Callie stared at her mom for a second, soaking in this new information. “Why did you never tell me that? I feel like that’s something that would’ve come up at some point in all these years.”
Lynn sighed and looked out the small square window. “I guess I never wanted you girls to know that it’s possible for dreams to not come true.”
Callie’s heart sank. “Did you ever give it a try—to be a professional writer?”
“My parents were so dirt poor, you know that, right?” Lynn had always talked about how she and her five brothers and sisters only got handmade clothes for Christmas and would sometimes have camping nights in the backyard—an activity their parents pretended was for fun, but was really just to distract the kids when the power went out after they hadn’t paid the electricity bill on time. “They made me get a job as soon as I was able, so I started picking up shifts at the diner when I was sixteen… and, well, here I am today.” She smiled.
Callie was quiet for a long moment. She couldn’t believe she never knew about this part of her mother’s life.
“I’m shocked,” Callie said.
Lynn leaned back on the bed and put her head against the wall. “Well, I’m telling you this now because that’s why I can’t just quit now that you girls have set us up for retirement. Even if it wasn’t my dream when I started it, my job is my whole life!”
Callie nodded her head. She understood what her mom was saying.
“A girl’s gotta have a reason to wake up in the morning,” Lynn added, patting Callie on the knee. She stood up and headed toward the door, looking back at her daughter. “Dinner’s almost ready. Come ’n’ get it.” And then she was gone.
Callie took a deep breath and thought about what her mom had just said. She knew the feeling of needing to go to work, of having to have meaning each day. That’s why she’d never quit working, no matter how much money she had in her bank account.
Something else her mom had said left her unsettled, though. Callie was lucky she got to write for a living. At least one of them was fulfilling their dream. But would the Herald one day be her own version of her mom’s diner? Her first and only job? A job she’d get so comfortable working at, she’d never leave?
As she emailed the final version of her story to Jerry and headed to the kitchen for family dinner, Callie wondered if they might be alike in more ways than one.
CHAPTER 17 Lexi
After dinner with the family on Sunday night, Lexi and Seth checked into their new Airbnb rental. It was a charming two-bedroom, three-bathroom loft apartment downtown on Main Street, which had both a tranquil brick courtyard and ornamental iron balcony stretching the width of the second floor. The space was advertised as “Bourbon-Street Beauty in Brady,” and Lexi felt like she was still in the Big Easy when she walked in. It was furnished with antique French pieces, while elegant Mardi Gras masks hung on the wall, and a sparkly chandelier dangled from the wood-beamed ceiling. A vast improvement from their run-down shotgun house on the other side of town.
“So, are we gonna talk about this twenty-thousand-dollar wedding dress, or…?” Seth said as they unpacked their bags in the bedroom.
“It’s gorgeous—I can’t wait for you to see it!” She tried to sound excited and casual, even though deep down she could sense Seth’s worry.
“Isn’t it getting a little out of hand?” he said as he threw his boxers into the cherrywood double dresser, the smell of cedar from the open drawer wafting through the room. “And this guy, Martin… That show of his was crazy.” Seth looked up with fear in his eyes. “You’re not going to be like that bride on his show, are you?” His voice actually sounded concerned.
She knew she shouldn’t have made Seth watch the clip earlier that night. “Oh, please.” Lexi chuckled. “That was all just a stunt for the reality show. Besides, you know I’m not capable of being a bridezilla.”
“A what-a?” he asked innocently.
“A bridezilla.” She emphasized the word. “You, know, like a bride monster?”
“Never heard that before.”
“Wait—really?” Had her fiancé been living under a rock? She thought everyone knew that term. Hell, half the wedding shows she watched had that in the title.
Seth stood up. “Okay, well, don’t become a bridezilla. I love you.” He kissed her forehead. “What time are you up tomorrow? It’s grooming day, right?”
Lexi grimaced. “Had to cancel because Martin is coming first thing.” She felt guilty when she texted Sheila, the woman who ran the dog shelter, that she couldn’t make her weekly appointment in the morning. What she didn’t mention to Seth was that she’d also canceled her next four weeks of visits. This wedding was turning into another full-time job.
“Oh. Okay.” Seth paused. “I’m going to bed.”
“Love you!” Lexi yelled.
She went downstairs to the living room and snuggled into the couch with a tired Archie. On the TV, she decided to finish the episode of Southern Wedding Belles she had shown her family earlier that day. Martin had succumbed to his bride’s demand for the pink dress and was now airbrushing the bottom of it.
At first the pink hue looked like the color of blood. “Oh dear, the bride’s gonna look like she just committed murder,” Martin said. Lexi tilted her head in a laugh. He was hilarious. In the end, he and his assistant managed to get the color just right and somehow the “pink-dipped” dress looked gorgeous. He was a wedding-planning genius, Lexi thought as her eyelids started to droop. How did she get so lucky as to work with him?
* * *
“Okay, my little impulsive bride, let’s start planning!” Martin Castleberry was sitting on the couch pulling out binders from his leather tote. His voice was as loud as his outfit—lime green chinos, a royal blue blazer, and a purple bow tie. Dixie, his assistant, was setting up an easel in front of the coffee table.
Lexi nibbled on one of the pastries Nancy had brought over that morning. She was disappointed her mom couldn’t make it to the meeting, too, but she had to work. So much for early retirement. Her mom promised to come over later that night to go over the details. But right now, it was just Lexi, Nancy, Dixie, and Martin—and three out of four weren’t eating any pastries. Lexi bit eagerly into a pecan Danish. She was never one to pass up free food.
Lexi couldn’t help but notice that Nancy was staring at Martin with a skeptical expression. She sent up a silent prayer that this all wasn’t a huge mistake.
She grabbed her notebook off the art deco coffee table and opened it up to her checklist. “Okay, so we’ve already taken care of the venue, dress, and invitations. We still need…” She looked up from her book. “Everything else.” She could feel that overwhelmed feeling bubbling up in her chest again.
Martin bounced up from the couch and walked over to the easel. He grabbed a thick black marker and started drawing some lines on the oversized sketch pad.
“Ooh, are we going to play Pictionary?” Lexi asked, petting Archie, whose head was resting in her lap.