Grimshaw looks up at him. “Who won?” she asks. Her voice is slightly husky from shouting all day.

“You don’t know?”

“We left early.”

“We have better things to do,” Rack puts in.

Grimshaw finishes the cufflink.

“Well done,” Allen says. “It feels right.” She starts on the second one while we watch him watch her.

When she finishes, she takes a step back from him and straightens his bow tie. She squints at him, brushes a few snowflakes off his lapels, and then nods. “You’re all set.”

“You got a dress?” he asks her.

“Sure. Why?”

“I need a date.”

“My house is closer,” offers Angel. “You can get one of mine.”

“God, Allen!” Rack explodes. “You’re so forward! Do you even know her name?”

“I will when you introduce us.” Allen winks at Grimshaw. “They’re your friends.”

“Allen,” Rack exaggerates, gesturing at me. “This is Serena Velasco.”

“Serena,” Allen says, smiling at Grimshaw. “That’s a beautiful name.” He takes her hand and lifts it to his lips. Grimshaw blushes.

“That’s Serena.” She giggles, pointing at me. “I’m Melody.”

“Melody,” he says. He draws her to him and puts his other hand around her waist. “I’ll sing harmony.” He twirls her suddenly under his arm and then snaps her back to him. “We’ll dance.”

Rack rolls her eyes. “And this is Melody Grimshaw.”

“Oh!” Allen’s smile freezes. “So you’re a Grimshaw! Who knew?” He lets go of her and backs away. “Well, I gotta go, girls,” he says. He points at Rack. “Don’t wreck the house.” In a minute, he’s gone. Grimshaw’s hands stay in the air where he left them, still dancing, no partner. Then she sees me watching her and pretends she was just brushing the snow off her sweater.

Angel comes forward. “I like that idea, actually, getting dressed up for the dance. In the back of the bridal shop are all these dresses left over from people who, you know, changed their minds? Let’s get dressed up.”

“He shouldn’t be done milking this early.” Rack frowns a little as she stares after Allen’s car. “My father always says he cuts corners. Anyway, I don’t like how he treats the cows.”

nine

WE GO BY TERESA’S BRIDAL Shoppe before the dance. The back room is stuffed with the unused gowns of rejected brides and unemployed bridesmaids. Angel says that most of them get sold eventually, but there are some leftovers that have hung around for a long time, and we can have our pick of those. Grimshaw, who has her own little flask of whiskey underway, picks out a wedding gown with lace that looks like it will dissolve if you touch it. It takes the three of us to get her into it. The stark white against her light olive skin is dramatic.