But last night was a real test of faith. I think I deserve entry to the gates of heaven because I’m a goddamn saint for resisting him. Call the Pope or something, because I felt like Eve, and Oliver’s big fucking dick was the forbidden fruit. I didn’t partake, so now I need to be rewarded.
“Yoo-hoo! Earth to Mindy!” Roxy says, waving her hand in my face.
I’m snapped back to attention. Roxy’s driving us down the road in her white convertible with the sun roof down. The wind ruffles through our hair, and the weather is amazing. You couldn’t ask for a better day, really. With clear blue skies and the sun warming our skin, everything is just right. Off in the distance, I can see the deep blue ocean. This place is nothing but beautiful. If I had to name a place to live, I think I would love to live here.
“Yeah?” I ask, setting aside my thoughts about Oliver and the creeping fantasy I have of him and me and this place. “What?”
Roxy grins, raising her voice to talk over the wind. “You look like you’re in another world. Was the sex that good?”
I scowl at Roxy. “You do realize your grandma’s in the back seat, right?”
“Are you serious?” Roxy asks, glancing in the rearview mirror. “She says and hears things far worse than that, ain’t that right, Grandma?”
In the back, my annoyance grows as Grandma cackles. “Honey, I might be old, but I ain't dead. I’ve had more than my fair share of rides in the rodeo back in the day and put more than my fair share of cowboys away wet at night.”
“See?” Roxy says as I wish I could just crawl into a hole and die. And Brianna thinks I’m forward? “Hell, I’d have her twerking on ladies’ night at Trixie’s if I could.”
“Don’t you dare,” I say, feeling like the most mature person in the vehicle. “You’re not about to have my Maw-Maw down there looking like some geriatric Nikki Minaj.”
Roxy laughs, and silence reigns for a moment. “So, how have you been?” I ask Roxy seriously. “I haven’t gotten a moment alone with you since we got here. You doing okay?”
“I’ve been good,” Roxy says, giving me a smirk and a shrug. “But Mom’s been giving me hell for taking a year off college to pursue singing. What else is new? She doesn’t approve of anything I do unless it’s something she wants.”
Her words resonate with me. Aren’t I pulling this whole charade to please my mother? I’m making an ass of myself in front of my family just so I can appear to have found a man. “It’s just her way,” I say.
We make it to the dress shop. It’s a small little place in a strip mall between a karate studio and an eyeglass shop. I’m not sure at first, but when Roxy leads me inside, I see that everything’s high-end. “This looks expensive as hell. I’d feel like I was slumming it in a Vera Wang,” I say. “Jesus, this thing costs more than what I make in two months.”
“Good thing I have John's credit card then,” Roxy says with a chuckle, patting her hip pocket.
“What do you think of that?” I ask.
“What do I think of what?” Roxy asks as Grandma settles into one of the well-padded chairs and hums to herself.
“Of Mom marrying him?” I ask.
I know the conversation I had with Mom, but I want Roxy’s opinion too. She bites her lower lip for a second as she thinks before answering. “He seems like a really sweet man. At first, I didn't think that they made a good match. He's laid-back, and as you know, Mom can be pretty . . . high-strung. But for the most part, they've meshed pretty well. And despite all the bullshit, Mom’s really the same inside.”
“That's good. As long as she's happy,” I say as I finger a tight little party dress. It’d look great on me, and I can just imagine myself dancing with Oliver . . . wait, what the hell?
“That's always what's most important,” Grandma says as I quickly let the dress go. Now is not the time to think about Oliver. “Because if you ain't happy, everything and everyone around you will be miserable.”
Roxie lets out a snort. “I know that's right. Preach, Granny Goose! You’re on a roll today!”
“And if the shoe doesn't fit, don't wear the stinky thing,” Grandma says, egged on by Roxy. “Cast it out!”
Roxy laughs as the salesperson comes over, looking like someone cut a fart in church. “May I help you?”
“Yes, we’re here to pick up some dresses,” Roxy says. “The name is Wentworth?”
At the mention of John’s name, the bitch face disappears and a giant smile comes out. “Of course! I’ll have them out in a second.”
It’s not quite a second, but they’re back in a jiffy. They’re certainly high-end. I seriously doubt any flower girls in history have worn dresses quite this level before.
“These are cute,” Roxy says. “These would be great for your wedding too, Mindy!”
I want to have enthusiasm, but It’s hard to even think about. There won’t be any marriage. At least, not with Oliver. “Yeah, that would be cool.”
“What’s the matter?” she asks, noticing my tone. “You don’t seem too excited. Aren’t you looking forward to your wedding? You two just seem so perfect for each other.”
Looking at my sister’s encouraging smile, I feel like a fucking fraud. I should have known this fake-marriage thing wouldn’t be so casual. I catch Grandma looking at me. She tears her eyes away when I see, but in that instant, I’m reminded that Grandma has been around for a long time. She’s raised two daughters and a son, buried a husband and her son, and the whole time has been smart as a whip. She sees things other people don’t. I need to be careful.
“Of course I am, but we haven’t even set a date yet.” God, I sound guilty, I know it.
Roxy shrugs, turning her attention back to the dresses. “Fine. I didn't mean to upset you.”
I just want to hurry up and get this week over with. I feel like time is crawling, every minute is a year of mental agony already, and every mention of sex, Oliver, weddings, or babies is like a stab right in my gut.
We spend the next hour checking the dresses, but in the end, everything looks good. The tab makes me blanche while Roxy doesn’t bat an eyelash at letting them swipe John’s card. Instead, she just laughs as we carry the dresses out to the car. “Man, I really wish we could have gotten some of those party dresses. I saw you eyeing one. You’d look great in it. Not as good as me, but good.”
“I’d make you look like a little girl playing dress-up,” I tease back. “Oh, wait . . . you ARE a little girl playing dress-up.”
“Bitch,” Roxy says with a laugh, and I feel good again. On the way back, I forget about my worries as we all catch up on each other’s day-to-day lives.
When we reach the Wentworth estate, my stomach is grumbling and I can't wait to get some food. We both help Grandma out and bring the bags in, setting them in the den where I guess Mom’s starting to gather the stuff.
“We’re home!” Roxy sings when we walk back into the foyer. “Looks like Mom, Rita and Layla, and the men aren’t back yet. Let’s go wait in the TV room. You’ve gotta check out John’s system. They should be back soon, but seriously, Min, you need to see this thing. It’s nearly the size of a movie screen!”
“I hope they’re quick, ‘cause I’m starving,” I say, following Roxy into the entertainment room. Her description was a bit over-the-top. It’s not the size of a movie theater, but still, a seven-feet-tall projection screen is pretty damn sweet. “Wow, imagine watching Ryan Gosling on this thing. He’d be life-sized.”
“Imagine watching porn on this thing,” Roxy says with a laugh. “The guys’ dicks are life-sized.”
“You . . .” I start before just shaking my head. “Just please tell me that you watch it by yourself.”
“Well, duh.”
Before I can reply, I hear a yell from the foyer. “We’re home!”
Thank God for a mother who insists on making her lunch appointments. We go out where Mom and Aunt Rita are handing off their bags. “How’d you girls do?” Mom asks. “Been back long?”
“Everything went well,” Roxy reassures Mom. “They’re in the den. You guys?”