Page 118 of Roses in Summer

“It’s raining, so I’m planning on staying home and vegging out until further notice. You down?”

“A movie night and movie day?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at her suggestion.

“Why not? It’s not like you have work today. Besides, I overhead Linc before he left. It’ll give us plenty of time to scrub you down before your date.”

My eyes narrow at her. “Do you make a habit of listening in to people’s conversations?”

She purses her lips as though she needs to consider my question. “Helps distract me from my life. You and Liv aren’t the only ones whose life has devolved into a shit show, you know.”

Guilt eats at me as soon as she says it. “B, are you—”

“Don’t go all Mom on me. I don’t want to talk about it, and I want a distraction. But I am absolutely not watching a horror movie.”

“I mean, same. Should we call Ava?”

“Probably. You saw how she reacted yesterday when she thought she wasn’t invited.”

I let out a soft laugh at the memory of Ava’s face when she thought she was left out. “Let me go get my phone, and I’ll text her.” I leave Bianca and walk into my room, going straight to my nightstand, where I always keep my phone. I’m surprised that my device isn’t the only one on the stand.

“Shit,” I murmur, picking up Linc’s phone. He was rushing to get changed and out the door that he must have forgotten to grab his phone. I tap on the screen and see that it’s nearly dead. Plugging it in, I grab my phone and type out a quick text to Ava, inviting her over for a girls’ day.

—

“I have to say, it’s really nice not having to work on a Monday afternoon,” Ava comments as she stirs a pot of lentils on our stovetop. “I mean, everyone else has to work at the start of the week, but this job really has its advantages.”

Beside me, Bianca huffs and rolls her eyes. “Like working until two a.m. with your hot fiancé at a celebrity’s house?”

“He is hot, isn’t he?”

“Why are you making lentils again? It’s the end of June,” I ask, changing the trajectory of the conversation. If Ava is left to her own devices, she’ll continue to ramble until all the oxygen is sucked out of the room.

“You both need some good luck.”

“I thought that was just on New Year’s?” Since we were kids, our mother has made us take shots of lentil soup as soon as the clock struck midnight, an Italian superstition to bring prosperity into the new year. I’m not sure how it applies now.

“Well,” Ava starts, stepping away from the stove and turning around to lean against the counter. “I figured it’s a new year for you both in school, a new apartment, new relationships.” She looks at me meaningfully, and I blush under her scrutiny. “Anyway, this is essentially New Year’s for both of you—and Liv—so it seemed appropriate.”

“You know I hate lentils,” Bianca grumbles, crossing her arms like a petulant child at the kitchen table. “You better have ditalini, or else I’m going to flip the pot over your head.”

“I fear you need sage and an exorcist, too, young grasshopper.”

“Ava, stop talking like an asshole.”

“And that’s enough,” I cut in, shooting both my sisters a sharp look. “Do you need any help?” After I texted Ava to come over, I wasn’t surprised that she accepted the invitation; however, when she came to our door with a large pot of soup, I was understandably perplexed.

“No, everything’s done. It needs maybe thirty more minutes to simmer, and then we can eat.”

“Okay, come sit, then,” I order, pushing out a third chair from beneath our kitchen table. “How’s wedding planning going?”

She smiles as she sits, sticking out her tongue at Bianca for no evident reason. “Like I said a few weeks ago, everything is done. The villa handles basically everything. I made a dress appointment for the end of July. I found this little bridal shop in Varner, and they seem to specialize in retro dresses. You know that white Ginger Rogers dress from the thirties? The one Grandma always obsessed over?”

I sort through the Rolodex in my brain, mentally pulling up the image of the dress Ava is talking about. “The one that looked like a nightgown with a cape over it?”

“Yes.” She nods excitedly. “They have one similar to that, and it would be perfect for the landscape.”

“You want a cape?”

“Instead of a veil, yes,” she responds simply, pulling up a picture of the dress on her phone.

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