the kitchen stool set up in front of the sink, surveying the counter and what looks like every styling product known to woman.
“So how are you really?” Jack asks, running his hands through my hair. I close my eyes and savor the feeling of his fingers massaging my scalp.
“Better now.”
“I’m serious.”
I open my left eye and see Jack’s reflection staring back at me, his forehead wrinkled in concern. “I don’t want to be sad today.”
“Fair enough.” He puts a smile back on his face and squeezes my shoulder before reaching for a bottle of something that comes out white and foamy.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what I was thinking about for my hair?” I ask, playing coy.
Jack’s fingers don’t stop moving. “If you want.”
“Would it make a difference if I told you?”
“Boo, please.”
I turn to give him a look, but his hands are instantly on both sides of my face, moving my head back in position. I smile and try to keep still so Jack can do his best to transform me into a bride on what’s supposed to be the happiest day of her life.
Chapter Forty-Six
CeCe
Usually, it would bum me out that Dad is inside sleeping in the middle of the afternoon, but I know he could use the rest so he’ll be able to enjoy tonight. Plus, since he’s asleep and I know there’s no chance Mom will be coming home, I can sit outside and read The Art of Acting out in the open.
I feel like a boy sneaking a peek at dirty magazines every time I read it. I know there’s nothing to be ashamed of, it’s just not worth their questions. And as long as they don’t know that Monica and I are talking, they can’t tell me to stop. And if I stop, she won’t be able to invite me to come out to L.A. to live with her. She was this close to doing it the other day, I could feel it.
She didn’t correct the craft services lady when she called me her daughter, and she was telling me about how lonely it was in her apartment, and that she didn’t have any guests to use her guest bedroom.
I sigh and open up the book to where I left off with the chapter “Instant and Inner Justifications” when a Yellow Cab pulls into the driveway. I close the book and set it beside me. We aren’t expecting anyone.
The cab’s back door opens and I see a flash of hot pink in the backseat.
“Aunt Becky!” I scream so loud I probably woke Dad, which I totally didn’t mean to do. But Aunt Becky!
“Baby cakes!”
I run into her open arms so hard that she stumbles back against the cab. “What are you doing here?” My eyes start to water even though I’m the opposite of sad.
“You don’t know?” Becky asks. “Shit.”
“I don’t know what?” She can’t know about the wedding. Mom would have told me if Becky was coming.
“Your dad is planning a little surprise for your mom.”
Behind us, the front door opens and Dad stands there, leaning against the doorframe, his oxygen tank beside him. “Our first wedding guest has arrived.”
“You know?” I ask Dad. I don’t understand what’s happening.
“So you do know?” Becky asks before dragging her suitcase toward the house. If she’s surprised to see how bad Dad looks, she doesn’t let it show. “Hello, groom.”
“Hey, Becks.” Dad gives her a quick kiss on the cheek.
“I am so confused,” I say, still standing in the driveway.
“Come on, sweet girl,” Becky says.
I sigh and run up the stairs to join them inside to see if I can figure out what in the world is going on.
“Ceese, why don’t you go and get our guest a glass of your fancy Arnold Palmers,” Dad says. “And one for your old man.”
I nod and walk into the kitchen, still trying to make sense of everything.
When I get back to the living room, Dad and Becky are both sitting on the couch. There’s no room for me, so I climb onto Dad’s bed. Aunt Becky gives me a smile, but her eyes are glassy and I can tell it’s hard for her to see Dad like this, even though she’s doing a pretty good job of pretending.
“Now someone talk,” I demand.
“Your aunt Jill let it slip about the plan,” Dad says. “Maybe on purpose. Or maybe because she’s never been good at keeping secrets.”