The Fable of Us

“No problem. I agree. Nice pep talk though.” I went to open the door, needing to get yet another thing over with. Rip the bandage off had been the theme of my visit so far—and the theme of much of my life down here.

I wasn’t sure how many people would be at tonight’s shindig. I hadn’t asked. I knew my parents had rented out The Half Shell and hired a band and spent more on food and alcohol for this one meal than most couples spent on their actual wedding, but the guest count I wasn’t sure on. Judging by the number of Lexuses and Mercedes gleaming in the parking lot, I would guess at least a hundred.

One hundred people would get to bear witness to me tromping around the place, eating crab claws and looking like a peach-colored sea cucumber. I could only imagine the clips that would be posted to YouTube and go viral come tomorrow.

One hundred people would also get to see that my sister could try all she wanted, but I wouldn’t bow to her. They would see that I was made of stronger stuff than my family let on and there was more to the rich girl who’d once dated the poor boy than just her last name and trust fund.

After giving myself that pep talk, I pulled the door open.

“So,” Avalee said, going in first when I held the door open for her, “did Boone survive the day with the guys? When I checked in with Sterling, it sounded like things might have been a little rough for him.”

I followed her inside and let the door close. There. We were inside. Now all I had to do was mill about the room, waving and greeting a bunch of people while pretending I wasn’t dressed like Bozo the Clown’s mistress.

“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him since this morning,” I answered.

“Really? You didn’t at least call to check in and see if he needed a rescue?” Avalee gave me a small shove. “That’s cold, Clara Belle. You can’t just throw a guy to Daddy and the rest of those guys, especially a guy named Boone Cavanaugh.”

I shrugged, though it probably wasn’t noticeable through the puffed sleeves of my dress. “Boone’s always been a sink-or-swim type of guy. I’m sure he made it through just fine.”

We caught sight of Sterling back by the bar with a couple of other guys. He smiled and waved Avalee over. She lifted her finger to give herself a moment.

Then she turned and gave me a curious look. “Now. It’s just you and me. Are you going to tell me what’s going on between you two? Or am I supposed to keep believing you two just randomly reconnected and one thing led to another?” She crossed her arms and gave me a look that suggested she saw through it all.

“If there’s anyone I could tell the whole story to, it would be you, but for now, I’d prefer to keep it under wraps.” When she opened her mouth to protest, I added, “Plus, your fiancé looks like he’s missed you and has that impatient come-hither look, and I don’t want to feel rushed explaining Boone and me to you, okay?”

She exhaled and rolled her fingers across her arm. “I’d pressure you a few more rounds if I didn’t already know that while you might have gotten Mama’s good looks, you sure got more than your fair share of bullheadedness from our daddy.”

Now it was me opening my mouth to object.

“And before you spend the rest of the night trying to convince me otherwise and demanding I take back what I just said, think about who else would do the exact same thing.” Avalee’s gaze didn’t so casually move through the crowd until she spotted our dad with a glass of bourbon in one hand, his other shaking the hands of a bunch of guests.

“I’m stuffed inside a peach condom, Avalee.” I did a not-so-graceful spin in the sausage casing of a dress to remind her. “Kicking me when I’m down is just not cool.”

A laugh burst from her, but she covered her mouth to try to stop it. I pulled her hands away and laughed with her.

“It’s okay. Laugh. This”—I did another spin, almost tipping over—“is funny if there ever was such a thing.”

“I feel terrible for laughing,” she said, though she continued to laugh with me.

“Well, it’s a terrible thing,” I teased before shoving her toward her fiancé. “Now go be a good future Southern wife and make him get you a drink.”

She waved at me over her shoulder before rushing toward Sterling and throwing herself into his arms before he had them open.

This visit was becoming strange and unexpected in some wonderful ways. First my mom apologizing and now Avalee behaving like we were a couple of co-conspirators in cahoots to rise to world domination. Maybe my trip wouldn’t be a total failure after all. Maybe there’d be something positive I could take from it.

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