Page 61 of Feels Like the First Time
Chapter 12
Ali looked at her reflection, at the billowing yards of tiffany blue silk, and smiled. No matter how many people looked at her funny, she couldn’t seem to stop.
The smile had started Wednesday morning, when Hawk had dragged her to bed, and lasted straight through lunch, when he finally let her come up for air. It stuck with her through shoe shopping with Bridget, and the argument over the Hump-Day post on Instagram:Stanley Cup’s Stick, MIA—although the town agreed on theMissing inpart, there was heavy debate as to what theAstood for.
Now she stood on a chair in the middle of Sweetie Pies, during one of the most competitive games of coupon bingo in history, and she was smiling so hard, her cheeks hurt.
“I can’t believe you drove all the way to Boise to get this dress,” Bridget said, holding Ali’s hair up.
“Of course she did, she’s a good sister,” Bitsy said, neck-deep in silk, her head stuck up under Ali’s dress.
“I realized how important this was to you, and you’re right, it is…a special day.” She refused to say once in a lifetime. “So I called the magazine and told them that I had to be on the road to the airport by six p.m. They moved the interview to before the photo session, so I can make the red-eye, arriving in Florida just in time for the family brunch at Jamie’s parents’ house.”
“And your dress should fit like a glove,” Bitsy said.
“Thanks, Ms. Cunningham, for doing this on such short notice,” Ali said to the small woman moving beneath the dress.
Bitsy poked her head out from under the skirt and smiled around the needle in her teeth. “I’m no Raoul, but I’ve won the town’s quilting bee six years running. And if my hands are good enough to stitch a life-size wall hanging of the mayor,” the older woman whispered, “then I think I can hem a dress by next week.”
“I-27,” a voice said over the loudspeaker, which was really a microphone hooked up to an old boom box. “I-27.”
Bitsy paused, glanced at her card and screamed, “Bingo! I got bingo.”
“Last time you called bingo, you had just put markers on the numbers that looked good,” Fiona accused.
“I can’t help it if I pick winners,” Bitsy said, and with a promise to be back in a flash, the older woman marched her winning card up to the judges’ table. Leaving Ali and Bridget alone for the first time since their argument.
“She’s right, you know, you are a good sister,” Bridget said, taking a seat on the chair and spooning off a piece of apple pie. “You made it all work.”
Ali shrugged. She’d been making things work her whole life, so figuring out how to merge two schedules wasn’t as difficult as it sounded. Leaving her dad to his own devices for two days, that had been the challenge. But Bridget had assured her she’d keep an eye on Marty, and since Ali was working really hard on letting go of things that didn’t matter, so she could grab on to what did, she’d gone. Plus, it was a chance for Bridget to see just how far Marty had come in his recovery—and more important, how far he had yet to go.
“How was he?”
Bridget leaned back in the chair and laughed. “A handful. I had no idea how much help he still needed. If I didn’t remind him to take his medication, he’d just pretend he didn’t have to. And who tapes a Snickers bar under the coffee table?”
Ali laughed, enjoying the connection that came from talking with her sister about Marty, rather than arguing. “I once found a candy bar taped to the back of the toilet tank. I told him if he was that desperate, he could have it. But now that I’m back, you can focus on the wedding.”
“I didn’t mind being with him.” Bridget picked up an extra spoon and offered it to Ali.
Ali took a bite, let the gooey goodness melt on her tongue. A little bite of heaven right there in Destiny Bay.
“Dad said you took care of his flight and travel,” Ali said. “I know he doesn’t say much about his finances, but a flight to Florida would have been hard for him to afford.”
The money he’d already spent on the party, the tux, the dance lessons had made a dent in his monthly allowance. Ali had paid her dad good money for his shop, and if Marty was careful, he could live off that and his retirement for a good long while.
Bridget shrugged. “It was no biggie. Jamie and I decided that since we moved the wedding to Florida, we’d cover his costs. We’ll cover him, too. I mean, look out for him while he’s there. So I’ll fly out Monday and Jamie will bring Dad with him Tuesday.”
Ali nodded, unsure how to bring up a topic that had been bothering her for a while now. How did she tell her sister that she needed help, without letting Bridget think that Ali couldn’t handle Marty’s growing needs?
Ali would never want Bridget to feel obligated to pitch in; Marty deserved more than that. Just like she’d never want him to think that his illness was a burden on Ali.
“Dad’s loved having you here,” Ali began, testing the waters.
Disappointment darkened her sister’s eyes. “He’s spent half the time down on the boat.”
And there it was again, her family’s incredible communication skills hard at work. Sometimes Ali wondered how they managed to stay together as long as they had. “Well, then join him on the boat.”
Bridget rolled her eyes. “So you and he can bond over knots and wind speeds? No thanks.”
