Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 89142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Jackson asks the server to bring a bottle of champagne.
And I can’t take it anymore. I stand. “Excuse me. I have to go.”
“Frankie,” Mandy says. “We’re going to toast. I want you here.”
I’m not the petulant type. I never have been. There’ve been times when Mandy and I didn’t get along, and I know she’s been envious of me, but I’ve never felt that way toward her.
Right now, though? I do envy her. I hate the feeling, but I do. Not only is she stealing my wedding thunder, but she’s doing it with the proverbial perfect man, and she’s doing it on the night I was supposed to get married. So yeah, I’m feeling a little cantankerous.
I scrunch my napkin in my fist and throw it on top of the table. “No, thank you.”
“Frankie!” Mom admonishes.
I meet my mother’s gaze, so like my own. “You really don’t remember, do you?”
“Remember what, Frankie?”
Mandy gasps. “Oh my God, Frankie. I’m so sorry. We weren’t thinking.”
“No, you were thinking. Just not about—” I shake my head.
I want to cry, make them see how upset I am.
But the tears don’t come.
Because I know I’m better off not being Mrs. Pendleton Berry. We were on-again, off-again so many times, and in the end, nothing would have worked between us.
But still, they could’ve thought about the date.
“Please, don’t go,” Mandy says. “We’ll… We’ll cancel the champagne. Right, Jack?”
“Why, Mandy Cake?” Jack asks and then darts his gaze to me. “What’s going on?”
Mandy hates that pet name, but now she seems to take it in stride. “Because today is the day Frankie was supposed to marry Penn, remember?”
Jackson, my mother, and my father all drop their jaws in unison, one right after the other. It’s almost comical.
Great. Here come the looks of sympathy. The looks of pity.
“Frankie,” Mom says. “Oh my gosh. How could we have been so obtuse?”
“I don’t know,” I say, and yes, I say it petulantly.
I’m twenty-seven years old, but at the moment I feel like I’m five and my sister stole my lunch box.
I’m being ridiculous. Childish.
Mandy deserves happiness, and she’ll have it with Jackson. I have no doubt. She will be happier with Jack than I could’ve ever been with Penn.
But still…
It hurts. It freaking hurts. Not so much the breakup with Penn, but the fact that not one of them thought about today’s date.
“Please sit down,” Dad says. “We haven’t ordered yet, and you must be hungry. We’ll make this up to you, Frankie.”
“How do you think you’re going to do that? Do you think I’m not going to remember that you guys all forgot what date this was? You think you can wipe my memory clean? You think you can—”
“Please.” Mom gives me a sympathetic smile. “Just sit. No one is going to try to make you forget. God knows we couldn’t do that.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” And yes, I’m petulant again. “I feel like I’m Samantha Baker in that old movie you used to make us watch when we were kids. Sixteen Candles. You know, when the whole family forgot her birthday?”
“We’ve never forgotten your birthday,” Dad says.
True, they haven’t. I sigh. “I know that, Dad.”
“To be honest,” Mandy says, “we thought you were okay. You didn’t seem that upset after you and Penn broke up. You seemed kind of…relieved.”
I won’t give her the satisfaction of telling her she’s right. In the back of my mind, I knew Pendleton Berry wasn’t my forever. But I put so much into him. We were on-again, off-again for over five years, which should’ve been my first clue.
I draw in a breath, count to ten.
I don’t like feeling petulant. And my sister does deserve a moment to shine. Even if it’s on the day I was supposed to become Mrs. Pendleton Berry.
“Congratulations, both of you.” I don’t take my seat. “But honestly, I’m just not feeling up to this. I’m happy for you, truly. But I think I’m going to go.”
“Frankie…” Mom is using her I’m your mother voice.
She is still my mother, but I no longer live at home. I haven’t for the last five years, and I don’t need to do what my mommy says just because she says it.
“I’m sorry, but I’m leaving.”
“We have to talk,” Mandy says. “About wedding stuff. About maid-of-honor stuff.”
“We’ll have plenty of time to do that. I’d rather not do it tonight, if it’s all the same to you.”
Mandy nods, and I can see in her gray eyes that she understands and she’s very sorry.
I will forgive her. I always do. We’ve had knock-down drag-outs that were way worse than this, and we’ve always forgiven each other.
But tonight I can’t be here.
“Okay,” Mandy relents. “And again, Frankie, I’m so—”
I hold up a hand to stop her. I can’t take any more of the pitying looks. “I know you’re sorry. Please let that be the last time you say it.” I grab my purse hanging over my chair, and with as much dignity as I can, I walk away from the table and out of the restaurant.