California Girls(50)

She parked next to Zennie’s car and walked up the front walk, pausing when her phone buzzed.

Zennie joined her on the porch, then let her in the house.

“Did you get a text from Finola?” her sister asked by way of greeting. “She’s canceling on us.”

“No way.” Ali pulled out her phone. Sure enough, there it was.

Sorry to bail. I just can’t face more memories today. I’ll make it up to you.

Ali wrestled with conflicting emotions. On the one hand she understood her sister was going through a lot. On the other, there was still work to be done on their mom’s house and it wasn’t as if Finola was the only one going through emotional turmoil.

“Go ahead,” Zennie said as they went upstairs. “Tell me why I shouldn’t call her a selfish bitch.” Her tone was more cheerful than chiding. “You always take her side.”

“Not always. Just sometimes. As for today, while I appreciate what she’s dealing with, the least she could do was send us a minion to do her share of the hard labor.”

Zennie laughed. “I like your style.”

They reached the loft and stood staring at the half-open boxes, the mostly empty closet and the cabinets and drawers yet to be tackled.

“Ugh,” Zennie said. “This totally sucks. Tell you what. We’ll work until noon, then call it a day and go to Bob’s Big Boy for lunch.”

Ali grinned. “That is a perfect plan. You’ll probably get a salad, but I swear, I’m getting a burger and a milkshake.”

Zennie wrinkled her nose. “A salad? You’re confusing me with Finola. I’m a burger girl all the way.”

“You say that now, but Finola eats the way she does to stay skinny. You eat healthy because you’re athletic and see your body as a temple or something. It’s seriously depressing.”

Zennie gave her a strange look but before Ali could ask about it, she turned away and pointed to the cabinet. “Do you want to tackle that first, or finish the closet?”

“Let’s finish the closet. That way we’ll have space to stack the stuff we think Mom’s keeping. We’ll keep the junk and giveaway piles out of the closet.”

They carried out bins and boxes. Several fancy dresses hung on a rack.

“We might as well leave those,” Zennie said. “I have no idea if Mom wants to keep them, but whatever decision we make will be wrong.”

Ali agreed. Once the closet was empty except for the dresses, they moved in all the “keep” boxes before sitting on the floor to go through what was left.

Ali opened a bin full of old Halloween costumes. Some were really elaborate while others were the inexpensive store-bought kind. She tossed out the premade ones and saved those her mother had created. She held up a beautiful mermaid dress.

“I never wore this one. Did you?”

Zennie shook her head. “It’s Finola’s. All the good ones are. I never wanted to be a princess or anything girly, so Dad helped me be a pirate or whatever.”

Ali remembered the family discussions around Halloween. Zennie was right—she and their dad would go off to the garage and make something. By that point Finola wasn’t interested in going trick-or-treating, so Ali went to the grocery store with her mom to pick out a costume.

Ali fingered the handmade costume with its beading and fringe-fishtail. At some point the costume would have fit her—not that it had been offered and she hadn’t known about it so hadn’t asked.

For a second she thought about all the times she’d been the odd kid out. Her mother had been all about Finola and her dad had been all about Zennie. There’s been no third parent to be on Ali’s team.

“How are you doing with canceling the wedding?” Zennie asked. “Do you need help returning gifts or anything?”

“Thanks, but everything is done.” She wrinkled her nose. “I honestly don’t know what to do about the dress. I’m not excited about selling it or even donating it. I would love to give it to someone I knew needed it, but I don’t want to just put it in a donation box somewhere, knowing it will show up in a store and be priced at five dollars.”

She looked at her sister. “I don’t mean that in a horrible way.”

“I know what you mean. It was special and you want it to stay that way.”

“I kind of do. Maybe I should look online for a group that finds wedding gowns for women in need or something.”

“I have a friend who works in oncology at the hospital,” Zennie told her. “There was a patient who was thinking of getting married between rounds of chemo. Want me to check and see if she needs a dress?”

Ali smiled. “I would love that. Just make sure she knows it’s going to need alterations.” She pulled her phone from her pocket. “I think I still have a couple of pictures of the dress. I’ll text them to you and you can forward them to your friend.”

Giving the dress to someone in need would make her feel better about having to get rid of it.

She found the picture and studied herself for a second. She’d been so happy to finally find the right gown for her wedding. Even as she’d been excited, Glen had probably been plotting his exit. She wondered when he’d changed his mind about them. There was no way she was going to believe he’d tricked her from the beginning. Even Glen couldn’t be that awful, and if he could be, she didn’t want to know. She’d reached a place where she was sad but recovering from their broken engagement. The healing had come more quickly than she would have expected, which probably said something about their relationship.