Page 27 of Avenged

“I act like I’m not fifteen,” I responded.

“Everything else you own hides your kick-ass body. Scar-Jo has nothing on you,” she said, and I laughed again because we both knew I didn’t have the curves Scar-Jo did.

She badgered me into wearing it, and then insisted on doing my hair with soft curls, pulling the front up and letting it cascade down my back. After, she put my makeup on with a steadier hand than I could have, because, when I really thought about what I was doing, I broke out in a tremble I couldn’t stop.

“Okay, I’m going to go get dressed. Don’t mess anything up,” she said as she all but skipped out of the room.

I looked at myself in the full-length mirror hanging from the bathroom door. I looked like high -school me. I looked like the me who had loved Skip Downey enough to get drunk and lose my virginity on the cliché of prom night. I looked like the girl who’d cost her sister her home, her security, and her health. Those mistakes haunted me. Especially after Skip had deserted me in the scandal from my dad killing the high school music teacher.

I couldn’t wear this dress.

I took it off and went back to the closet. Shoved in the back was a light-blue cotton dress I’d never worn but carted around with us. It had belonged to Mom. With shaking hands, I took it from the hanger and pulled it over my head. It fit better than I expected. It had tiny straps and an A-line flare. It would go as well with the silver-spangled sandals Violet had picked out as the other dress had. Changing this one thing helped steady my nerves. It reduced the tightness in my chest that had me feeling like I was going to hyperventilate. It made me think of Mom.

I pulled out an old sketchpad from the top shelf of the closet. It was one of my very first ones. Mom had bought it for me when she’d caught me drawing on scraps of paper and old napkins. I flipped through it until I found what I wanted. Mom. She was laughing.

It was a childish sketch, the lines poorly executed, the shading almost nonexistent, but I’d captured her eyes and her smile decently. In my dreams, this is what I saw when I thought of her. The smile and laughter she’d brought to our world.

I’d just shut the pad and put it back on the shelf when I heard the front door slam shut. I kept forgetting Travis still had a key to the house. It felt weird to have him coming and going as he pleased. If that felt weird, how weird would it feel when I married him for better or worse today. Except it wouldn’t be for better or worse. If worse came, I could get a divorce. No hurt feelings. No broken hearts.

I left the room and went slowly down the stairs. He was in the kitchen in his Coast Guard dress uniform. He looked stunningly handsome. He looked like a man who should be marrying the person he loved with all his heart.

He turned when I cleared my throat. He’d been spinning his hat in his hand, and it stilled as he took me in. I was more done up than he’d ever seen me. I didn’t put this much effort into my day-to-day existence.

“Wow,” he said slowly.

I flicked at an imaginary piece of lint on Mom’s dress.

He took a deep breath. “You really look beautiful.”

“You don’t have to say that. We aren’t in that kind of relationship,” I said and turned back to the refrigerator. I needed water—a whole gallon of it—because my throat and mouth were dry as sin.

“I didn’t say it because… Never mind. I’m glad Violet talked you into this,” he said. “But you haven’t signed the contract.”

I looked over to the notepad sitting on the table. He had to have brought it out from the library where I’d left it. I didn’t need to sign it. Not for me. I knew what I would and wouldn’t be doing, but if it made him feel better, then fine. I picked up the pen he’d set next to it, squeezed in a number twelve and a number thirteen above his name, and added my signature and the date.

“There. Happy?” I asked with a snip I instantly regretted. He made me regret myself on a regular basis. But if he noticed the snip, he didn’t say anything.

He just nodded.

Violet came thundering down the stairs, stopping at the entrance to the kitchen as she took the two of us in.

“You guys make a cute couple,” she said.

I groaned. “Stop. You know it isn’t like that.”

“I know, but it’s true. Everyone who sees you today will think you’re just doing this because you can’t live without each other for one more day.”

I rubbed my temple. My head was still pounding from the brandy the night before, and this wasn’t helping it.

“Are you still in pain?” Travis asked.

“Not really. This is because of the brandy you plied me with in order to agree to this crazy scheme,” I told him.

He smiled. “But you’re not drunk this morning, and you’re still going through with it.”

“I think I must be losing the last brain cells I have.”

“It’s actually really smart,” Violet responded. “Let’s go, Truck, before she finds a reason to back out.”

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