Page 58 of Playing for Keeps

In my heart, I knew he wasn’t right for me.

I just wished I’d figured it out before.

* * *

“I’m so glad you’re feeling better.” Mom released me from a hug and took my hand. She patted at it with her free hand, just like Gramma used to do when she’d come to visit us back home. “You look better, too. You’re not as green as you were yesterday.”

She didn’t wait for a response, and I had none to give. She’d come to check on me yesterday, to make sure I was okay. My guilt and disgust at myself, as well as my massive hangover, made it unnecessary to put on a show.

I felt like shit.

From the outside all the way in.

Mom pulled at my hand, dragging me along the hallways of the church, that tug against my arm the only thing keeping me from descending into the quiet madness of my mind. She led me into a room, past a circle of chairs. Bright sunlight shone down from the windows near the ceiling, giving the space an uplifting feel. Past the cross on the back wall was a handicap restroom.

“Vivian said you could use this bathroom to get ready. It’s nice and roomy and has the best lighting for hair and makeup.” Mom tugged at the long strands of my hair, her eyes starting to tear up as she admired the straight locks gathered in her hands. “You’re going to look so beautiful.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I told her, leaning forward to give her another hug. Not wanting to think about hair wrapped around hands. Not wanting to see her tears and have them start to flow from my eyes, too.

I’d cried enough the last two days.

“When you’re done,” Mom said, pulling back a little and wiping at her cheeks, “you can meet the girls in there. Viv said they’re finishing up the last few decorations before they come get ready, too. I’ll see you soon.”

My gaze followed the direction Mom had pointed before whipping back the way we’d come in. It was a Jack-and-Jill-style bathroom situated between two separate rooms. As Mom left, she pulled the door shut behind her with a soft click.

Hefting my bag onto the counter and my dress up on a hook, I started unloading my stuff. I plugged in my curling iron and shuffled through my makeup bag for my brush.

Vivian had shown me how to do my makeup last week. The gentle blending and contouring that showed off my high cheekbones and brought out the color of my eyes. I’d need all the help I could get. My face looked pale, my eyes sunken and laying in a nest of deep purple bags. When Vivian proclaimed she’d decorate the wedding in every shade of purple available this time of year, I was sure this wasn’t what she had in mind.

I was almost done hiding the sick pallor of my face behind makeup when I heard voices in the other room. Stepping away from the counter, I locked the door to the room I’d come in through, then turned to the other entrance.

“I wonder what it would be like if my mom were here,” Frankie said as I reached for the open door. “If she’d be helpful like Corey’s mom—”

“Margie’s the best.”

“—or if she’d be trying to bed every man that walked by like she did my whole childhood.”

Pulling my hand to my chest, I put my back against the wall. Listening as my future sister-in-law compared my mom to hers.

“Knowing her, she’d be all over James,” Vivian said, sweet laughter in her voice.

“Right?” Frankie said, her laughter singing along. “I mean, I know where Corey gets his looks from.”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Can you imagine?” Frankie asked, sounding more horrified that wistful. “Poor Marco would be charging after her, scaring away all the men. Telling her to act her age and keep her legs crossed.”

On the bathroom counter, the light on my curling iron flashed, telling me it was hot. With silence coming from the other room, I took a step toward the counter, then stopped.

“Is it bad that I’m not sad she’s not here?” Frankie asked. “I mean, I loved my mother, I did. But my greatest memories of her was how embarrassing her antics were.”

“Don’t feel bad, Frankie,” Vivian soothed. “If your mom were still alive, think of how much different your life would be. You probably wouldn’t have met Corey.”

“True.”

A smile tugged at my lips, and I took the last few steps to the counter to finish getting ready.

“Think of it this way. At least you had a mother.” Vivian said, her laughter gone, her tone turned hard. “Mine took one look at me and ran for the hills. I think all my issues stem from her. And poor Vin. The woman who is supposed to love him the most didn’t even look at him before she completely abandoned him. No wonder he is the way he is.”