Page 43 of His Hot Mess

“Lucy,” I said, “I can handle myself. For once, let me handle my own life.”

Lucy flushed, pinching her lips and looking straight ahead at the road. “Sure. Okay.”

I didn’t mean for the words to come out as steely as they did.

I knew what she was thinking.I’m only trying to help.

Sighing, I reached over and grabbed her hand. “Hey, I know you’re trying to do the right thing. Just, this time… don’t, okay?”

Lucy’s shoulders tightened and I could see she was working to keep her mouth shut. But bless her, she did.

“Let’s talk about more important stuff, anyway,” I said when that didn’t work. “Like the wedding.”

Lucy relaxed slightly as she turned onto the highway towards Millerville. “Speaking of the wedding. Have you seen how the barn’s coming along?!” she said, her voice lighter now. "Graydon's almost done with it. It looks gorgeous. I think we could rent it out for events after the wedding.”

Thank god for the wedding.

We spent the afternoon in Millerville focused mostly on wedding talk—who was coming (our mom, who Lucy had struck a tenuous reconnection with last year—with my help); her boyfriend (a new one… again); and what was going on with the caterers (Gastronomique--the French restaurant in Jewel Lakes Graydon had worked at ages ago before getting into contracting). It was a fun day, but by the late afternoon, we’d been to all the shops, department stores, and even an outlet mall off the freeway, and we still hadn’t found a dress both of us could agree on.

“Sadie, this is the—” Lucy looked at her phone, “—twenty-ninth dress you’ve tried on!”

Of course Lucy was keeping track. She probably had an interactive spreadsheet on there. I should have kept track of the number of times she’d mooned about Graydon today, but I’d discovered my phone was dead. And I’d forgotten my charger at home. What else was new? God, why couldn’t I get my shit together?

“It’s also the twenty-ninth dress that makes me look like an extra on an N’Sync music video!” I said, twisting to try to see if my butt was visible through the gauzy polyester fabric.

Lucy gasped. She’d been obsessed with boy bands as a tween; something I’d never let her forget.

“Plus, this one’s almost $200 and I swear I’ve seen the same thing at Walmart for fifteen.”

“I said I’d pay for a dress, Sadie!”

“No,” I said. I was irritated now. I’d insisted on buying the dress myself. I may be failing with my ‘don’t get together with anyone’ rule and ‘get your shit together’ rule too, but I wasn’t going to let her do a single thing for me for this wedding. Except shop with me. I needed to show her I could take care of myself. “I’m buying it. Once I find it.”

But it wasn’t happening today. After one more stop and six more failed dresses, I finally called it.

We stopped at the pub in town for some much-deserved lagers after our failed expedition. Lucy started talking about going to New York for a dress next weekend, but I shook my head. “Luce, I won’t make you do a special trip all the way down to the city this close to your wedding.” It was almost a four-hour drive from here.

“Well what do you suggest then?” Lucy asked. “This is stressing me out!”

Anxiety flamed out around my sister like electricity.

I put a hand on hers and looked her in the eye. “Let me put together a vintage outfit.”

“Athriftedbridesmaid dress?” Lucy gawked as I took a sip of my beer.

I lowered my glass. "Have I taught you nothing?"

Lucy opened her mouth, but she must have seen the undercurrent of real irritation in my voice, as she shut it again.

“You know almost everything I wear I get at thrift shops.”

“I know that, and it’s great for casual outfits, but—”

“I used to get all my formal waitressing stuff at thrift shops too.”

Lucy raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

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