From Lorraine Starbourne
Lorraine Starbourne
Danika,
I understand your need for a break after what that douche Matt put you through, but to not having a phone? Or a computer? Baby girl, that’s just unnatural. I need to talk to you immediately. This letter writing and seven-day wait is ridiculous.
I got a call from Barbara today. You know how your aunt loves to rub things in my face.
She’s always acting like Bebe is the success story of the family.
Babs told me that the wedding invitation Bebe sent you was returned.
Tell me you didn’t return it. Tell me the invitation was returned because the post office knows you’re off in the middle of nowhere.
I am not letting my sister win this round, Dani.
Now let’s be clear—Matt was no good. You dodged a bullet when you dumped that loser, sweetheart.
The man was a dog. A neighbor told me they saw him sneaking around town with some woman late at night just last week, and let me tell you, it wasn’t Bebe.
So really, you should be thankful he’s marrying her instead of you. But that’s not the point here.
The point is, you cannot let Babs and Bebe think you’re licking your wounds and hiding out in your dad’s old cabin. You are going to this wedding, and you are going to show up with your head held high—preferably with a gorgeous man on your arm.
Are you dating? There’s bound to be a mountain man out there in Palomar.
I mean, that’s where I met your dad, after all.
And my Wally is the hunkiest astronomer that ever held a telescope.
All the men on that observatory are old or reedy nerds, so none of them will do.
So maybe go up the mountain a bit. There’s bound to be a lumberjack in the forest. Though he might not have all his teeth cause I doubt there’s dental insurance with lumberjacking.
If there are no hot lumberjacks, we can fix that.
I have some names for you—very respectable, very eligible men.
Or if we need to get creative, remember that movie with Debra Messing and that cute guy with the square chin—you know the one?
Debra hired that cutie gigolo for her sister’s wedding because she knew her ex would be there.
We can hire you one. I googled a website, and it’s legal. You don’t have to have sex with them.
Think about it: a professional, stunning, well-mannered man who only has eyes for you—at least while he’s on the clock.
We can make him be anything we want. A billionaire.
Or a prince. The prince of some Eastern European country.
The best part? He won’t cheat on you with your first cousin.
At least not during the wedding. This could be perfect.
But Dani, absolutely no carbs between now and the wedding.
You need to fit in the dress I bought you.
Did I tell you I bought you a dress? It’s a size three.
It’ll make everyone say, Wow, Dani really came out on top, didn’t she?
Did I mention that Bebe’s colors are green and gold?
And that she got a dress made by Laurent Duval, the French designer that I adore?
You need to wear something that makes Bebe and my sister regret every single thing they’ve copied from us.
Let me know immediately what you’re going to do about a date. And for the love of God, RSVP before your aunt calls me again.
Love,
Mom
P.S. If you’re hiking in the woods, don’t climb too many mountains. We don’t want your calves getting too big. Men don’t find muscles on women attractive. Though your dad doesn’t care if I have muscles or not. But that man is one of a kind. I wish they made more like him for you.