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“I should change,” I said, gathering the Tupperware containers we’d used to move the cupcakes outside.
“Hurry,” Mom said. “We’re eating at six.”
The Peace Falls police had placed barricades on either end of the street at five-thirty. Up and down the block, neighbors were carrying folding tables toward our house, which sat smack in the middle of the street.
“I don’t suppose you’re changing for the party, Poppy?” Mom added.
Poppy looked down at her black dress. “Not unless you want me to add my skull necklace. The fancy one.”
“Maybe a sun hat,” Mom said. “You’re still a redhead, after all.”
Lauren insisted on taking the Tupperware as we followed my sister into the house and back to the kitchen.
“I’m not an invalid,” I said as Lauren dumped the plasticware onto the same section of counter where Cal had pressed his hard body against mine. Despite how much I’d tried to pretend THE kiss hadn’t happened, my cheeks burned. I was equally turned on and mortified by the memory. Cal couldn’t leave the kitchen fast enough and hadn’t spoken to me since, but it was, without question, the hottest kiss of my life.
“Are you feeling ok?” Lauren asked, putting her hand on my forehead. “You’re all red.”
“I’m fine,” I said, forcing a smile. “We’ve been running around all day.”
“Well cool off, or you won’t be able to wear the dress I brought you. You’re not wearing that star romper again.”
“What’s wrong with my star romper? It’s festive.”
“It’s hideous,” Poppy said.
I crossed my arms and glared at the pair of them. “Why didn’t y’all say something all the other times I wore it.”
Lauren shrugged. “You seemed to like wearing it.”
“She means you weren’t single then, so it didn’t matter,” Poppy said, rummaging through the hat rack in the corner. With three redheads in the house, we’d amassed an impressive collection. Poppy pulled out a large-brim black hat better suited for a high-society funeral than a 4thof July picnic.
“Do you even need a hat?” I asked. “The sun will be down in a couple hours.”
“Mom's right. It completes my outfit.”
“And you seriously expect me to take style advice from you.”
“Fine,” she said, plopping the ridiculous hat on her head. “Take it from Lauren.”
Lauren smiled. “I left the dress on your bed. Oh, and take your hair down from that messy bun.”
“It’s eighty-nine degrees. I’m not wearing my hair down.”
Lauren stuck out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “Fine, but I’m doing your makeup.”
“I’ll guard the cupcakes,” Poppy said.
Lauren sighed. “People are supposed to eat them, Poppy. Take a picture and then walk away. You’ll scare the children.”
“I meant from flies,” my sister said, but the slight blush on her cheeks made me question if that’s all she’d be swatting away.
“We better hurry,” Lauren said, grabbing my hand and tugging me up the stairs to the room I shared with Poppy.
“Absolutely not,” I said, when I saw the dress she’d brought.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“It has spaghetti straps. I refuse to be tugging on a strapless bra all evening.”
