“You know me,” Carol said confidently. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t know it was right.”
There was a moment of silence as Abby’s parents exchanged a look. Abby waited for one of them to say something. For them to let Carol have it. For them to forbid her to make this huge mistake, which was exactly what this was. A huge, huge mistake. Well, if no one was going to say anything, then Abby was. “But— but—Tucker lives on a ranch, Carol! A ranch! And you’re—you’re a vegetarian!”
But Carol just laughed. “Be happy for me,” Carol said, stepping toward her parents. “Think about it. You get to plan my wedding! We’re thinking August. And we want to have it right here, at the Dove’s Roost.”
“What?” Abby screeched. She looked over at her parents and realized they actually looked okay with this. They even looked like they were getting a little excited at the idea of planning Carol’s nuptials.
Carol couldn’t. She . . . she wouldn’t. A Dove’s Roost Bridezilla? It went against everything they had ever believed. It went against every fiber of Carol’s being.
“But—but August is the hottest month of the year,” Abby said, unable to come up with anything else.
“Abby,” Carol said, approaching her with a smile. She reached out and took Abby’s trembling hands. “You have to be my maid of honor.”
“Me?”
Carol hugged her. “Who else would it be? Isn’t this great?”
Abby stepped away from her sister, her mind reeling. There were so many things wrong with this whole situation, she could barely put them in comprehensible order.
“No! It’s not great! What are you thinking?” Abby exploded. “You’ve only known this guy for, like, five seconds! And Dad’s right! We’ve never even met him! And P.S., he lives halfway across the country! What’re you gonna do, move to Colorado to tend cattle or something? What about your job?”
Carol’s face dropped. “Actually, I’ve already declined my internship so I can concentrate on planning the wedding. But after the summer, yeah. We’ll probably live out there.”
“You declined your internship?” Abby stared at her sister. “Carol, you’ve been wanting that job since freshman year. You beat out a hundred other applicants to get it.”
“I know, but I’ll get another job in Colorado,” Carol replied with a shrug. “They have a ton of great organizations out there. . . .”
Abby had the sudden gut-wrenching sensation that she didn’t even know the person standing in front of her. Everything Carol was, everything she had always stood for, had been tossed aside. The job she always wanted? Who cared? The fact that she loved Watertown and Boston? Whatever. The independent, free-spirited, willing-to-jet-off-to-anywhere-at-a-moment’s-notice girl? Gone forever.
“We haven’t figured it all out yet, but I think what matters is that Tucker and I love each other and we want to be together,” Carol said.
“So be together. You don’t have to get married for that,” Abby said. “What about the pact?”
The moment Abby said those words out loud she realized she sounded even more ridiculous than she already had. After all, as she’d grown older she had realized that the pact they had made as little girls might not hold up over time. But it was still the first thing that came to mind. Carol was deserting her for a guy Abby had never even laid eyes on.
It was supposed to be the two of them, the sane Beaumont sisters, versus the wedding insanity perpetuated by their nuptial-obsessed parents.
“Abby, now calm down,” her father said. “It’s good to voice your concerns, but if this is what your sister wants—”
“Come on, Dad. You were concerned two seconds ago,” Abby said. “Up until you realized this gave you another wedding to plan.”
“Now, Abby, that’s unfair,” her mother said.
“Maybe it is, but not as unfair as the fact that Carol’s leaving us for some guy she hasn’t even bothered to bring home. Doesn’t anyone see that but me?”
“Look, I know it’s kind of sudden,” her sister said. “But I thought you’d be happy for me.”
“Well, I’m not,” Abby said, tears springing to her eyes. “I’m sorry, but I’m not.”
She turned on her heel and ran for the stairs to the residence, taking them two at a time. There was no way this was happening. Just no way. Carol couldn’t do this. She couldn’t give up everything for some guy she barely knew. She couldn’t desert Abby to go spend the summer at a slaughterhouse two thousand miles away. And if she thought Abby was going to stand up there and be her maid of honor while she made the worst mistake of her life, she had another think coming.
Abby slammed the door to her room, picked up her soccer ball and hurled it against the wall. It ricocheted off and took out an entire shelf of trophies. She flopped down on her unmade bed, curled into a ball and pulled the blanket over her head, the way she used to do back when she was a little girl. Back when Carol was still Carol instead of someone’s wife-to-be.
When the knock came at her door fifteen minutes later, Abby half wanted to ignore it, but it wasn’t like her entire family didn’t know where she was. She sighed and sat up.
“Yeah.”
The door opened and Carol walked in. Abby pushed herself back on her bed and grabbed a pillow, hugging it to her.
“Here to tell me the particular shade of pink I have to wear?” she asked.
“Abby, please don’t tell me this is really about the pact,” her sister said. “I mean, you didn’t really still think we were never going to get married.”
“No,” Abby said. “But do you have to do it now?” I thought I was getting you back, at least for a little while. And now you’re leaving me—again.
“Abby, listen, I know this is all out of nowhere,” Carol said, sitting on the edge of the bed. She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. “Trust me, I know. It was all out of nowhere for me, too. But when Tucker asked . . . it just felt right. I just knew.” She paused and turned her ring between her thumb and forefinger. “It’s hard to explain.”
“But Carol, you’re barely out of college,” Abby said, pushing her hands into her bedspread. “You’re gonna meet, like, a million more guys.”
Carol laughed and turned her head to look at Abby. “Yeah, but none of them are gonna be like Tucker.”
Abby’s heart thumped extra hard. There was something about the look on her sister’s face. Something had changed. Her sister had always been tough, headstrong and defensive most of the time. The girl had had political beliefs since the age of nine. Growing up, everyone had picked on her for being a vegetarian and for holding sit-ins in the cafeteria and boycotting Burger King. As a result of all this, Carol had always carried herself like she was ready for a fight, ready for someone to challenge her and ready to take the challenge.
But now . . . now it was like all the tension was smoothed out of her face. Like the defiance in her eyes had softened a bit. Like she wasn’t so angry anymore.
“What?” Carol said. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I don’t know,” Abby said slowly. She suddenly felt uncomfortable. “You look different, I guess.”
Carol’s grin widened, lighting up the entire room. “I’m happy.”
Abby looked down at her bedspread and sighed.
“Come on, Ab. You’re gonna love Tucker, I swear,” she added.
How am I supposed to love the guy who’s stealing my sister? Abby thought.
Carol pulled her legs up onto the bed so she could face Abby. “This isn’t a bad thing. It’s a good thing,” she said. “A really, really good thing.”
Abby took a deep breath. And looked into Carol’s face. Carol was staring back at her and she looked so happy, and so hopeful. “Please just be happy for me?” she asked. “Please?” And she smiled so sweetly. What was Abby supposed to do?
Abby sighed again.
“Well,” Abby said slowly. “I would just like to mention ahead of time that I am not wearing poofs, b
ows or flower patterns of any kind.” She tried to force her face into a smile, but a half-smile was all she could muster.
“You can wear whatever you want,” Carol said. “And I promise you won’t have to do anything but show up.”
“Swear?” Abby asked.
“Swear,” her sister said. “I know how you feel about weddings, Abby. I’m not gonna be a Bridezilla, I promise.”
“Carol, it’s inevitable. No one is immune. We’ve seen it happen a zillion times.”
“Exactly! That’s what gives me the edge.” Carol shook her finger at Abby. “I can fight it because I know the signs. I’m not going to let the curse of the Dove’s Roost get to me. No siree. And besides, it might be nice to get all dressed up and party with the people we love.”
Abby took a deep breath. “Okay,” she said. “Okay.”
Carol leaned over and hugged her tightly. “It really means a lot to me that you’re okay with this.”
But I’m so not, Abby thought, her heart full as she hugged her back. I’m so not okay with any of this.
An hour later, Abby was doing what she did best— taking her frustration out on the soccer field. She dribbled along the sideline, breathing in bursts, her pulse pumping in her ears. She saw Rob Rand coming at her from the corner of her eye, straight across the field. He didn’t think she saw him coming, so she let him believe she was oblivious. She kept dribbling and running until the very last second. Rob made a play for the ball but it was no longer there—Abby had passed it cross-field to Christopher. And Rob ended up right on his ass.
Normally, in a pickup game such as this, Abby might have taken a split second to gloat, but she couldn’t stop. She was in the zone. And as long as she was in the zone, she wasn’t thinking about anything else. Weddings, sisters, Bridezillas. None of it existed in the zone.
Keep it . . . Keep it . . . , she thought as a couple of defenders came at Christopher. She ran to center field and Christopher popped the ball perfectly to her. Abby stopped the pass and turned. Everyone had been covering Christopher. It was all open field between her and the net. Britney Cox was in goal. Please. Abby could beat that little frosh any day of the week.
Abby raced up, faked left, and as soon as Britney dove for the phantom shot, Abby kicked hard and put the ball right into the top left corner of the net. Abby felt the familiar little rush of happiness that always followed a goal.
“Whoooo!” Christopher shouted, running toward her.
Abby let Christopher sweep her up into a sweaty hug, then she slapped hands with the rest of her makeshift team. This was another fabulous thing about living in Watertown. Both Lockport Academy and Watertown High had been turning out state champion soccer teams for as long as the town could remember. There were so many soccer players and wannabes walking around, finding a game was never a problem. And after the big announcement, there was nothing Abby needed more than a game.
“Want a ride home?” Christopher asked, heading for the sidelines.
“Wait, what?” Abby replied, sucking wind. “Aren’t we still playing?”
“We were playing to five,” Christopher said. He pointed over his shoulder at the goal. “That was five.”
“Really?”
Abby checked her Nike watch and sighed. It was already six o’clock. Where had the time gone?
“Actually, I think I’m gonna jog home,” she said. “Do a little cooldown.”
And maybe take the longest available route, she added silently. On the way to the field, Abby had used every shortcut, wanting nothing more than to get out there and kick the ball—as hard as possible, as often as possible. But now she was thinking about running down by the water and back up through Main Street to get home. . . .
“Avoiding your sister, huh?” Christopher said, grabbing a towel to swab his face. “I can’t believe she’s getting married, yo.”
“Join the club,” Abby said.
“Do you think she’ll, like, have kids right away? That’d be insane,” Christopher said. “You’d be Auntie Abby.”
Kids? Abby hadn’t even thought about kids. But that was what married people did, right? Procreated?
“I’ve got to get out of here,” Abby said. “See ya.”
Before Christopher even had a chance to utter a goodbye, Abby was tearing across the field. It was amazing. The day before Abby couldn’t wait for Carol to get home. And now all she could think about was avoiding her.
ENGAGEMENTS
Phoebe and David Beaumont, residents of Watertown, announce the engagement of their daughter Carol Marie to Tucker Robb, son of Clint and Mary Robb and stepson of Sharon Robb, all of Denver.
The bride-to-be is a recent summa cum laude graduate of Harvard University, where she majored in environmental science and public policy. She will not be immediately pursuing a career in this field, however, opting for a summer off to immerse herself in the Culture of the Bride and thereby shave at least fifty points off her IQ.
The groom-to-be is a graduate of the University of Colorado and has just received his EdM degree at Harvard. Strangely, all other pertinent facts about the groom are as yet unknown, even to the bride’s family, who we’d think would at least be clued in to his middle name and medical history before Carol tied herself to him for all eternity.
An August wedding is planned, after which the couple will reside just outside Denver, which is exactly 1970.07 miles from Boston.
• 4 •
Here Comes the Groom
Abby sat in her room, trying to read the list of topics she had to study for her history final, but she couldn’t concentrate. In ten minutes or less, Abby was going to meet the enemy. The guy who had lobotomized her sister. Tucker Robb.
It had been two weeks since her sister’s big announcement, and the wedding planning was zooming at full-speed ahead. Amazingly the Dove’s Roost had had a cancellation, and Mrs. Beaumont had immediately slotted Carol and Tucker’s wedding into the available prime slot. Carol had already hired their parents’ favorite band, Twilight, and secured a justice of the peace to do the ceremony. Her parents had even laid out deposits! And now Tucker was on his way to the Dove’s Roost, where he was going to be staying for the next month—all the way up to the day of the wedding. Abby hated to admit it, but it looked as if this thing was actually going to happen.
Abby had been doing everything she could to think about the wedding as little as possible. And that meant being at home as little as possible. She’d picked up extra shifts at the store, spent hours at the library studying for finals and hid out at Delila’s house whenever she could. Last Saturday afternoon while Carol and her parents had interviewed photographers, Abby had snuck over to her best friend’s house, where Delila had spent three hours perfecting Abby’s mother’s signature, then forged it perfectly on the application for Student XChange. Once that and the financial aid package were sealed, Abby and Delila had kissed both envelopes and said a little prayer over Delila’s mailbox before tossing them in.
Which meant Abby was doing two things— excitedly looking forward to getting the response to her application. And dreading the arrival of Tucker.
Suddenly Abby heard the crunch of the gravel at the bottom of the driveway. She looked out her window to find a black Ram pickup truck rolling toward the fountain that centered the circular drive. God! The guy even drove a gas-guzzler. Was Carol under some kind of mind control? The front door slammed and Carol flew over to the driver’s-side door, yanking it open before the truck even stopped moving.
“Puke on a stick,” Abby said under her breath.
Then came her very first view of Tucker Robb, the man who would be her brother-in-law. He stepped out of the truck and wrapped her sister up in a hug, taking her off her feet. He wore pressed khakis, a green plaid shirt and work boots. His blond hair was shaggy on top and short on the sides and from where Abby stood he appeared to have the chiseled features of a movie star. Not surprising. Carol had always dated pretty boys.
After a long kiss, Caro
l dragged Tucker inside by the hand and the door slammed again.
“Mom! Dad! Come meet your future son-in-law!” Carol called in a singsongy voice.
“Ugh. Puke on a stick with mustard,” Abby said, slumping back in her chair.
Almost instantly the muffled, excited voices of her mother and father sounded from the foyer. She could hear Tucker’s voice—a baritone—and his throaty laugh. In fact he was laughing way too much. Either he was nervous or a total suck-up. “Abby!” Carol shouted up the steps. “Tucker’s here.”
Abby forced herself off her bed. What exactly was the point of all this? There was no way she was ever gonna like the guy who was making her sister move clear across the country.
She clomped down the stairs, arms crossed over her chest, and stopped a few feet up from the happy family unit that was gathered below. Tucker looked up at her and smiled, flashing pearly whites.
Wow, he was really hot. There had to be something wrong with him.
“Hey, Ab,” Tucker said. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Carol talks about you 24/7.”
“Hi,” Abby said, walking down the last few stairs.
So here he was. This was him. The guy who was taking Carol off to live with five dozen future sides of beef in a state she’d never been to. Abby leaned her side into the banister and wondered how long she had to stand here before she could retreat to her room again.
She imagined Carol’s voice inside her head. You’re being a brat, she would say. Abby knew it was true, but she couldn’t seem to make this heavy feeling in her chest go away.
“So . . . ,” Abby said, feeling like she had to say something.
Suddenly Tucker grabbed her up in a tight bear hug. Abby let out a surprised squeak as he pinned her to him. Her lower arms flailed out at her sides helplessly.
Invasion of personal space! Abort! Abort!
“This is so cool! I’ve never had a kid sister!” Tucker said. He smelled all musky and guylike. Abby would know, what with her nose mashed against his shoulder.
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