Page 49 of Bluffed By the Offense

~ Bo Pelini

“I love this mauve color,” Mom says to Winona.

We’re at The Other Half, the Waterford bridal shop, trying on bridesmaid dresses.

“Mauve?” I say. “Does anyone actually look good in mauve?”

“You do, dear,” Mom says.

“I like the navy dress,” Winona says.

“Me too,” I say. “Navy looks good on all of us.”

“Navy?” Mom says.

“I like the navy one,” Daisy says. “But it’s your wedding, Winona. What is your vision?”

“Walking down the aisle in a white dress toward Declan while he can’t keep his eyes off me. He’s in a tux, looking good enough to eat …” She sighs. “You could be wearing rain slickers, to be honest. I’m not going to care.”

We all laugh.

I pull my sister into a hug. For so long, she saw herself as average or not quite up to speed with everyone around her. Now she’s marrying the love of her life who also happens to be one of the best tight ends in the NFL. And she wouldn’t care if he were the team janitor.

“I say navy,” Emberleigh says. “But my dress will need room to grow.”

The bridal shop saleswoman, Maisey, says, “We can get you a larger size and then we’ll just tailor accordingly.”

“Do you want help picking all this mess up?” I ask Maisey.

The dressing room is covered in dresses hung on every available hook and a few slung over chairbacks.

“No. No. Thanks, Cass. This is what I do. I’ll restock everything after I put in the order with all your measurements.”

We leave The Other Half and drive a few blocks to the Dogwood House, an old Victorian that’s been converted to a tea house and bed-and-breakfast.

The seven of us are seated among tables of other diners, mainly women out for tea or lunch, but there are a few older couples in the room.

For some reason, maybe it’s the fitting, picturing my sister walking down the aisle, and all this talk of me dating, my eyes linger on one older couple in particular. They’re seated at a two-person table, smiling warmly at one another. She’s holding her teacup midair with both hands, and he’s looking at her adoringly. They’re having a conversation with their eyes. He says something and she laughs softly. Then she takes a sip of her tea and he watches her. When she sets her teacup down, her hand rests on the table and he covers it with his.

They’ve lived a life together. Maybe raised kids. Could have grandkids. They’ve weathered hardship and shared celebrations, and they’ve held on through it all, his hand over hers like an anchor and a promise.

“Cass?” Daisy calls my name, snapping me out of my harmless people-watching.

“Yes?”

“I know you said there’s nothing between you and the quarterback.”

I quickly glance over at Winona. She smiles softly.

“Patrick came home talking about the news from the volunteer sign-up event,” Daisy continues, unaware she’s pressing on an existing bruise. “He asked me if you two were together now.”

Winona answers before I have a chance. “They aren’t dating. Marcus Delaney is the last man my sister would date. But we all know how social media rumors go. At least hers are positive and relatively harmless.”

Harmless is relative, to be sure. I’m certainly not in the same hot water as Winona was.

I look at Daisy. “If you consider the entire town's obsession with Marcus as being harmless … Everywhere I go, he’s all I hear about. We’re not dating. I promise to tell y’all if I ever end up in a romantic relationship.”

“He seems so nice,” Mom says. “He was so helpful at Thanksgiving.”