Page 114 of Grace on the Rocks

“You go in too,El.Havea cold one.Peopleare posting up out back,”Wesadded magnanimously.Bryan’slittle sister grinned and traipsed in behindJules.

But whenGracemade to follow them,Wesstopped her, a look of mild panic in her eyes.

“What is it?”

“You’re a little underdressed.”

“They weren’t dressed up,”Gracepointed out, butWesgave her a look. “Okay,Juleswas, butElwas wearing jeans.You’rewearing jeans.”

“I don’t make the rules!”

Grace looked down at her own leggings and hoodie.

“Are you really sayingIcan’t come in because of howI’mdressed?” she asked, noting that whileWesleywas wearing jeans andEòghann’sold sweater, she did have on makeup for maybe the second time on this trip.

“Of course not.Comeon,”Wessaid, grabbingGrace’shand and practically dragging her inside, straight to the bathroom.

“Bryan doesn’t really seem like the dressy type.Whywould he want everyone to get gussied up when he’s trying to show the town how down to earth he is?”

“You think you know a person,”Wesagreed, shutting the bathroom door behind them.

There, hanging on a hook, was the prettiest dressGracehad ever seen—in real life or her imagination—and she immediately burst into tears.

“Oh shit,”Wessaid. “Goodtears or bad tears?”

Grace couldn’t speak.Thedress was a deep, inky purple, with gems sprinkled across it like stars in theMilkyWay, and a big full skirt like aCinderellaball gown.Itwas a quinceañera dress.Itwasthequinceañera dress, exactly as she’d envisioned since the age of eleven, exactly as she’d drawn it a thousand different times, exactly as she’d described it in her first novel.

“How?” she whispered.

“Your man is resourceful.AndapparentlyAuntieEilidhis a wizard.”

Grace reached out to run her fingers over the gorgeous fabric.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered, though she was starting to.

Wes shrugged. “Happydouble quinceañera?” she said hopefully, andGracestarted full on sobbing.

“Okay,Ican see now that theStoicScotmight have been right about asking you first instead of springing this on you,” she said, rubbingGrace’sback.

“I’d have said no,”Gracereplied, gazing through unstoppable tears at the gorgeous, perfect dress.

“I know.Pleasedon’t be mad.”

Grace grabbed her friend and wept into her shoulder. “I’mnot mad.”

“Then get all your tears out so we can start on your makeup.”

* * *

When she finally emerged fromthe bathroom dressed up like aMexicanprincess,Gracewas met with another shock.

“Diego!” she squealed, in a pitch she didn’t know she could reach, not quite sure this wasn’t all some bizarre back-to-high-school dream.Inanother moment, she’d be naked and late for a geometry exam.

Her big brother smiled sheepishly, and she threw her arms around him, full on crying once more.Itdefinitely wasn’t a dream, he was real and warm and solid.

“God damn it,Bryan, we just did her makeup.Youcouldn’t warn a girl?”Wesyelled.

“What are you doing here?”Gracegasp-laughed at her brother.

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