluctuating relationship status.             

              Passing his row, Jennifer gave Wesley a smile before facing the front of the church again.  Soon her brother would be getting married in a ceremony that she’d be standing during for a very long time. 

              Glancing down at her feet, Jennifer was thankful that Laurel didn’t push her into wearing heels.  Everybody else could suffer for not listening to her advice about heels and how long a Catholic wedding ceremony could last. 

              Leaning back against her chair, Jennifer was thankful for her mother’s insistence at having a floor-length table cloth.  Even in flats her feet were killing her.  Slipping off a shoe, she turned to face Wesley while rubbing her foot. 

              “So,” she stalled, hesitating briefly before continuing, “I was thinking about something.” 

              Grinning at her, Wesley speared a piece of his beef before asking, “Thinking about what?”

              Freezing, Jennifer hesitated.  She didn’t have a clue that Wesley was already aware of what she was thinking based on her asking him to the wedding.  He let her sit there silently staring at him while trying to decide what she wanted to say.

              After a long minute that felt like five, Wesley leaned forward and whispered, “Do you want to make our relationship social media official?”

              Laughing, Jennifer met him the rest of the way.  Somebody started tapping their knife against a glass before realizing that it wasn’t the bride and groom who were kissing.  Breaking apart, they both broke out in laughter. 

              “So, how about being my date to Delilah’s sister’s wedding?”

              Giving her a quick kiss again, Wesley gave her a positive response.