Page 5 of Spicy Ever After
I love sitting on the big porch swing at the beach house. Watching the waves. The way the birds fight and cavort: the sanderlings and the laughing gulls and the royal terns. Watching Mom dig her toes in the sand as she dozes under the beach umbrella while Dad reads his latest sci-fi beside her. Watching Merrick and Margaret zoom around on the wave runner.
Merrick could’ve popped the question while they were a mile out when she had her arms locked around his middle, surrounded by blue skies and crystal waves.
He could’ve dropped to one knee on the sand during the magic hour when the sunset turns everything pink.
But Merrick waited until everyone was back at the house. Cleaned up. Drinks in hand. Sitting on the big porch.
With me.
That’s when he got down on one knee and asked my big sister to marry him. With all of us there to hear the way his voice shook and see how glassy his eyes got.
Margaret is my favorite person in the world. But Merrick is in my Top Five.
So I don’t need to hear everything that makes my sister laugh today. I just know she’s happy. And I’m happy for her.
Even if I’m ready to strip naked, throw this dress into the nearest dumpster, and run screaming through Parc San Souci.
When we’ve nearly cleared our plates, and I’m half drunk on bacon, butter, and Steen’s syrup, Margaret pushes her chair back and delicately clears her throat.
“You all know I’m not one for speeches,” my sister says, her face already turning pink, “But I can’t thank you all enough for being in my bridal party. I’m really honored.”
Margaret’s friends murmur protests. Cousin Cecelie drums her heels against her chair legs. For once, Grandma Eloise looks like she’s really smiling.
“I know—no matter what—it’s a sacrifice.” She rolls her eyes. “The expense. The dresses. The fittings. The uncomfortable shoes?—”
For some reason everyone else laughs. I just nod adamantly.
“It isn’t always convenient and it isn’t always fun. And I just want you to know I appreciate all of it.” Margaret’s gaze sweeps the table. Her eyes meet mine and she holds them there a beat longer. “From the bottom of my heart.”
She turns to Camille who is holding an armful of little white gift bags. Each is personalized with our names. “So, when I say that these are only small tokens of my appreciation, I really mean it.”
Margaret starts passing the gift bags around the table. As oohs and aahs and tissue paper fly everywhere, I cover my ears and lean back in my chair. Cecelie bounces in her chair when she pulls a charm bracelet out of her bag.
Brianna presses a hand to her heart when draws out a blush-colored pendant on a rose gold chain. Lacey gushes over loop earrings, and Camille smiles as she slips on a copper cuff bracelet.
I do my best to smile. Jewelry is not for me.
I never want anything around my fingers, wrists, or neck. No one in their right mind would wear anklets or, God forbid, toe rings. My ears are not and will never be pierced.
I steel myself for whatever is inside the white bag in front of me. I silently pledge that I will wear whatever it is to the wedding, even if it makes me want to peel my skin off.
The bag is a little heavier than I expect. I gently tug out the tissue paper and peek inside.
Two tissue-wrapped bundles rest at the bottom of the gift bag.
Life is short. I pick the bulkier one.
When I tear away the paper, my mouth falls open.
It’s not jewelry.
“What on earth is that?” Grandma Eloise brays.
With all the reverence it deserves, I hold up the little marvel. “It’s a daisy flower stitch presser foot.”
Grandma Eloise recoils. Who cares? I might actually cry. I look back at Margaret to find her face lit with delight.
“That’s the backup present,” she says. “Just in case you don’t like the other one.”
