TRINA AND I ARE ON
the couch drinking tea. I�m showing her pictures of floral arrangements when Daddy walks through the front door and collapses on the couch with us. �Long day?� Trina asks him.
�The longest,� he says, closing his eyes.
�Question,� I say.
His eyes flutter open. �Yes, my middle-born?�
�What are you guys thinking for the first dance?�
He groans. �I�m too tired to think about dancing right now.�
�Please. It�s your wedding! Be present, Daddy.�
Trina laughs and pokes him in the side with her foot. �Be present, Dan!�
�Okay, okay. Well, Trina�s a big Shania Twain fan.� They grin at each other. �So�what about �From This Moment On�?�
�Aww,� she says. �You really do know me.�
�Shania Twain?� I repeat. �Doesn�t she sing that song �Man! I Feel Like a Woman�?�
Trina holds her mug like it�s a microphone and tilts her head. �From this moment, I will love you,� she sings, off-key.
�I don�t think I know that song,� I say, trying to sound neutral.
�Play it for her on your phone,� she says to Daddy.
�Don�t judge,� he warns me, and then he plays it.
It�s the most un-him song I�ve ever heard. But he�s got a goofy smile on his face the entire time, and it only gets bigger when Trina puts her arm around his shoulder and makes him sway with her to the beat. �It�s perfect,� I say, and suddenly I feel like crying. I clear my throat. �So now that the song is picked out, we can start ticking other stuff off the list. I�ve been going back and forth with Tilly�s Treats about doing mini banana puddings in little canning jars, and they say they can�t do them for less than seven dollars apiece.�
Worry lines cross Daddy�s forehead. �That seems pricy, no?�
�Don�t worry, I�ve got a call in to a bakery in Richmond, and if the delivery price isn�t too bad, that might be the way to go.� I flip through my binder. �I�ve been so busy with desserts, I haven�t had a chance to go meet with the band I�ve been in touch with. They�re playing in Keswick this weekend, so I might try and go see them play.�
Daddy looks at me with concern in his eyes. �Honey, it seems like maybe you�ve replaced baking with wedding planning as your stress relief. This is all a little much.�
�The band isn�t exactly a
band
,� I quickly say. �It�s a singer and a guy with a guitar. They�re just starting out, so it�s all very reasonable. I�ll know more when I see them in person.�
�Don�t they have videos you can watch?� Trina asks.
�Sure, but it�s not the same as seeing them live.�
�I don�t think we need a band,� Daddy says, exchanging a look with Trina. �I think we�d be fine with just playing music off the computer.�
�That�s fine, but we�d need to rent sound equipment.� I
start flipping through my binder, and Trina reaches out and puts her hand on my arm.
�Sweetie, I love that you want to help us with this, and I�m so grateful. But honestly, I�d rather you didn�t stress yourself out. Your dad and I don�t really care about any of the details. We just want to get married. We don�t need a food truck, or mini banana puddings. We�d truly be just as happy ordering a bunch of barbecue from
BBQ
Exchange.� I start to speak, and she stops me. �You only get one senior year of high school, and I want you to enjoy it. You have a hot boyfriend and you got into a great school. Your birthday is coming up soon. This is the time to just be young and celebrate and enjoy each other!�
�Yes, within reason, of course,� Daddy says hastily.
�But guys, I�m not stressed out,� I protest. �Focusing on the wedding gives me a sense of peace! It�s very calming for me.�
�And you�ve been a big help, but I think there are other things you could be focusing on that are more worthy of your time. Like finishing out your senior year, and preparing for college.� Daddy has that firm, immovable look on his face, the one I see so seldom.
I frown. �So you don�t want me to help out with the wedding anymore?�
Trina says, �I still want you to be in charge of the bridesmaid dresses, and I�d love for you to bake our wedding cake��
�And the groom�s cake?� I interrupt.
�Sure. But the rest of it we�ll take care of. I swear I�m only saying this to you for your own good, Lara Jean. No more haggling over prices with vendors.�
�No more impromptu road trips to Richmond for cake tables,� Daddy adds.
I sigh a reluctant kind of sigh. �If you�re sure . . .�
She nods. �Just go be young. Focus on your prom dress. Have you started looking yet?�
�Sort of.� It�s hitting me now that we are less than a month away from prom and I still don�t have a dress. �If you�re really sure . . .�
�We�re sure,� Daddy says, and Trina nods.
As I head up the stairs, I hear Daddy whisper to her, �Why in the world are you encouraging her to go enjoy her hot boyfriend?�
I almost laugh out loud.
�That�s not what I meant!� Trina says.
He makes a harrumph sound. �It sure sounded like it.�
�Oh my God, don�t take everything so literally, Dan. Besides, her boyfriend
is
hot.�
* * *
I look at prom dresses on my computer, and I laugh out loud every time I think about Daddy calling Peter my �hot boyfriend.� An hour into searching, I�m fairly certain I�ve found my dress. It�s ballerina style, with a metallic lattice bodice and a tulle skirt�the website calls the color dusty pink. Stormy will be pleased.
With that done, I go on the William and Mary website and pay the enrollment deposit like I should�ve done weeks ago.
* * *
Later that week, on the ride to school, Peter says he got out of doing a delivery for his mom, and he can go with me to see the band play in Keswick.
Glumly I say, �It turns out Daddy and Trina don�t want a band after all. Or much of anything, for that matter. They want this wedding to be very low maintenance. They�re just going to borrow some speakers and play music off a computer. Guess what song they picked for their first dance.�
�What song?�
�?�From This Moment On� by Shania Twain.�
He frowns. �I never heard of that before.�
�It�s really cheesy, but they love it, apparently. Do you realize that we don�t have a song? Like, a song that�s ours.�
�Okay, then let�s pick one.�
�It doesn�t work like that. You don�t just
pick
your song. The song picks you. Like the Sorting Hat.�
Peter nods sagely. He finally finished reading all seven Harry Potter books and he�s always eager to prove that he gets my references. �Got it.�
�It has to just . . . happen. A moment. And the song transcends the moment, you know? My mom and dad�s song was �Wonderful Tonight� by Eric Clapton. They danced to it at their wedding.�
�So how did it become their song, then?�
�It was the first song they ever slow danced to in college. It was at a dance, not long after they first started dating. I�ve seen pictures from that night. Daddy�s wearing a suit that was too big on him and my mom�s hair is in a French twist.�
�How about whatever song comes on next, that�s our song. It�ll be fate.�
�We can�t just make our own fate.�
�Sure we can.� Peter reaches over to turn on the radio.
�Wait! Just any radio station? What if it�s not a slow song?�
�Okay so we�ll put on Lite 101.� Peter hits the button.
�Winnie the Pooh doesn�t know what to do, got a honey jar stuck on his nose,� a woman croons.
Peter says, �What the hell?� as I say, �This can�t be our song.�
�Best out of three?� he suggests.
�Let�s not force it. We�ll know it when we hear it, I think.�
�Maybe we�ll hear it at the prom,� Peter offers. �Oh, that reminds me. What color is your dress? My mom�s going to ask her florist friend to make your corsage.�
�It�s dusty pink.� It came in the mail yesterday, and when I tried it on for everybody, Trina said it was �the most Lara Jean� dress she�d ever seen. I texted a picture to Stormy, who wrote back, �Ooh-la-la,� with a dancing woman emoji.
�What the heck is dusty pink?� Peter wants to know.
�It�s like a rose gold color.� Peter still looks confused, so I sigh and say, �Just tell your mom. She�ll know. And do you think you could bring a little corsage for Kitty, too, and act like it was your idea?�
�Sure, but I could�ve had that idea on my own, you know,� he grumbles. �You should at least give me a chance to have ideas.�
I pat him on the knee. �Just please don�t forget.�
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