Page 61 of The Wedding Favor

“Watch it, old lady, or I’m going to tell everyone you cheat at poker.”

She just laughed and patted my cheek. “You love me.”

Abe watched her walk away, his expression a little in awe. “I like her.”

“Yeah, she’s something else,” I muttered.

TWENTY-THREE

“Mirrors are the window to the soul.”

—excerpt from the unpublished memoir,

Darling, I Must Say by Gloria Hayes

“Stop fidgeting or these victory rolls are going to look like they surrendered.” Mom glared at me in the mirror.

“You’ve been just waiting to use that one.”

She gave my hair an extra hard yank. Mom always had a way of reminding me exactly who was who in our relationship. I’d given her years of grief—a smart mouth, borderline grades (unless it was math class, then it was straight-up failing), coming home too late, half-truths, acting like a vampire’s less charming cousin. She’d run a fine line between letting me be independent and keeping her thumb on me. But, through it all, she never let me forget she loved me.

“You are extra fidgety tonight. Almost like you’re nervous.”

Oh, I was. The nerves had started about three seconds after I realized Abe was serious about going to the dance. I’d spent the last two days telling him how boring it would be: “It’s over by eight o’clock. You know, old people, early to bed and all. The punch won’t even be spiked. All the snacks are low sugar, high fiber. You’ll be forced to dance with every woman, and maybe a few men, in that place.”

But no, he wouldn’t listen to reason, saying he could use the practice.

Of course, Hallie was over the moon about the whole idea. She’d talked non-stop about Gloria. Gloria said this and Gloria said that. Did I know Gloria was a famous star when she was younger? Gloria said that the most important thing in life is daily moisturizing. Gloria called her darling. Gloria created the moon and stars. And on and on.

Mom squeezed my shoulders. “You’re wound so tight. Is it Mr. Logan? If he tries to cop a feel again…”

“It’s not Mr. Logan.” At last month’s dance, someone had spiked the punch, and we all discovered that mild-mannered, retired science teacher Mr. Logan could not keep his hands to himself when he was under the influence. I wasn’t the only woman who learned that firsthand. “He went on a big apology tour. Still can’t look at me in the eye without going all red in the face.”

“Well, good.” She smiled and took a step back, looking very pleased. “All done. Stand up so I can get the full effect.”

I stood, running a hand down my dress. The themes for the dances tended to lean toward fun, kitschy things like luau or disco. I got away with throwing on a lei or wearing bell bottoms. But when I heard it was forties themed, my favorite decade, I spent way too much time searching thrift stores in three different towns before I found the perfect outfit.

Mom circled a finger in the air, and I obliged. The dress was red and knee-length with cap sleeves. Pleating started at the shoulders and ran diagonally to create the V-neck. The long, fitted waist was followed by an A-line skirt that made me want to twirl around in circles like a little kid.

“I haven’t seen you dress up like this in a while. You look perfect.”

I bit my lip, squinting at my image in the full-length mirror tacked on the back of my bedroom door. “You have to say that; you’re my mother.”

She rested her chin on my shoulder. “You’re right, but I also have eyeballs. You look beautiful.”

With a weak smile, I ran a shaky hand down my body. I had a complicated relationship with feeling pretty. It was lovely to feel soft and sweet, but that femininity also made me feel vulnerable. I couldn’t hide behind my black t-shirts. I couldn’t be “I care about nothing” Iris dressed like this. Or at least it felt that way.

Mom frowned. “It’s not like you to be nervous. What’s going on?”

I shrugged and adjusted the dress collar. “I guess I am a little nervous.”

“About?”

“This dance.” With Abe in attendance. “The wedding.” Where Abe would be my date. There seemed to be a unifying detail here. The doorbell sounded before I had a chance to dig into that too much.

“I’ll get it.” Mom kissed my cheek. “Go get your shoes on.”

Hallie greeted me first, twirling around in a purple dress with a giant purple bow in her hair. “Don’t I look pretty?”