“She said it’s not black tie, whatever that means, but to wear a cocktail dress.” I sighed.
Okay. Thanks. See you tomorrow. ~ Charlotte
Emma replied back in seconds.
What time are you planning to get in?
I’m not sure. Late afternoonish? ~ Charlotte
I knew she wanted me there well before six, considering that was when the party started. Six o’clock Friday night.
Okay, be careful driving. Love you.
Love you too. ~ Charlotte
“Now I’m torn between this one and this one. Which do you like better?” Sadie asked.
I set my phone on the bed beside me, and pushed up onto my elbows. She was holding out the black dress she wanted me to try on earlier and a coral one that was sleeveless. “The coral one.”
“I’ll pack the black one.” She grinned.
“Why bother asking which one I like, then?” I chuckled. She always did that. If she asked for my opinion about something, she went with the opposite of whatever I said. I didn’t know why I thought this situation would be any different. I should have picked the black one, then she would have chosen the coral. Maybe.
“How about this. You take them both. That way, when you get there early, you can ask your sister who all she invited, and decide if there is anyone you really want to impress. If there is, you wear the black dress. If not, then wear the coral. Either will look great on you.”
“Okay.” Coral. I would definitely be wearing coral. There wasn’t anyone in Parish Cove I wanted to impress with her black dress. The only person I had ever wanted moved on from the tiny town years ago. In fact, I was sort of shocked Emma was having a formal engagement party. Most people in our town didn’t host such things. They threw a bonfire and stood around listening to country music while tossing back cheap beer. The attire was never cocktail dresses and slacks. It was always sundresses with cowboy boots and Wrangler jeans paired with flannel shirts.
Whoever this guy was Emma planned to marry, he must come from money. Unless Parish Cove had new residents I didn’t know about, she had to have found someone in Easton during one of Mom’s appointments.
I guess I would find out soon enough.
EVERYTHING LOOKED THE SAME. As I rolled through the streets, I realized there wasn’t a single thing about Parish Cove that had changed in the time I had been gone. It was late April and Mrs. Martian still hadn’t taken her Christmas lights down. The fountain in the town square continued to run at barely a trickle, creating a tiny spout that looked pathetic. It was as though it had given up long ago on pleasing anyone in this town, same as I had.
As I continued toward my childhood home, my stomach knotted. While I might not care what those living here thought of me, I could only imagine the things they would say behind my back the entire time I was here. Gossiping was about the only pastime the majority of the townspeople had, especially the women. When I came to town, they all seemed to kick it into full gear. Our story was as tragic a story as Parish Cove had seen in a while. Dad left when we were little, abandoning our gorgeous mother and forcing her to work outside the home. Then about two years ago, Mom had gotten sick, adding more heartbreaking chapters to our story. I knew they had to have gossiped until their lips were numb when I left for school at the same time, leaving Emma behind to carry the weight of taking care of our mom alone.
Things might make me look bad, but that wasn’t how they were. When I was finished with school, I planned to come back and take over with Mom.
At least that’s what I told myself. It was what I told Emma also. But we both knew it would never happen. The only difference in our opinion on the matter was the reasons why. To her, I was selfish, inconsiderate, and cold when it came to our mom. To me, I was weak and scared. I wanted my big sister to take care of it all. It was what she was good at. It was what she had always done. I would only screw something up.
I pulled into the station on the corner of Clyde Street and Main. My car was almost on E, not to mention, seven hours of driving had my legs feeling like noodles and my butt so numb it hurt. I smoothed my hands over my rear, hoping to bring circulation back to the area faster.
“Charlotte, is that you?” a familiar voice called to me. My teeth clicked together, because it wasn’t someone I cared to see. Ever.
I straightened my shoulders and turned to face Millie Green, the biggest bitch in all of Parish Cove. At least that was how I remembered her from high school. From the tone of her voice, I was willing to bet she hadn’t lost the title yet. How I had managed to miss seeing her the last few times I was in town I wasn’t sure, but it looked as though my luck had run out. Here she was, calling out my name again in her nasally voice.
“Hi, Millie.” I didn’t bother to plaster a fake smile on my face as I turned to face her. She knew I didn’t care for her, and I knew the feeling was mutual. Which had me wondering why she’d even bothered to say hi. “How are you?” I didn’t care, but figured I would be polite and ask. That was about all she was going to get from me.
My jaw dropped when my eyes landed on her. It wasn’t that she didn’t look drop-dead gorgeous still, because she did. Her hair was done up in a high bun and her makeup was perfect. She had gained a few pounds since high school, but not enough to be considered fat. If anything, the added weight made her even more attractive. It was the fact that she was holding a baby on her hip and the hand of a tiny little girl as well.
Millie Green was a mom. At least I thought she was. The kids looked just like her.
“Are they yours?” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. Was that even a question someone asked? It didn’t sound right. Who referred to kids as though they were inanimate objects? Me, apparently.
“Of course they are.” Millie laughed. She wasn’t offended like I thought she would be. Instead, she found my question funny.
“This is Mallory, and this little chunk—” She bounced the baby on her hip. “—is Mathew.”
Not only was Millie a mom—to two kids mind you—she had given them both names that started with the letter M, just like her name. Cute.
“They’re adorable.” Wasn’t that what I was supposed to say, even if they weren’t, even if I was so shocked to learn she was a mom I couldn’t breathe?
“Thank you.” Millie smiled wide. She was proud of them. My thoughts softened. Maybe she was a good mom. My eyes skimmed over her kids again, taking in their appearance this time now that the shock of their existence had worn off some. They were well-dressed and groomed. Her daughter’s golden locks had been braided into a crazy pattern that made her hair look like little bows. I wondered how long it had taken to do such a thing, and if it had hurt. It looked like it had hurt like hell. “What about you? Any kids?” Millie asked.
I lifted my gaze back to her. She was giving me a onceover, obviously trying to gauge my answer based off my hip size. I hadn’t gained a pound since high school. Thanks to my mother’s good genes. “Nope. Not me. No kids.” The words were laced with a tinge of relief even I could hear. Kids were not on my radar. I could barely take care of myself; there was no way in hell I could raise a kid.
But here Millie was with two.
This was what Parish Cove did to you. It forced you to pop out babies at a young age, because there was nothing better to do, and settle. Thank God, Emma was smart enough to not settle like this.