Love You Like a Sister
Page 14
I headed to the bathroom and knocked on the door.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” Lana said, and sniffed. Her voice was all wavy, like she had been crying.
I had figured this was where she was hiding. Probably because the bathroom was where I hid when I was upset too. “It’s Avery. Can I come in?”
“Oh. I . . . uh . . .”
I opened my bag and took out the emergency M&M’S I always carried with me. “I have chocolate.”
The lock clicked open.
I slowly opened the door. “Hi.”
She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “Hi,” she said. “Allergies,” she sniffled.
Yeah, right. I knew a fellow duck-and-crier when I saw one. I nodded. “I get them really bad too,” I lied. I held out the M&M’S. “Want some?”
The words were barely out of my mouth before she snatched the package from me and ripped it open so fast that a bunch of the candies skittered across the floor.
“I’m such a mess!” she wailed.
“It’s okay. They’re only M&M’S.”
She began to cry again.
“I can get more,” I said nervously. “There’s a convenience store across the street.”
“I wasn’t talking about that!” she wailed louder.
I started to panic. It had to be the hair thing. She had been acting like she was completely okay with walking down the aisle at her wedding with blue hair, but obviously that was just to make me feel better. “I’m so, so sorry, Lana,” I said, tears welling up in my eyes. “I’d do anything to be able to fix your hair!”
She cried even more, which made me cry more.
“Why are you crying?” she asked through her tears.
“Because you’re so upset about having blue hair!”
She shook her head. “That’s not why I’m crying.”
I stopped. “It’s not?”
“No. I’m crying because . . .” She got more upset. “Oh, I feel so stupid!”
Okay, I knew that brides were known for being a little nutty, but this was entering a-lot-nuts territory.
“This is all just . . . so much,” she confessed. “The move . . . trying to blend a family . . .” She sighed. “If you haven’t noticed, I can be somewhat of a perfectionist.”
“Really? Huh.” I tried to look like that was news to me.
“And although I’ve been trying to keep it together, I think I’m just really . . . scared.”
“Of what?”
“Everything,” she said, throwing her hands up. She looked at me. “But mostly of letting you down.”
“Me?” I asked, confused.
She nodded. “Yes. Before we got here, when I’d ask Matt about you—what you were like, what you liked—he never had a lot of answers. So I had this idea that you were just this average girl . . . but nothing could be further from the truth.”
I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.
“You’re really incredible, Avery,” she went on. “And I see the relationship you have with your mom, and how great it is, and I worry that you and I will never have that. I mean, I know I’m only your stepmother, so it’s not like we’re supposed to have that, but still—”
“Why can’t we have that?” I asked. “I mean, I know when people hear the word ‘stepmother,’ they always think it’s all negative. You know, like in fairy tales, but it doesn’t have to be like that.”
She smiled. “You’re right. It doesn’t.”
“It just has to take time, is all.” I smiled. “Time takes time.”
“That’s true.” She nodded. “I like that.”
“Thanks.” I probably should’ve mentioned that I had stolen that from Dad, but it was such a nice moment. Why go and ruin it?
She opened her arms and hugged me. “I really lucked out getting you as part of this package.”
I smiled. “Me too.”
She let go and smoothed her dress. “We should get going. We have a wedding to put on.”
* * *
And we did.
And although I hadn’t been to very many in my life, I’d say it turned out to be a great one. No one tripped while walking down the aisle. No one flubbed the readings of the various poems that were part of the ceremony. No one bawled like a baby as Dad and Lana said their “I dos.” (Okay, maybe I teared up a bit . . . or a bunch.) The food was great, and after we ate, even though there wasn’t a lot of room, people moved the tables out of the way and made a little dance floor, and Mom ran out to her car and rummaged through her trunk and found her iPhone speakers, and everyone danced, even my grandparents. (That alone was worth all of it—to see two old people jumping around to Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off.”)
After we had the cake, Dad and Lana gave a speech about how much it meant to them that everyone was there, and how it had been the perfect afternoon. Dad even said that he was thinking of permanently keeping his hair blue, which got a big laugh.
“And now we’d like to invite anyone who might have a few words they’d like to say to come up and share,” Dad said when the laughter had died down.
I looked over toward my grandmother. She always had something to add, but this time she stayed quiet. In fact, everyone did. And then—completely surprising myself—I felt my hand shoot up.
“I’d like to say something,” I said.
What was I doing?! I hated speaking in public!
Dad smiled. “Great. Come on up.”
Before I knew it, I was on my feet, making my way up to the microphone. As I looked out at the crowd, I felt myself start to sweat, praying that they couldn’t see it.
I cleared my throat. “Hi. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m, um, Avery.” I glanced over at the BBs. “And those girls over there”—I motioned—“they’re my . . . sisters.”
At that mention of the word “sisters,” not only did they smile, but so did my parents—all three of them.
“We actually haven’t known each other for that long, but in the short time that we have, we’ve kind of been through a lot.” At that, Cassie gave a little nod.
“My mom likes to say that while you don’t get to pick your family, you do get to pick your friends.” I turned toward Lexi. “And I’ve been really lucky that I’ve picked awesome ones,” I said as she got all teary. “But in this case, I’m extra lucky that even if these people weren’t my family, I’d be really honored to call them my friends.”
My speech went on, but I don’t really remember what I said. I was too busy smiling at them.
About the Author
ROBIN PALMER is the author of the five-book, middle-grade series Yours Truly, Lucy B. Parker as well as six young adult novels, including Geek Charming, which was made into a highly rated Disney Channel Original Movie. She lives in Louisiana with her family.
If you liked Love You Like a Sister, then you’ll love Princesses, Inc.
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Interior designed by Mike Rosamilia
Jacket designed by Karin Paprocki
The text of this book was set in Palatino LT Std.
Library of Congress Control Number 2016947406
ISBN 978-1-4814-6643-1 (hc)
ISBN 978-1-4814-6642-4 (pbk)
ISBN 978-1-4814-6644-8 (eBook)