Page 72 of Trouble Walked In

“I’m gladyouare finally moving on from that sorry excuse for an ex-husband of yours. I’m just shocked it’s with Darth Renic.”

“I shouldn’t have called him that.” Lizzie sighed. “He’s not evil. It’s complicated.”

“You were mad. You’re allowed to be human. Glad to hear you’re finally figuring it out.” Piper paused, then shouted, “I’ll be there in a minute!” to someone in the background.

“You sound busy,” Lizzie said.

“We’re doing run-throughs of the songs this afternoon, just to get a feel for them. Several aren’t finished. Anyway, stop overthinking it.”

Lizzie blinked. “Overthinking what?”

“You know what.” Piper scoffed. “Renic. You always overthink things when they come to your own well-being. So do us all a favor this time and don’t. Just go for it. See what happens. I promise the world won’t fall apart if you put yourself first for a change.”

“There’s nothing to think about. He’s leaving in a few days. I told you, he’s only here for Della. We’re both trying to help Della get past whatever this is.”

“I can tell you what it is,” Piper said, sounding irritated. “The spoiled brat is feeling sorry for herself because her life choices suck. She screwed up, and she can’t admit it.”

Lizzie thought about it. Piper was obviously hurting just as badly as Della, if in a different way. Maybe now was as good a time to talk about it as any. “She misses you, Piper.”

Piper was quiet so long Lizzie thought the connection might have dropped.

“Yeah, well. There’s nothing I can do about that.”

Della wasn’t the only one who couldn’t admit to things.

Lizzie hesitated. She could drop the subject here, or maybe try another gentle nudge. Dropping the subject felt wrong, somehow. Piper was listening; she shouldn’t waste the opportunity. “Don’t you think this has gone on long enough?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think.” Piper huffed out an irritated sigh. “Does she ask about me at all? She texts Mattie. Calls her too, every now and then. She visits you. The only word I’ve had from her was when she tagged me on a social media post six months ago.”

It was the most Piper had said about Della in the past three years. Lizzie stared out at the empty vines and wished she could think of something to say that would fix this rift between her sisters. “I’ve caught her looking at pictures of the three of you together every night since she got here. She seems lonely.”

“Yeah, well, she dumped us, remember?” The words were harsh, but her tone had softened a little.

The back door opened, and Della poked her head out. “Lizzie? You better get in here.”

“Speak of the devil,” Piper muttered. “Look, I have to go.”

“Love you, Pipsqueak,” Lizzie said.

“Love you too.” Piper hung up before Lizzie could say anything else.

Della’s expression turned from concerned to clouded in the time it took Lizzie to hang up the phone. “She calling to gloat? I saw she got the part on that animated movie. It’s all over social media.”

“Gloat isn’t the right word.” Lizzie tucked the phone back in her pocket. She noticed the way Della very carefully avoided using Piper’s name. “What’s wrong?”

“DJ Jay is here,” Della said. “And that, by the way, is the most ridiculous name for a DJ ever. Anyway, he’s not happyand he’s getting loud about it. When the girls went in to do the place settings, he screamed at them to get out.”

“Finally. Took long enough,” Lizzie muttered. When Della gave her a questioning look, she explained, “Every wedding has something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue, and something wrong. Without fail. The longer it takes to show up, the more of a crisis it is to fix. At least it wasn’t during the ceremony. Come on, let’s go see what crawled up Jay’s butt.”

They hurried through the kitchen and across the hall to the ballroom. Lizzie heard shouting and the scrape of furniture along the wood floor of the ballroom.

DJ Jay stood on a chair he’d placed in the center of the dance floor. He was short, a little pudgy around the edges, with a handlebar mustache and a nose ring. He wore an outfit that would have made more sense at a rave than a wedding, including several layers of gold chains and an oversized football jersey. He pointed at two boys, one possibly college aged, and the other early high school.

“Dad. If we move the table the cake is probably going to fall over,” the older one said.

“Do what I said. I want the speakers in the damn corners.” Jay glared imperiously down at who Lizzie assumed were his sons with the air of a long-suffering man forced to put up with incompetence.

Lizzie gaped at the state of the room. In the short time the ridiculous man had been alone in the room, he and his two helpers had managed to shove the bulk of the tables and chairs over against the walls, and the lattice that hid the bald section of wall was lying on the floor by the door.

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