Mixed bag.

Axl was clearly finished with this topic.

I knew this when he went back to the mail, put the picture and envelope on the counter, dumped the newspaper coupons in his recycle bin, and announced, “Time to make the sauce.”

“Can I help?” I offered.

“Yeah, top up my wine and take us into bummer-free zone. Tell me what we’re doin’ after dinner. You in the middle of bingeing something? Or you wanna stream a movie?”

Hanging with Axl in front of his TV sounded awesome.

Even so, I said, “Pac-Man.”

He turned his head my way. “Tourney?”

“Absolutely.”

He smiled and got out a saucepan.

I topped up his wine.

He made a roux, then he made the sauce. When the rice was done, he served up, we ate at his dining room table, and cleaned the kitchen together.

And he kicked my ass at Pac-Man.

Mental note: practice Pac-Man tomorrow.

Second way more important mental note: stop delaying in tackling things that terrify you.

Because you never know.

The spoils might be sweet.

Chapter Thirteen

Fireman’s Hold

Hattie

I threw back the curtains, and on shiny, bronze, sky-high stiletto heels, I walked out to “oo’s” and “ah’s” and some clapping hands.

“Thank God, it fits you like a glove,” Lottie breathed in relief.

It was Saturday. We were at the bridal shop for my bridesmaid dress fitting.

And Lottie was right.

Thank God my dress fit like a glove because, when I called for a fitting, it took days to get an appointment, and they’d told me then that the wedding was so close, “if alterations are significant, you might have to find an outside seamstress.”

Since I’d delayed this way too long, I was down with that and paying extra if needed.

But fortunately, it didn’t seem to be needed.

“The hem is even perfect,” Lottie’s mom, Nancy, said, coming toward me.

“Jump up on the pedestal, babe, turn to the mirror, let’s have a look,” Lottie ordered.

I did as told and looked into the mirror.

My hair was piled up on my head in a curly-haired girl’s messy bun, wavy tendrils floating down.

The bronze heels were what I was wearing to the wedding.

Along with, obviously, the dress, which was the sexiest bridesmaid dress I’d ever seen.

A shiny, soft, light brown satin with spaghetti straps, cleavage cut down to the midriff, and a slightly overlapping side slit that went all the way up to the waist that made underwear nearly impossible.

Though, I was going to try to find something. I could do commando, but it unnerved me, especially with that slit and the need to be walking down an aisle. If the material shifted in a bad way, which it could because it had a small train that added weight, shit could get real…in a church.

That said, I was not surprised about Lottie’s choice.