Page 7 of Just One of the Groomsmen
“You didn’t even go tomybridal shower, even after I— Wait. Groomsmen?” The concern on Alexandria’s face only grew. “You’re a groomsman?”
Addie assumed Mom would’ve told her, or that someone else in town would’ve, since word spread like butter on a hot biscuit round these parts.
When the elderly postwoman heard the news, she’d sighed and told Addie that no guy would ever see her as a girl if she didn’t at leasttryto act like one. There’d been facts about cavemen and certain things being in men’s DNA, but after the hunter versus berry-gatherer mentality part, Addie tuned out.
She’d gotten good at tuning out, even though a few remarks always poked their way in and jabbed at her.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be wearing a bridesmaid’s dress to the wedding.”
“Well, good to know that Will Shepherd can get you to do something I never could.” While the words had a gentle ribbing vibe, a hint of genuine indignance swam under the surface.
Offense pinched Addie’s gut, especially after she’d sacrificed her comfort the day Alexandria walked down the aisle. “I wore a dress to your wedding.”
“No, you wore a skirt, and you got it dirty playing ball with that Crawford kid before we could get all the pictures I wanted.”
Mom had tried to make her and Tucker sit like good little statues. It’d worked for a while, but when Tucker told her he couldn’t take it anymore, they’d snuck to the park for a game of catch, and the rest of the guys showed up.
Good times.
“Anyway,” Addie said, not wanting to rehash the many occasions she’d disappointed everyone, “I have nothing to wear. Suggestions?”
The bibbed overalls in her closet caught her eye, and she tugged them away from the rest of the clothes. Comfort was king, so that was one of the fashion trends she’d been totally on board for. Too bad it didn’t last, although someone said overalls were coming back around. “Maybe with the right shirt—”
Alexandria slapped her hand off the miles of baggy denim. “For goodness’ sake, I have a dress you can borrow.”
Addie wrinkled her nose. “A dress?”
“What were you planning on wearing?”
“Nice jeans and a dressy-ish top with—”
“Come on, we’ll need to hurry.” Alexandria didn’t even slow enough for her to grab the discarded yoga pants.
She dragged a pants-less Addie into her room, plucked a dress out of her suitcase, and tossed it at her head.
Addie lifted it to examine it. “Pink lace? Why did you even pack a dress, and what makes you think I can pull off pink lace? This looks kind of short, too.”
“When’s the last time you shaved your legs?” Alexandria asked.
“Recently-ish.”
She tossed a razor, and luckily Addie’s reflexes were better than her ability to rock a dress, because she whipped up her hand and caught it before it could hit her in the chest. Then her sister was shoving her into the adjoining bathroom and instructing her to shave her legs—“all the way up, I mean it”—while she went to work curling Addie’s hair.
And Addie vowed to never ask her sister for help again…
Ifshe even survived the night.
…
The town sign proudly welcomed Tucker to Uncertainty—kind of ironic, considering his current predicament.
Thanks to the townsfolk being loud and proud about how their tiny town came to be, everyone learned how back in the day, the people who’d first dwelled there filled out an application for township. Since the settlement was on the shore of Lake Jocassee, and the citizens weren’t exactly sure whether their town fell in Alabama or Georgia, they’d filled out the form with “We remain in Uncertainty.”
When the township was granted, it was under the name Uncertainty.
So basically, it’d been named by mistake, and oh how the locals loved telling that story to anyone who wandered through.
Seeing as how the townsfolk also liked changing history to suit their whims, a case could be argued for reasonable doubt, although he certainly wouldn’t be undertaking it.
