Secrets of the Sisterhood (The Cinderella Society, Episode 1) (17 page)

We ended up talking music for so long I lost track of time. People still stopped by to request songs, and we all did the cake thing for Kyra (with much laughter over Ben’s serenade of “You Say It’s Your Birthday”). But other than that and a quick trip for non-frosty drinks, Ryan hung by the iPod for the rest of the party, until Mark came by to ask if he needed a ride home.

I looked up and realized the whole rec room had emptied out, save the band of Sisters cleaning up the snack bar area. And Lexy, tapping her foot impatiently by the stairs while Ryan talked to Mark. She glared at me and—after checking for Mrs. Gonzalez—snapped an
L
against her forehead.

Loser.

I looked at Ryan, then back at her, and realized her real beef was that the big brother she idolized was paying attention to her sworn enemy. The thought made me smile. I discreetly touched the tips of my thumbs together and flicked up my forefingers in response.

Whatever.

Ryan turned back to me, his keys dangling from his thumb. “I need to give my sister a ride home. See you around?”

“Probably.”

“Keep rockin’ John Mayer.”

“Always.” I smiled to hide my disappointment, thanks to Sarah Jane’s half lecture, half pep talk.

He nodded and turned to go, but only made it a few steps before he turned back. “Jess?”

“Yeah?” I said, a little too quickly and a lot too eagerly.

“We’re having a pool party at our house on Sunday. You coming?”

Was that an invitation? “Um, I don’t know.”

I wasn’t toying with him. I seriously didn’t know if it was kosher for me to go, since I was pretty sure Lexy would be there. But if Ryan wanted me there . . .

Ryan shrugged, and my excitement snuffed out like a candle in a tornado. “That’s cool,” he said.

He headed over to Lexy before I could clarify the situation. Lexy gave me a smirk, then plastered on a cheeky smile for her big brother. He let her go up the stairs first as I watched, my heart crushed by my stupid lack of response. Why was it that people like Kyra and Sarah Jane could simply say, “Yep, I’ll be there!” anytime a party was hosted, but I had to worry about being booted out on my butt?

Ryan started up the stairs after Lexy, but at the last second popped his head back around the corner and winked. At me. With a grin, he disappeared to follow his heinous excuse for a sibling.

A new bathing suit was definitely in my future.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Saturday was the launch of Nan’s new summer spice collection. My favorite was the Italian garden mix for making homemade salad dressing. Mom had planted tomatoes and cucumbers in the backyard in a burst of random domesticity. I couldn’t wait to make a fresh salad when she was ready to harvest them.

Or when I was ready to harvest them, since there was no way she’d be able to at that point in her pregnancy. Good intentions on Mom’s part? Yes. But not so good at thinking through the details. Unless that had been her secret plan the whole time.

Me Mom. Me plant tiny shoots of green. You Jess. You water, fertilize, kill tomato bugs, gather vegetables, do all hard work.

I stocked more orange blossom honey from a local beekeeper next to boxes of Nan’s peppermint and nettle tea bags, but could barely get the bottles on the table before arms were reaching in front of me to snap them up. Not in a scary Black-Friday-at-the-mall way. Mosaic didn’t attract that kind of pushy, out-for-blood crowd. But even with their sweet “Excuse my reach, honey” apologies, it was still a little disconcerting.

The good thing about days like these was that I was too busy trying to keep inventory on the shelves, help check people out at the counter, and generally be Nan’s go-to girl that I didn’t have time to dwell.

Today was definitely not a dwelling day. Not when I was battling a serious case of nerves about the Steeles’ pool party.

“Jessica, can you refill the fountains?” Nan asked as I bubble-wrapped the last of our hand-painted ceramic tea pots for a customer.

“You got it,” I said.

I nabbed the stainless steel water jug from the back room and started my fountain circuit. Water was constantly evaporating out of them, so you had to refill them all the time or they’d run dry and the motors would burn out.

Nan liked the soothing sound they made. It was part of the calming atmosphere, so she had one by the front door as a welcome and a couple up high out of the way. Never too close to the tea. Tea and water live in happy harmony, but tea leaves and too much humidity? Not such good buddies.

Even though I had to lug out the small step ladder, I didn’t mind being on fountain duty. I love water of all kinds. Maybe it’s because my favorite places we ever lived were Seattle and Cleveland (both by the shore), but gently moving water has always been really soothing for me.
 

At the moment, soothing was good, because in only nineteen hours and seventeen minutes, I’d see Ryan again. At his pool party. In a bathing suit.

Help.

I escorted a few customers to the blends they were looking for as I made my way around the store. I had just finished with the last of the fountains—rubbing my shoulder from the nerve pinch I’d gotten reaching up onto the top shelf—when Sarah Jane came to pick me up.

I needed a second opinion on a bathing suit before the pool party, and there was no one whose opinion I trusted more than hers. Paige and Gaby were meeting us in the atrium at the mall for a last-minute shopping excursion.

An hour later, the four of us were flipping through racks. I don’t know what kind of sadistic genius made bikinis so popular, but they were all I could find in my size. Teal, pink, tie dye, zebra stripes, rainbow prints . . . it was like an entire box of crayons threw up on tiny scraps of fabric attached to strings.

I settled on a couple of tankinis and matching ruffled swim skirts. Cute and fun, but leaving plenty to the imagination. My
Style Quiz
would be proud. I held them up for Sarah Jane’s opinion.

“I like!” she proclaimed.

I doubled checked the sizes and tried them on at lightning speed. If there’s anything worse than trying on bathing suits in a dressing room with unflattering florescent lights, I don’t know what it is.

When I came out of the dressing room, Sarah Jane was looking at cover-ups with Paige and Gaby to my right. I fumbled with one of the swim skirt hangers that had gotten tangled in a tankini strap. They wouldn’t budge, so I set them on the shelf display of sparkly tees to untangle the mess.

I spotted Heather looking despondently at sundresses along the far wall to my left. Not just Heather, but Morgan and Tina too. No wonder Heather was looking unhappy.

Facing Morgan and Tina was last on my list of fun things to do before the pool party, but Nichele’s face flashed through my mind. The way she’d looked at the spa with her cute, fresh manicure before Lexy handed her a cloak of shame to wear home.

I got Sarah Jane’s attention and motioned that I was going over to see Heather. I wove through the clothing displays to get to her before any more cloaks could be handed out.

“Isn’t that a little fancy for the trailer park?” I heard Tina ask as I got within earshot. She waved the pretty floral dress she’d taken from Heather in the air between them. “I thought you people made your clothes from curtains and that ducky tape stuff.”

“It’s not duck tape,” I corrected, coming to a stop next to Heather. “It’s
duct
tape.”

I snatched the dress from Tina and held it up in front of Heather’s navy shorts and daisy T-shirt, taking a second to look it over with my new fashion knowledge. “This really brings out the color of your eyes,” I told her.

Tina snorted.

“Sounds like you have a cold, Tina,” I said sweetly. “Do you need a tissue, honey?”

Tina crossed her arms and glared at me, then pinned Morgan with a stank-eyed look when Morgan snickered.
 

“Don’t you two have some shopping to do?” I asked them.
Or shoplifting,
I wanted to add. Rumor had it that was one of their favorite pastimes.

“Not here.” Tina rolled her eyes. “This place is going downhill fast.”

She turned on her heel and strode off, Morgan following three steps behind like always. If she wasn’t following the Lexy train, Morgan was on the tracks right behind Tina. Never the engine, always the caboose. I almost felt bad for Morgan.

Almost.

Once they were out of earshot, I turned back to Heather. She had taken the dress from my hands and hung it back on the rack, her shoulders lowered in defeat.

I pulled it back out and took another look. “What’s the occasion?”

“My one-year anniversary with Cameron. I wanted to look nice.” She said it wistfully, as if looking nice were beyond her means.

“I really like this one. Why don’t you go try it on?” I nudged.

She shook her head. Probably worried about Tina and Morgan returning to torment her. Or worse, returning with Lexy.

“I’ll stand guard outside the dressing room. It’ll be a troll-free zone.” I made a cross over my heart. “Promise.”

It took Heather a second to catch what I meant, and she gave a tiny laugh.

“That’s not it,” she said. “But thanks.”

“You don’t like it anymore?” Maybe because Tina had tainted it with her Wicked cooties.

Heather ran her hand over the silky fabric. “I love it, but it’s way too expensive.”

She scanned the rack with regret. “They all are. I don’t really have a dress budget. I just . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she dropped her hand from the fabric.

“Just wanted to look special,” I said. “Totally understandable.”

I love watching how God weaves things together. It was as if he were whispering right in my ear. Although in hindsight it seems kind of unlikely that he’d be whispering
Time for your first Power Shop Challenge
in the middle of Mason’s Department Store. Then again, he knew I’d been praying for a way to reach Heather, and he does work in mysterious ways.

“Do you trust me?” I asked her, unable to contain my grin.

Heather raised her eyebrows at me. Which looked decidedly like,
Um, did you not just see that little episode? I don’t trust anyone.

“Let me rephrase that,” I amended. “Would you trust me with a fashion ensemble?”

Heather looked at me doubtfully. “I barely have money for a dress much less an ensemble.”

I took her by the hand and deposited her on the bench outside the dressing room. “You underestimate the power of a good challenge.”

 
I’d seen the size of the dress she’d picked on the hanger, so I asked her to stay put for ten minutes and leave the rest to me. Which sounds like a simple request, but took more than a little convincing. Thankfully, her curiosity finally won out and she promised, agreeing to slip into a dressing room if our least favorite Mean Girls in Heels reappeared. I turned around, already plotting my PSC strategy and trying not to rub my hands with glee as I mentally reviewed the layout of the store.

And practically ran over Paige who was standing right behind me.

“Everything okay?” Paige asked. Sarah Jane and Gaby were watching curiously from the aisle.

“Peachy,” I said. “Just doing a little”—how much should I say?—“shopping for a friend.”

Paige glanced over at Gaby and Sarah Jane. I followed her eyes. SJ gave me one of her patented thumbs-up and Gaby grinned a little too wide.

I looked back at Paige, feeling like I was missing something. “Is . . . everything okay with
you?
”

“Never better, my friend,” Paige said, a smile spreading across her face. “Never been better.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Repeat after me: I will not stoop to her level.”

“I won’t, Sarah Jane. Trust me.”

Sarah Jane had been calming my fears on the drive over to the pool party. But now that we were rounding the bend to the Steeles’, I was starting to have a bad feeling. It might’ve been a bright, sunny day, but a cloud of doom was right over the horizon. A storm cell named Lexy.

SJ pulled in behind the long line of cars. “You can’t let her see she’s gotten to you either. She can sense fear like a cougar.”

“Comforting, thanks.” I pushed open the door and grabbed my beach bag. “I’m going to ignore her and stick with people I can trust. And be myself.”

SJ met me on the expanse of lush green grass standing between me and my future. “Spoken like a true Cindy,” she beamed.

We trekked across the grass, catching up to Gwen and Dale on their way to the wrought-iron fence. Mark was en route to his great grandma’s for her eightieth-birthday bash, so I had Sarah Jane all to myself for the day. Given the upcoming event on Lexy’s home turf—with Lexy there this time—I was grateful for the full-time support.

“Looking stylish, Jess. Trying to impress anyone we know?” Dale teased.
 

Gwen punched his offensive-tackle shoulder.
 

“Hey! I’m just saying someone might be looking forward to it is all.” He turned to me, rubbing his arm in mock injury. “Remind me never to date anyone stronger than me again.”