35. Noelle
Chapter thirty-five
Noelle
“Boys are gross,” six-year-old Ruby announced, swinging her legs as she perched on my bed.
I chuckled and tugged two dresses from my closet. “You’ll change your mind one day.”
“Nuh-uh. I saw Simon picking his nose during snack time today, and he didn’t wash his hands.”
Okay, that really was gross. But six-year-old boys were a different breed than their nineteen-year-old counterparts—less nose picking and more kissing. Biting back a laugh, I held up the two dresses. “Which one? Blue or green?”
Ruby eyed them critically. “Pink.”
Her favourite colour, naturally. “I don’t have pink, Rubes.”
She dramatically starfished back on the bed. “Fine. Green.”
I hesitated, holding the blue one to my chest as I glanced in the mirror. “I’m thinking the blue.”
“Why ask me if you’re not going to listen?” she demanded, popping up with a fierce frown.
Good point. “Green it is.”
“Um . . . Elle?” Ten-year-old Quinn shuffled uncomfortably in the open doorway. “How do you get mustard stains out?”
“Did you try the stain stick?”
“Yeah, but I . . . uh . . . sort of forgot it in the hamper.”
I sighed inwardly but smiled reassuringly. “Leave it on my bed. I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks.” Quinn visibly relaxed and draped the white T-shirt over the metal bedframe. “Are you going out with Cal?”
“Sure am.”
“You should wear the blue one.”
“No!” Ruby cried. “Green.”
And just like that, I was thrust from big sister to referee. “I’m wearing the green tonight, but, Quinnie, can you pick out some jewelry from my box?”
Quinn’s dark eyes lit up. My jewelry box was nothing special, but she and Ruby loved pawing through it when I gave them permission. And often even when I didn’t. Sisters.
Ducking behind the small Oriental changing screen I’d rescued from the Gullivers’ yard sale a few years ago, I wiggled into the dress while Ruby and Quinn argued about which paste stones would be most beautiful.
“Rubes, you picked the dress. Let Quinnie decide,” I called, finagling with the back zipper. It took a Houdini level of contortion, but I finally got it zipped up.
“These ones.” Quinn carefully handed me a dangly pair of sea green butterfly mosaic earrings and a matching necklace. They’d been a gift from Cal for my birthday last year because he knew butterflies were my favourite.
“Perfect.” I slipped the earrings on before fumbling with the necklace clasp.
Downstairs, the front door slammed shut. Arguing echoed up the stairs. My heart sank. Olive was finally home (with my car, a quick glance out the window confirmed), and so was Mom. World War Three was two seconds away from blowing up.
Ruby clapped her hands over her ears, like she could keep out the familiar soundtrack of life in the Shepherd house.
“Where’s Dad?” I asked Quinn.
“Pool game.”
Irritation itched under my skin. Of course he was playing pool. Dad took any chance he got to escape the tension. “What about Phoebe?”
Quinn twisted my azurite ring—a gift from my grandma when I turned sixteen—around her finger. It was way too big for her, but it suited her. “Reading in her room and said not to disturb her unless zombies attack.”
Sounded about right.
“Do you have to go out tonight?” Quinn asked.
The winsome tone tugged my heartstrings. “Tell you what, you two can hang out in here, okay? No touching anything, but I’ll turn on a movie.”
Ruby perked up. “Sleepover?”
I shook my head. “I won’t be home till late. But if you listen to Mom, you can watch the movie in here before bed, okay?”
They both nodded, and I slid a Barbie DVD into the small portable movie player. They couldn’t get into trouble with that.
I glanced at my alarm clock. Time to go. “Rubes, where’s my phone?”
She handed it to me guiltily.
“Were you playing the geography game again?”
She grinned, her two front teeth missing. “I can match every state and capital now.”
“Good for you. Ask next time.” I opened my messages app to find Melissa’s thread.
ME:
SOS. Date tonight and I need makeup help. You have time?
MELISSA:
YES! We’re at Mama D and Pops’s. Want me to pop over?
ME:
No, I’ll head your way. Give me five minutes.
An email from my florist pinged as I sent the text. I scanned the message, and my heart started racing. What in the world?
Per your request, we’ve changed your order from calla lilies to white roses.
I blinked and read it again. I hadn’t authorized this request, which meant .
. . Mom. Frustration boiled through my veins.
Why would she do this? At the beginning of the wedding planning, I’d mapped things out extensively.
No surprises, no bumps. This made no sense. But I couldn’t deal with it right now.
“I gotta go.” I snatched my makeup bag from the dresser and reached for Quinn’s shirt.
She and Ruby were already curled up on my bed under one of my crocheted blankets watching the magical world of Barbie. I kissed their heads and slipped out.
The arguing intensified as I tiptoed down the stairs. It was almost impressive so much noise could come from two people. After getting Quinn’s mustard-bedazzled shirt doused with heavy-duty dish soap and vinegar, I nearly made it to the front door unnoticed, but that was too much to hope for.
“Where are you going?” Mom demanded, eyes flashing.
Breathe, don’t rock the boat. Straightening, I held her gaze calmly. “I have a date tonight.”
“Be home by ten.”
“Mom, that’s Olive’s curfew.”
“And yours.”
I bit back the rising anger. Olive was the one who traipsed across the state without permission. I was just trying to go on a date with my fiancé. “We’ve talked about this. I’m an adult and getting married in five weeks.”
Her dark brown eyes turned icy. “You’re supposed to set an example for your sisters. This isn’t up for discussion. Ten, and that’s final.”
It wasn’t the first time we’d had this particular argument, and Cal had his own set of opinions about it.
Time to pivot. “Why did you change my flower order? Cal and I wanted calla lilies.”
Mom snorted, picking at her chipped nail polish. “And who’s footing the bill? Roses are a better budget option. I told you that.”
“You offered to pay for the flowers,” I ground out. This wedding was already budget friendly. Cal and I didn’t want anything ostentatious. Between the Satterfields’ generosity, my paychecks, and Cal’s, my parents weren’t forking out tons of cash for this wedding.
Mom waved a hand. “We’ve had to economize. If you want the lilies, you’ll have to pay the remainder of what the roses would cost.”
I rubbed my temple. “I can’t do this right now. I’m going to be late.” It was already pushing six thirty. “The girls have eaten, and there’s leftovers in the fridge.” Ignoring the rest of the conversation, I marched out the front door across the brown lawn to the Satterfields.
Without knocking, I slipped through the back door into the kitchen.
Pops was washing the dishes while Dallas dried.
Mama D and Melissa sat at the island stools, two-year-old Josie at their feet playing with blocks.
All of them were laughing. The evident love and camaraderie in front of me made my heart twist. The scene was so different from the one I’d left behind.
Inhaling the comforting smell of fresh bread and grilled steak, I let the warmth of the room wash away the uncomfortable knots in my stomach. Or tried to at least.
“Elle!” Melissa jumped up. Well, sort of jumped. She was eight months pregnant and in what she called the waddling stage.
I lifted my makeup bag. “Figured I needed to call an expert.”
“Don’t you look pretty!” Mama D gushed.
“Date tonight?” Dallas asked as he slid a stack of plates into the cupboard.
“You bet.”
Pops chuckled, nudging Dallas. “That’s why your brother is upstairs primping.”
“Oh, Ian, let him be,” Mama D scolded, eyes dancing.
“Hey, I did it too,” Pops said, winking at her. “Always trying to impress the prettiest girl of all.”
Mama D’s cheeks pinkened. “Go on, you.”
“C’mon, girl, let’s get you dolled up!” Melissa dragged me down the hall towards the bathroom.
“Don’t let him off too easily,” Dallas hollered after us. “If he isn’t picking you up from your place, make sure he at least walks you to the door.”
“Thank you, Dally. What would I do without you?” I shot back.
In the bathroom, Melissa dug into my bag with the air of a professional. I didn’t do much makeup, just the basics, but it was nice to have someone else’s expertise. And when it came to hair and makeup, Melissa was the best.
I perched on the bathroom counter, and she worked her magic, creating a smoky eye, light blush, and the right hint of bronzer to add warmth to my pale skin.
“Thanks, Liss,” I said, examining her handiwork in the mirror.
Her reflection grinned at me, and she rubbed a hand over her stomach. “Anytime. Now, go get your man.”
I shimmied my shoulders, and she laughed.
Cal was waiting in the kitchen when we returned. Mid-conversation with Dallas, his jaw dropped, followed by a roguish smile. “Looking good, Holiday.”
I smiled at him, cheeks flushing. “Not bad yourself.” He cleaned up nicely in navy dress slacks and a white button-up.
He prowled over to me. “Now if you’ll all excuse me, I have a date with the most beautiful woman in the world.”
I rolled my eyes but didn’t protest as he laced our fingers and tugged me towards the front door.
“Have fun!” Melissa called after us.
The world was aglow with summer sunshine. Sunset was hours away, leaving plenty of time for an adventure. Just the two of us.
“Where are we going?” I asked as Cal opened the truck door for me.
He grinned. “It’s a surprise.”
Cal liked surprises more than I did, but as long as none of them involved haunted houses, bugs, or long hikes, I was content to let him have his fun. Why those specific things? Well, he’d tried those surprises in the past, and they were officially a no go. I shuddered at the memories.
We ended up at our favourite taco place by the lake about fifteen minutes south of Serenity Springs. The patio was gorgeous, lit up with Edison bulbs on the timber gazebo overhead. Very romantic.
Conversation centered around the draft and our Seattle plans. I tried to listen since Cal usually did most of the talking, but my knotted stomach refused to settle down after the tension from earlier.
“How was your day?” Cal asked around a mouthful of taco, drawing me out of my head. “You know, apart from seeing me? Always the best part.” He winked.
I smiled at his teasing, and the breeze off the lake was refreshing against the hot setting sun.
“Um . . .” This was it. An opening to tell the truth.
It wasn’t a bad time, so he wouldn’t brush me off again.
“I’ve had better days,” I said slowly. “Olive took my car, and my mom changed the order for our flowers without asking.”
Cal blinked. “She changed the flower order?”
I nodded and nibbled my taco.
“Have them change it back,” he suggested with a shrug.
Thank you, Captain Obvious. “That’s it?”
Cal frowned in confusion, taco midway to his mouth. “What? They’re just flowers.”
Just. Flowers. “And the fact that my mother is undermining our plans doesn’t bother you?” I asked, keeping a tight rein on my rising frustration.
“Of course it does, but once we’re married and out of here, we don’t have to worry about it. And you said Olive took your car? She’s always threatening to run away, but she comes back.”
Cal could be a hothead sometimes, but he was entirely too chill about this. Couldn’t he be the least bit upset on my behalf? Didn’t he care that this mattered to me?
“Things at home aren’t great,” I said carefully. Just tell him about Mom. Then you can figure it out together.
“Elle, your family has been a mess as long as I’ve known you. But they always sort themselves out. Don’t worry about it.” He leaned back. “Now, how about ice cream?”
“I have to be home by ten.”
His shoulders tensed. “This again? Your mom can’t impose a ridiculous curfew on you just to keep the peace with Olive.”
“She does a lot of things I don’t like,” I shot back. “Everything’s a mess.”
Cal shook his head. “Forget about it. We won’t talk about them. Tonight’s about us.”
“Right. Us.” I set my taco down, no longer hungry. What was so hard for him to understand? Why won’t he stand up for me? Why isn’t he listening?
“We’ll figure it out later.” Cal motioned to my half-eaten wrap. “You gonna eat that?” When I shook my head, he snagged it with a wink. “What’s yours is mine, Holiday.”
My courage fizzled. He said we’d talk about it later. But what if later never came?