Page 63 of The Do-Over

Sandra interrupted before I could figure out a reply. “Attention, please. Time for the first dress.”

Phee glowed in a mermaid-style dress, strapless with a princess neckline. Tears glistened in the corners of Mom’s eyes. A small pedestal stood in the middle of three giant mirrors. Phee climbed atop it. Her hands shook as she smoothed them over her stomach.

My phone buzzed again.

Mathias: Is she trying on dresses?

Me: You want me to send pictures?

Three little dots appeared and then disappeared.

Face glowing, Phee turned and spread her arms out. “Do you like it?”

Mom stood and circled Phee, angling her head this way and that. “I don’t know about the drop waist. You can do better.”

“You think so?” Phee glanced in the mirror. “I kind of liked it.”

Sandra stepped in. “We have lots of options. Let’s go try something else on.” She whisked Phee off for round two.

“Try on that ballgown next,” Mom called. She stood and wandered the racks nearby for a few minutes before stopping in front of a particularly princess-y dress. “I always wanted a ballgown, you know.”

“Why didn’t you?”

She made her way back to the chair and sat. “Oh, it was a different time. Your father was finished with school, and we were in a hurry to move to Houston for his job. Mimi couldn’t afford a big wedding, anyway. It was a justice of the peace for us.”

“Seemed to work out okay though,” Phee said, floating into the room in a confection of a dress. The bottom swayed like a bell as she climbed onto the pedestal. Sandra fussed with the tulle underneath and placed a headpiece with a long lace veil on her head.

“Of course it did. Thirty years in September.”

Phee gasped. “What if you had a big anniversary party this year? We could do it for you.”

Wait. We?

“It would take some planning.” She turned, the veil twisted, and Sandra muttered under her breath as she straightened it. “We could use Mom and Dad’s house. It’s perfect for entertaining. We’d take care of everything.”

“You girls don’t have time to plan something like this,” Mom said, but her eyes gleamed. “Phoebe, you have a wedding coming up, and you’re busy with work. And Persephone…” My mother, sister, and Sandra all turned to stare at me. “Well, you have your life.”

And a fish and a fake boyfriend, thank you very much.

I wiggled in my seat and eyed the entire pitcher of mimosa longingly. It wasn’t hard to see where this was going. And it was not good.

“Perci, you could do it. I would help, of course, but you could kind of be in charge.” Phee stepped off the pedestal; Sandra tsked and grabbed for the veil.

“I could?”

“This will be wonderful.” Phee threw her arms around my shoulders. Behind her, Sandra squawked as the dress dragged on the floor.

“Phee.” I fought through seven hundred yards of tulle to whisper in her ear. “This is a terrible idea.”

“Oh, it’ll be fine,” she said. “It will get her thinking about something besides this wedding.”

Panic throbbed in my brain at the whole idea of planning a party for my parents. I’d screw it up somehow. Pick the wrong flowers or order the wrong appetizer. The tablecloths might not match the china.

“Do you mean it?” Mom squealed. “Oh, I have the best daughters in the world.”

The part of me that longed to please my mother perked up at her words. Maybe I could do this. Phee and my mother seemed to have confidence in me.

New Perci smirked. New Perci wasn’t daunted. New Perci wasn’t scared of messing up.