Page 4 of Retribution

Throwing on my three-day worn jeans and a bra, I grab my phone and exit the bedroom into the living room, in search of my jumper. Scott turns around at the sound of the door closing.

“Hey baby.”

Holding my index finger up, to tell him I need a minute, I find my jumper hanging over the side of the sofa and slip it on over my head.

“It’s Lola’s wedding dress appointment, I can’t believe I forgot!” I glance up at Scott leaning over the kitchen island, wearing just pajama pants, and holding a plate of waffles.

He lets out a nervous laugh and strides towards me, without the waffles. He wraps me in between his arms, my head naturally falls into his chest as he squeezes me.

“I hope you’re not going to be this disorganized for our wedding events.”

I shake my head and pull away from his embrace.

“Nothing would get in the way of the most important day of our lives,” I smile sheepishly, squeezing his hand as a comfort.

Scott worries that I have too much going on, biting off more than I can chew. He isn’t wrong, I’m a bit of a people-pleaser and struggle to say no.

“Take these waffles to go, I won’t be here when you get back as I’m meeting with a client at noon.”

Sighing, I reach up to kiss him.

Lately, we only see each other in passing. Our lives are so busy, we hardly get to spend any quality time together anymore. Things between us haven’t been the same since I began the ballet school, which took off with full force. It’s one of the many perks of already being an internationally recognized ballerina.

“I love you, Scotty.”

Scott looks down at me and presses his lips against mine.

“You too,” he says, returning to the couch to watch whatever program he’s into these days.

I roll my eyes at his ignorance and the fact he didn’t bother to actually box up the waffles for me. I suppose I’ll go without breakfast.

Inserting my keys into my purse, I look down at the photo frame in the hallway as I’m slipping on my shoes. It’s the photo that was taken just after he proposed to me nine months ago in New York. It was one of the only few trips we’d been on before we both made the decision to begin our businesses.

I’ve never been in such a nerve-wrecking moment, not knowing if we would be able to financially cope. I’d personally say it’s been a success, but Scotty would probably disagree. His side of the decision hasn’t been as smooth sailing as mine, but that’s what makes us a team.

* * *

Backing up onto Lola’s driveway, I honk my horn to alert them of my presence. Lola fires out of her front door towards my car, pulling open the passenger door.

“I don’t want to hear your ravishing apologies, Indie. You can take me out for lunch later, just get me to this goddamn appointment.”

I smirk, knowing I always manage to get off lightly with Lola. Gracie and Erica climb into the back of the car, giggling at Lola’s antics.

“Where’s mom?” I ask Lola.

“She’s already in Kingston, no doubt waiting to absorb the free champagne.” She rolls her eyes.

* * *

We’ve been here for two hours, and so far, it’s been terrible. Lola has tried on possibly twenty-five dresses, none of which have been a contender.

If this is what wedding dress shopping is like, I might skip it and just order one online. How on earth can one person be this pedantic?

“Indie, help out your darling mother and grab me another bottle of champagne.” Her eyes are flitting between me and the complimentary selection.

I look towards Lola, then to Gracie, giving them a side eye.

Lola shakes her head slightly mouthing ‘no’ through the reflection of the mirror. Standing up, Gracie grabs Mom by the elbow.

---