Emma didn’t need my help with Mom. She had things under control. It was what she was best at. Organization. Structure. Taking charge. That was Emma in a nutshell. I was as far from any of those descriptions as could be. It wasn’t that I tried to be; it was just the way things were.
Emma and I were like night and day.
Back when we were little, our mom would joke about it. I was the wild one. A tad bit clumsy and harbored no fear as a child. Emma was a careful worry wart. She thought too much about things and rarely ever did anything to upset our mom. She was the goodie-goodie, while I was the risk taker.
Night and day was the perfect way to describe us.
An old memory of how our mom used to define me to others flashed through my mind. She used to say I was a free spirit, her flowerchild. The one who made her stop to smell the roses without looking for bees and worrying about the thorns. Warmth bloomed through my chest at the memory.
I missed my mom.
Darkness settled in on my thoughts as I remembered how different things were now. It wasn’t because I had grown up. It was because Mom was different now. The sickness had latched on to her, and there was no way it would ever let go.
I hoped whoever Emma had said yes to understood the issues surrounding our mother. I hoped he would be there for her when she needed support the most, when the days with Mom seemed never-ending, and Emma wasn’t sure she could stomach another one, because I couldn’t be there. I couldn’t be the person she leaned on for support with this. I refused to see our mother slip away, becoming someone unrecognizable while tarnishing any good memories I had left of her.
Mom’s sickness had turned me into a weak, sacred little girl. Only I was too stubborn to admit it to Emma. Instead, I kept my distance and avoided her calls. I let her believe I was selfish and cold because I didn’t want her to know the truth—that I couldn’t do what she did, because I would never be as strong as her.
I reached for the jade green suitcase Emma had bought me before I left for Bradley University and tugged on the zipper. The suitcase had been meant for me to use while I traveled between school and home, but two years later, it was barely broken in. I never could bring myself to return home except for the major holidays, Thanksgiving and Christmas.
Until now.
My sister was getting married. I could pack my suitcase and head home, pretending I hadn’t gone to Bradley University because it was the farthest I could drive without any stops to hide from the life I had left behind.
I grabbed the black dress with the white polka dots I bought forever ago but hadn’t worn yet, and held it up. Was it a bad thing to wear black to a person’s engagement party? Or was black still considered a classic, chic color choice for such occasions? Damn it, I needed Sadie’s help. I reached for my cell and shot her a text. My phone chimed with her response seconds later.
I’m headed your way. I knew you’d need me.
A smirk stretched onto my face. She knew me so well.
I tossed the dress aside and flopped across my bed to wait for her. My eyes closed and I let my mind wander, thinking of who my sister had said yes to. There weren’t many decent guys to choose from in Parish Cove. At least not many who would meet Emma’s standards. I knew the majority of mom’s doctors were in Easton, which was a city about an hour and a half from Parish Cove. Maybe Sadie had been right when she’d suggested Emma could have met someone at one of mom’s appointments. A doctor seemed right up my sister’s alley.
“Okay, I’m here. We can start packing your bags now,” Sadie sang as she burst through the door.
“Why did you ditch Jeff so fast?” I asked from where I was lying. I didn’t open my eyes. “You two didn’t even finish the pitcher of beer yet, did you?”
“No. That beer was horrible.” I could hear her moving around the room, but I still refused to open my eyes. “I used you as an excuse to dip out on him early tonight. Don’t worry though, I’ll make it up to him tomorrow night.”
Her insinuation had me fake gagging and sitting up in bed. “Gross. And please keep all that on your bed while I’m away, not mine.”
“Who said anything about a bed?” she teased. “I was thinking about the floor, or our desk, maybe even up against the dresser a few times.”
I rolled my eyes, but didn’t respond with anything. It would only egg her on. “So, is a black dress too depressing to wear?”
“Depends on the style of the dress.” Sadie moved to stand beside my bed. Her eyes skimmed over the articles of clothing I’d tossed around. “No. None of those will work if you intend to impress anyone.”
“I didn’t say I was trying to impress anyone.”
“Oh, come on. We both know there are people who will be at that party you’ll want to impress. Anytime someone heads home, they always want to impress at least one person.” She picked up the black and white polka dot dress I had been debating on earlier and hung it back up in the closet.
“What was wrong with that one?” I really liked the dress; I just hadn’t been able to find the right thing to wear it to.
“It’ll make you look twelve,” she insisted, her back still to me. “Trust me, looking younger than you already do at this party is not something you want.”
“Okay, so what do you suggest, then?” I hung my feet off the edge of my bed, trying to see past her. She was browsing through her side of our shared closet, which made me nervous. Sadie had good taste in clothes, but sometimes they were a little too sexy for me.
“Something like this.” She pulled out a black number I’d seen on her more than once. It was tightfitting and low-cut in all the right places. The dress looked fabulous on her, but I wasn’t so sure people would think the same about it on me.
“No.” I shook my head. “Not gonna happen.”
“Why not?” she demanded. “You would look so hot in this dress!”
“It’s too sexy. I’d feel like everyone would be staring at me.” Which was the last thing I wanted. While I’d never been one who enjoyed being the center of attention, I damn sure didn’t want it at this party. It would be another thing Emma could toss in my face later. I would be labeled as someone who had stolen her thunder at her engagement party.
No, thank you.
“That’s sort of the point. You want to impress and appear sophisticated.” She waved the dress in the air. “This dress will make that happen for you. Trust me. Try it on.”
“I’m not trying it on.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not.” I laughed at her persistence.
“Charlotte, try the damn dress on!” She pushed it in my face. “What’s the matter, are you scared you’ll like what you see?”
“No. I don’t think it’s an appropriate dress for my sister’s engagement party. It might be too much.”
“Text her and see what the attire is,” Sadie demanded.
I rolled over until I found my cell. After scrolling through and finding Emma’s name, I typed out a quick text.
Hey. So, what should I wear to your party? Jeans and a T-shirt or a dress? ~ Charlotte
I hit send and waited for her to reply. Sadie began browsing through my other clothes, mumbling to herself about what matched and what didn’t, while tossing things on my bed she seemed to like. I flopped onto her bed since mine was covered with clothes now, and let her pack my suitcase for me. Fashion was never something I cared much about. I wasn’t a tomboy or a girlie-girl; I was stuck somewhere in between. I was normal, I guess.
My cell chimed with a new text.
No jeans. Please wear something nice. It’s not black tie, but at least wear a cocktail dress.