cereal-and-sleep plan seemed like the most promising option. Until she realized she couldn’t stop thinking about the ruined wedding invitations. She had to come clean —the guilt was too much for her to bear. She knew the women were meeting tonight, though they’d made it clear it was just business and she didn’t need to attend. She glanced at the stack of coffee-stained envelopes protruding from her purse. What choice did she have? It wasn’t like she could fix this mistake.
Memories she’d pushed aside had come tumbling back at her as she drove to Gigi’s house —all those Volunteers meetings Grandma dragged her to, and for what? All they’d done was set her up for disappointment. It turned out those letters people sent professing their undying love for each other were only snapshots of the relationships they represented. Written in moments of nostalgia by people who were pining for what they’d lost or never had. That version of love was about as true as Shakespeare’s.
Fiction.
When Gigi answered the door, her eyes went wide. “Oh, hello, Abigail,” she said loudly and over her shoulder as if speaking to the others in the next room.
Abigail felt her whole face frown.
“So good of you to join us, dear. We didn’t want to overwhelm you right off the bat with all of our meetings, or else we would have asked you to come to this one.” Gigi peeled Abigail’s jacket off as she ushered her into the house, which smelled of peppermintand sugar cookies. “We didn’t expect you tonight, but we’re glad you’re here.”
Abigail forced a polite smile, but her mind screamed at her to dump the ruined invites on the floor and run for the hills.
As she and Gigi entered the living room, Ursula stuffed some papers into a manila folder and shoved it into her bag, and Abigail caught a glimpse of Tess hurrying into the kitchen. She returned seconds later.
Awkward glances crisscrossed around her, and Abigail had the distinct impression she’d interrupted something.
Her “I don’t have to stay” was met with a chorus of “Don’t be silly!” and “We love having you here!” and before she knew it, Abigail had been plopped down on the sofa in the circle of women, a mug of hot cocoa in one hand and two very crispy cookies in the other.
Now five pairs of eyes were fixed on her. Abigail set her mug down. “There’s something I need to tell you ladies.”
“We know, dear,” Doris said, smiling.
Abigail frowned. No, you don’t.
“Your mother told us.”
“Teensy?” How would her mother know about the coffee disaster?
“Doris!” Ursula’s warning shot silenced the other woman.
“Don’t listen to Doris, dear,” Gigi said. “She gets confused a lot these days.”
“I do not!” Doris set her own mug down. “I’m perfectly lucid 96 percent of the time.”
Ursula leaned closer to Abigail. “Take a sip of her cocoa and see how lucid she is.”
Abigail put her hands up in surrender. “I can’t do this.”
“Can’t do what, Abigail?” Tess moved to the edge of her armchair on the opposite side of the circle, the weight of her stare heavy on Abigail.
“I agreed to volunteer with you ladies because I couldn’t afford for you to boycott my shop, but none of that really matters anymore since I’ll be out of business in about a year anyway.” Abigail reached into her purse and pulled out the invitations. “Besides, I ruined these.” She stood, dropping the stack of envelopes on the coffee table at the center of the circle.
Tess gasped, picking up one of the coffee-stained invitations and turning it over in her hand. “Abigail, if you were upset, you didn’t have to take it out on this poor bride.”
Abigail sighed. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”
“Accidents happen. That’s no reason to quit.” Evelyn sank a little deeper into her chair.
Easy for her to say. She married a rich politician. She was probably only part of this group because she was bored.
Doris crossed
Memories she’d pushed aside had come tumbling back at her as she drove to Gigi’s house —all those Volunteers meetings Grandma dragged her to, and for what? All they’d done was set her up for disappointment. It turned out those letters people sent professing their undying love for each other were only snapshots of the relationships they represented. Written in moments of nostalgia by people who were pining for what they’d lost or never had. That version of love was about as true as Shakespeare’s.
Fiction.
When Gigi answered the door, her eyes went wide. “Oh, hello, Abigail,” she said loudly and over her shoulder as if speaking to the others in the next room.
Abigail felt her whole face frown.
“So good of you to join us, dear. We didn’t want to overwhelm you right off the bat with all of our meetings, or else we would have asked you to come to this one.” Gigi peeled Abigail’s jacket off as she ushered her into the house, which smelled of peppermintand sugar cookies. “We didn’t expect you tonight, but we’re glad you’re here.”
Abigail forced a polite smile, but her mind screamed at her to dump the ruined invites on the floor and run for the hills.
As she and Gigi entered the living room, Ursula stuffed some papers into a manila folder and shoved it into her bag, and Abigail caught a glimpse of Tess hurrying into the kitchen. She returned seconds later.
Awkward glances crisscrossed around her, and Abigail had the distinct impression she’d interrupted something.
Her “I don’t have to stay” was met with a chorus of “Don’t be silly!” and “We love having you here!” and before she knew it, Abigail had been plopped down on the sofa in the circle of women, a mug of hot cocoa in one hand and two very crispy cookies in the other.
Now five pairs of eyes were fixed on her. Abigail set her mug down. “There’s something I need to tell you ladies.”
“We know, dear,” Doris said, smiling.
Abigail frowned. No, you don’t.
“Your mother told us.”
“Teensy?” How would her mother know about the coffee disaster?
“Doris!” Ursula’s warning shot silenced the other woman.
“Don’t listen to Doris, dear,” Gigi said. “She gets confused a lot these days.”
“I do not!” Doris set her own mug down. “I’m perfectly lucid 96 percent of the time.”
Ursula leaned closer to Abigail. “Take a sip of her cocoa and see how lucid she is.”
Abigail put her hands up in surrender. “I can’t do this.”
“Can’t do what, Abigail?” Tess moved to the edge of her armchair on the opposite side of the circle, the weight of her stare heavy on Abigail.
“I agreed to volunteer with you ladies because I couldn’t afford for you to boycott my shop, but none of that really matters anymore since I’ll be out of business in about a year anyway.” Abigail reached into her purse and pulled out the invitations. “Besides, I ruined these.” She stood, dropping the stack of envelopes on the coffee table at the center of the circle.
Tess gasped, picking up one of the coffee-stained invitations and turning it over in her hand. “Abigail, if you were upset, you didn’t have to take it out on this poor bride.”
Abigail sighed. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”
“Accidents happen. That’s no reason to quit.” Evelyn sank a little deeper into her chair.
Easy for her to say. She married a rich politician. She was probably only part of this group because she was bored.
Doris crossed
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