Page 36 of The One I Love
“Perfect. Thanks again.”
The two of us stand up and start walking toward the door.
“Hey,” Simon says. “I hope it goes well.”
“Thanks, man.” We come in for a quick back-slapping hug. “I have a feeling it will.”
“Can I ask one more thing?”
I let out a groan. “What?”
“Can you please let me come over and pick out what you’re going to wear? If left to your own devices it will be jeans and a ratty flannel.”
Actually, that wouldn’t be a bad idea. And even better because I didn’t have to ask him. “Sure. That would be great.”
“Good. I can’t wait to meet her first. Before everyone else. It’s going to be the best day of my life.”
I open the door for him. “You’re going to hold me to that, huh?”
“You should be grateful I’m not asking you to make me the best man when you two get married.”
Chapter 11
Amelia
Amelia: Get over here. Now.
Whitley: Is everything okay?
Amelia: Yet to be determined…
I have never been sohappy my children aren’t home. They don’t need to see the destruction that is my bedroom.
Every piece of clothing I own is on my bed. I tried to curl my hair and somehow I now look like Truvy fromSteel Magnolias. No shame to our Lord and Savior Dolly Parton, but that wasn’t the look I was going for tonight. I wanted to be sexy. Beautiful. I wanted Shane to see me and his jaw drop. I wanted to reclaim that feeling I had when he looked at me at the wedding. That feeling from the first time he kissed me.
Yet here I am, standing in a threadbare T-shirt with hair so close to God it could give the Sunday sermon and staring at Mariah’s makeup like it’s a bomb about to explode. I have an hour until Shane is picking me up and I’m not ready—in so many ways.
“Amelia? Where are you?”
“In my bedroom!”
I’ve never been so thankful to live within walking distance of my brother and sister-in-law than I do at this moment. And that she’s a former beauty queen.
“Oh my…”
I watch Whitley’s eyes scan the room in alarm. “I need help.”
Whitley walks over to me, clears off a pile of clothes from my bed, leaving us a place to sit. “Okay, what do we need help with? I don’t want to assume, but I’m also guessing that you need help with a lot right now.”
I look down, more out of shame than anything. “I have a date.”
My words come out as a whisper, and I wonder if I even said it out loud.
“Amelia? Did I just hear you right? Did you say you have a date?”
“Yeah. I have a date.”
Whitley lets out a squeal that could send every dog in the neighborhood into a frenzy as she wraps her arms around me and tackles me back into the bed. I can’t help but laugh as she starts kicking her feet in excitement as she squeezes the life out of me.
