Page 106 of Wicked & Wildflower

A tear begins to bubble over, but Macie’s on it with a tissue in hand, extending it toward Darby. She takes it, dotting at her eyes. “Thanks, Lulu.”

“You look unbelievable,” I say, feeling heavy with my own emotion. “How do you feel?”

She turns around again, meeting my eyes in the mirror. I’m taken back to the day of her wedding to Jackson, the way she looked at me through the mirror back then, to the devastation and hopelessness written across her features.

I’ll never stop being thankful for the man who showed up at that church and helped her get away, because the way she looks at me now is full of hope and happiness. Because of him.

“It’s everything I’ve ever wanted,” she whispers. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

“I think Leo’s going to lose his goddamnmind,” Macie chimes enthusiastically. “He better watch his back, because I might just steal you away for myself.”

My sister grins. “Well, you know how pretty he thinks Dom is. They probably wouldn’t miss us.”

We all laugh as I pull out my phone and begin snapping pictures of her for Monica, who was upset she couldn’t come with us today due to a former engagement with her book club.Our appointment was originally set for the beginning of the month, but Darby had to reschedule it last minute, and the only day they had available before the wedding was my birthday.

Macie helps my sister step off the platform, and I wrap her in my arms. “You look so beautiful,” I whisper. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you for being here.” Her voice breaks on the words.

Darby and Macie head back to the dressing rooms, and I do the same with my very reluctant daughter. After a partial meltdown, I finally convince her to get out of her dress. The boutique staff pack our things for us while we say goodbye to Macie. We trade hugs, and she vows to set up a lunch date for the three of us, plus her best friend, Penelope.

It has been so long since I had friends, I almost forget how to act. It’s another thing I convinced myself I don’t deserve and can’t find, but for the first time in a while, I feel hopeful at the prospect of it.

My sister is giddy as we grab the dress boxes from the reception counter and head out. Giving me a manic smile, she asks, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes?” I cock my head at her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great!” She’s giggling as I push open the front door, and I look back at her like she’s crazy.

Turning in the direction of where she parked her Mustang, I’m momentarily blinded by the mid-day sun, but as the brightness clears my vision, I’m stopping—stunned.

Parked in front of Darby’s car against the curb is a vintage motorcycle, and standing beside it is a six-four monster of a man. Brown leather jacket over his shoulders, in a black tee with beige trousers, Everett is beaming at me as he leans back against the bike with his ankles crossed. In his hands is a massive arrangement of flowers—wildflowers, the names of which I wouldn’t know, and the unmistakable dahlias erupting out of the bouquet.

I turn to my sister and daughter, who’re both looking after me with shit-eating grins. Without saying anything, Darby slides the box with mine and Lou’s dresses from my hands, and Everett steps onto the curb, extending the bouquet to me.

“Happy Birthday, Wildflower.”

35

Wicked

Kick Rocks, Bitch.

“Thought we could takethe long way home,” I say with a smile as Dahlia stares after me in stunned silence.

That seems to snap her out of her trance, and she shakes her head as she looks down at the flowers I thrust into her hands.

Darby helped me pick them yesterday. I stopped by Honeysuckle just before closing, and she assisted me in creating an arrangement of the most colorful wildflowers she had, along with bright orange dahlias, until we ended up with a bouquet that reminded us of her sister.

Dahlia was not excited about turning thirty. She didn’t want gifts, or a cake, or a party. She said the only thing she wanted for her thirtieth birthday was to remain twenty-nine. I know Dahlia lost so much of her youth when she became a mother, so we thought the best thing to give her would be the reminder that she’s still young, and she can be as wild as she has always wished to be.

Darby and I planned all the things I have in store for her today, starting with convincing her that she had to spend her birthday at a dress fitting, but in reality, Darby rescheduled the appointment on purpose so we could get her out to L.A. and I could surprise her with the bike.

I’m assuming the dress Darby forced her into was a gift tome, because she looks fucking beautiful in blue.

Dahlia eyes the bike behind me, no doubt cataloging the two helmets I have propped up on the handlebars. Lou pulls the flowers from her mother’s hands. “We’ll take these home for you.”

I was hesitant to let Lou in on the surprise, but Darby insisted. I was afraid she’d end up spilling the beans, but the look on Dahlia’s face tells me she didn’t.

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