IT�S AN EARLY-RELEASE DAY AND
I�m hurrying down the hallway to meet Peter at his locker when Mrs. Duvall stops me. �Lara Jean! Are you coming to the mixer this evening?�
�Um . . .� I don�t remember hearing anything about a mixer.
She tsks me. �I sent you a reminder e-mail last week! It�s a little get-together for local students who were accepted to William and Mary. There�ll be a few of you from our school, but lots of other schools too. It�s a nice opportunity for you to meet some people before you get there.�
�Oh . . .� I did see that e-mail, but I forgot all about it. �I would love to go, but I can�t because I have a . . . um, family obligation.�
Which is, technically, true. Peter and I are going to an estate sale in Richmond�he has to pick up end tables for his mom�s antiques store, and I�m looking for a cake table for Daddy and Trina�s wedding.
Mrs. Duvall gives me a lingering look and says, �Well, I�m sure there�ll be another one. A lot of people would kill to be in your spot, Lara Jean, but I�m sure you already know that.�
�I do,� I assure her, and then I scuttle off to meet Peter.
The estate sale turns out to be a bust�for me, anyway.
Peter picks up the end tables, but I don�t see anything appropriate for an ethereal backyard wedding. There�s one chest of drawers that is a possibility, if I painted it, maybe, or stenciled some rosebuds on it, but it costs three hundred dollars, and I have a feeling Daddy and Trina would balk at the price. I take a picture of it just in case.
Peter and I go to a place I read about on the Internet called Croaker�s Spot, where we get fried fish and buttery cornbread dripping in sweet sauce. �Richmond�s cool,� he says, wiping sauce off his chin. �Too bad William and Mary isn�t in Richmond. It�s closer to
UVA
, too.�
�Just by thirty minutes,� I say. �Anyway I was thinking about it, and it won�t even be a full year until I�m at
UVA
.� I start counting the months off my fingers. �It�s really like nine months. And I�ll be home for winter break, and then we have spring break.�
�Exactly,� he says.
* * *
When I get home, it�s dark out, and Daddy, Trina, and Kitty are at the kitchen table finishing up dinner. Daddy starts to get up when I walk in. �Sit down, I�ll fix you a plate,� he says. With a wink he says, �Trina made her lemon chicken.�
Trina�s lemon chicken is just chicken breasts with lemon seasoning cooked in Pam, but it�s her specialty and it�s pretty good. Sliding into a seat, I say, �No thanks, I just ate a ton of food.�
�Did they serve dinner at the mixer?� Daddy asks, sitting back down. �How was it?�
�How did you know about the mixer?� I ask him, leaning down to pet Trina�s dog Simone, who followed me into the kitchen and is now sitting at my feet, hoping for a crumb.
�They sent an invitation in the mail. I put it on the fridge!�
�Oh, whoops. I didn�t go. I went to Richmond with Peter to look for a cake table for the wedding.�
Daddy frowns. �You went all the way to Richmond on a school night? For a cake table?�
Uh-oh. I quickly pull out my phone to show them. �It�s a little expensive, but we could have the drawers kind of half-open, bursting with roses. Even if we didn�t get this exact one, if you like it, I�m sure I could find something similar to it.�
Daddy leans in to look. �Drawers of roses bursting out? That sounds very expensive and not exactly ecologically responsible.�
�Well I suppose we could do daisies, but it doesn�t really have the same effect.� I cast a look over at Kitty before continuing. �I want to circle back on the bridesmaid dresses.�
�Wait a minute, I want to circle back on you skipping out on your college mixer to go to Richmond,� Daddy interjects.
�Don�t worry, Daddy, I�m sure there will be a million of them before fall,� I tell him. �Kitty, about the bridesmaid dresses��
Without even looking up, Kitty says, �You just wear the nightgown outfit on your own.�
I choose to ignore the fact that she called it a nightgown outfit and say, �It won�t look right if it�s just me. The beauty of it is the set. All of us matching, very ethereal, like angels.
Then it becomes a look, a moment. If I wear it on my own it won�t work. It needs to be all three of us.� I don�t know how many more times I have to say the word �ethereal� to make people understand what the vibe of this wedding is.
Kitty says, �If you want to be a set, you�re welcome to wear a tux too. I would be fine with that.�
I take a deep breath to keep from screaming at her. �Well, let�s just see what Margot says about all this.�
�Margot won�t care either way.�
Kitty gets up to put her plate in the sink, and when her back is turned, I raise my hands like I�m going to strangle her. �Saw that,� she says. I swear, she has eyes in the back of her head.
�Trina, what do you think?� I ask.
�Honestly, I could care less what you guys wear, but you�re going to have to run it by Margot and Kristen. They might have their own ideas.�
Delicately I say, �Just
FYI
, it�s �I couldn�t care less,� not �I could care less.� Because if you could, then you are technically caring.�
Trina rolls her eyes, and Kitty slides back into her chair and says, �Why are you like this, Lara Jean?�
I shove her in the side. To Trina I say, �Kristen is a grown woman, so I�m sure she�ll be fine with whatever us kids do. She�s an adult.�
Trina doesn�t look so sure. �She won�t want anything that shows her arms. She�ll try to convince you to put a matching cardigan on top.�
�Um, no.�
Trina puts her hands up. �You have to take it up with Kristen. Like I said, I could care less.� She crosses her eyes at me, and I laugh and so does Kitty.
�Wait a minute, can we talk more about this mixer you didn�t go to?� Daddy asks, his brow furrowed. �That sounded like a really nice event.�
�I�ll go to the next one,� I promise him. Of course, I don�t mean it.
There�s no point in me going to mixers and getting attached to people when I�m only going to be there nine months.
* * *
After I make myself a bowl of ice cream, I go upstairs and text Margot to see if she is awake. She is, so I immediately call her to shore up support on the dress situation, and Kitty�s right�Margot doesn�t care either way.
�I�ll do whatever you guys want to do,� she says.
�The hottest places in hell are reserved for people who maintain neutrality in times of crisis,� I say, licking my spoon.
She laughs. �I thought the hottest places in hell were reserved for women who don�t help other women.�
�Well, I suppose hell has a lot of rooms. Honestly, don�t you think Kitty will look silly in a tuxedo? It�s a backyard wedding. The feel is supposed to be ethereal!�
�I don�t think she�ll look any sillier than you�ll look in a flower crown all by yourself. Just let her wear it, and you wear your flower crown, and I�ll be neutral. Honestly, I don�t even see the point in me being a bridesmaid when Ms. Rothschild
and I barely know each other. I mean, I know she�s doing it to be nice, but it�s so not necessary. It�s all a bit much.�
Now I�m regretting stirring the waters and pushing the whole tuxedo-versus-flower-crown issue. The last thing I want is for Margot to get any ideas about dropping out of the wedding. She�s lukewarm on Trina at best. Hastily I say, �Well, we don�t have to wear flower crowns. You and I could wear plain dresses and Kitty could wear her tux, and that would look fine.�
�How was that William and Mary mixer today? Did you meet any cool people?�
�How does everybody but me know about the mixer!�
�It was on the fridge.�
�Oh. I didn�t go.�
There�s a pause. �Lara Jean, have you sent in your William and Mary deposit yet?�
�I�m about to! It�s not due until May first.�
�Are you thinking about changing your mind?�
�No! I just haven�t gotten around to it yet. Things have been crazy around here, with all the wedding planning and everything.�
�It sounds like the wedding is getting really big. I thought they just wanted to do a simple thing.�
�We�re weighing our options. It�ll still be simple. I just think the day should be really special, something we�ll always remember.�
After we get off the phone, I go downstairs to put my ice cream bowl in the sink, and on the way back, I stop in the
living room, where Mommy and Daddy�s wedding portrait hangs above the fireplace. Her dress is lace, with cap sleeves and a flowy skirt. Her hair is up, in a side bun, with a few tendrils that slip out. She�s wearing diamond earrings I never saw her wear in real life. She hardly ever wore jewelry, or much makeup, either. Daddy�s in a gray suit, but no gray in his hair yet; his cheeks are apple smooth, no stubble. She looks the way I remember her, but he looks so much younger.
It hits me that we�ll have to move the picture. It would just be too awkward for Trina to have to look at it every day. She doesn�t seem bothered by it now, but after she�s living here, after they�re married, she�s bound to feel differently. I could hang it in my room, though Margot might want it too. I guess I�ll ask her when she�s back.
* * *
Trina�s friend Kristen comes over after dinner later that week, armed with a bottle of ros� and a stack of bridal magazines. The way Trina talks about Kristen, I was picturing someone really intimidating and tall, but Kristen is my height. She has brown hair cut in a short bob, tan skin. I�m impressed by her collection of
Martha Stewart Weddings
�it goes back years and years. �Please just don�t crease the corners,� she says, which makes me frown. As if I would ever.
�I think we should discuss the bridal shower first,� she says. She�s petting Jamie Fox-Pickle; his sandy head is in her lap. I�ve never seen him take to a stranger so quickly, which I take to be a good sign.
I say, �I thought a tea party could be fun. I�d make little
sandwiches with the crusts cut off, and little bite-sized scones, and clotted cream . . .�
�I was thinking a SoulCycle party,� Kristen says. �I�d have matching neon tank tops made that say �Team Trina.� We could rent out the whole class!�
I try not to look disappointed, and just nod like,
Hmm.
�Guys, both of those ideas sound so great, but I�m thinking no bridal shower,� Trina interjects. Kristen gasps and I do too. With an apologetic smile she explains, �We have too much stuff as it is. The whole point of a bridal shower is to shower the bride with everything she�ll need for her house, and I can�t think of one thing we�d need.�
�We don�t have an ice cream maker,� I say. I�ve been wanting to experiment with ice creams for a while now, but the one I want is more than four hundred dollars. �And Daddy�s always talking about a pasta machine.�
�We can buy those things for ourselves. We�re grown-ups, after all.� Kristen opens her mouth to argue, but Trina says, �Kris, I�m firm on this. No bridal shower. I�m in my forties, for Pete�s sake. I�ve been to this rodeo before.�
Stiffly Kristen says, �I don�t see what that has to do with anything. The point of a bridal shower is to make the bride feel special and loved. But fine. If it�s that important to you, we won�t do one.�
�Thank you,� Trina says. She leans over and puts her arm around Kristen, who gives her a stern look.
�But where I will not negotiate is a bachelorette. You�ve gotta have a bach. Period.�
Smiling, Trina says, �I will not fight you on that. Maybe we can do your SoulCycle idea for my bachelorette.�
�No way. We gotta go big. So, Vegas, am I right? You love Vegas. I�m gonna e-mail the girls tonight so Sarah�s husband can get us a suite at the Bellagio��
�It�s gonna be a no on Vegas,� Trina says. �The bachelorette has to be local and
PG
so the girls can come.�
�What girls?� Kristen demands.
Trina points to me. �My girls.� She smiles at me shyly and I smile back, feeling warm inside.
�What if we did karaoke?� I suggest, and Trina claps her hands in delight.
Kristen�s mouth drops. �No offense, Lara Jean, but what the hell is going on here, Trina! You can�t have your future stepchildren at your bach. It�s just not right. We�re not gonna be able to celebrate the way you�re supposed to celebrate a bach. Like the old days�aka get naked wasted so you can live up your last moments as a single woman.�
Trina looks at me and shakes her head. �For the record, we never got �naked wasted.�?� To Kristen she says, �Kris, I don�t think of them as my future stepchildren. They�re just . . . the girls. But don�t worry. We�ll have fun. Margot�s in college, and Lara Jean�s practically in college. They can be exposed to a little sangria and chardonnay.�
�You do love your white wine,� I say, and Trina swats at my shoulder.
Kristen exhales loudly. �Well, what about the little one?�
�Kitty�s very mature for her age,� Trina says.
Kristen crosses her arms. �I�m putting my foot down. You can�t bring a child on a bachelorette. It isn�t right.�
�Kris!�
At this I feel like I have to speak up. �I�m going to side with Kristen on this one. We won�t be able to bring Kitty to karaoke. She�s too young. They won�t let an eleven-year-old in.�
�She�ll be so disappointed, though.�
�She�ll live,� I say.
Kristen sips on her ros� and says, �Disappointment is good for kids; it prepares them for the real world, where it�s not all about them and their feelings.�
Trina rolls her eyes. �If you�re putting your foot down on having Kitty at the bachelorette, I�m putting my foot down on penises. I mean it, Kris. No penis cake, no penis straws, no penis pasta. No penises, period.�
I blush. There�s such a thing as penis pasta?
�Fine.� Kristen pushes out her lower lip.
�All right, then. Can we move on to the actual wedding, please?�
I run and get my laptop and pull up my vision board, which is when Kitty decides to grace us with her presence. She�s been in the living room watching
TV
. �Where are we in the planning?� she wants to know.
Kristen eyes her before saying, �Let�s talk food.�
�What about food trucks?� I suggest. �Like, a waffle truck?�
Kristen purses her lips. �I was thinking barbecue. Trina loves barbecue.�
�Hmm,� I say. �But a lot of people do barbecue, don�t they? It�s kind of . . .�
�Played out?� Kitty suggests.
�I was going to say common.� But yeah.
�But Trina loves barbecue!�
�Can y�all please stop talking about me like I�m not here?� Trina says. �I do love barbecue. And can we do Mason jars?�
I�m expecting Kitty to denigrate Mason jars again, but she doesn�t say anything of the sort. She says, �What do we think about edible flowers in the drinks?� I�m pretty sure that was one of my ideas that she just stole.
Trina does a shimmy in her seat. �Yes! I love it!�
I�m quick to add, �We could do a nice punch bowl and float some flowers on top.�
Kristen gives me an approving look.
Bolstered, I grandly say, �And as for the cakes, we�ll need a wedding cake and a groom�s cake.�
�Do we really need two cakes?� Trina asks, chewing on her nail. �There won�t be that many people there.�
�This is the South; we have to have a groom�s cake. For yours I was thinking yellow cake with vanilla buttercream frosting.� Trina beams at me. That�s her favorite kind of cake, just plain. Not exactly exciting to bake, but it�s her favorite. �For Daddy�s, I was thinking . . . a Thin Mint cake! Chocolate cake with mint frosting, but with Thin Mints crumbled on top.� I have such a vision for this cake.
This time Kitty�s the one to give me an approving nod. I feel more in my element then I have in weeks.
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