By Tenley Lillegard
5:12 p.m. The Barn at Sterling Hills.
“Mom, your daughter’s a nutcase.”
Lori was only halfway finished with setting the tables when her youngest approached. She spared her a quick glance, noted that she’d chosen to pair a bright fuchsia lipstick with her buttermilk-colored bridesmaid dress, and returned to preening the faux rose centerpiece at table three. “Oh, honey you shouldn’t talk about yourself like that.”
“Not me. Casey!” She answered indignantly before leaning against the table. The uneven legs or the uneven wooden floor caused the table to shift slightly left.
“That’s great, Alex. Disparage your sister on her wedding day,” Lori chastised. She shooed Alex’s hand off the table and corrected the tilt.
“No seriously! We’re like in the hotel room getting ready and stuff, putting on these god-awful dresses.” Alex gestured to herself as Lori moved to another table, ignoring the slight. Alex followed. “Honestly, who chooses yellow for a bridesmaid dress? She obviously doesn’t want any of us to get an ounce of attention.”
“Uh huh.” Lori answered. She spotted some of Tim’s groomsmen walking by. “Psst! Here.” She passed them the box filled with centerpieces. “The nameplates are already on the tables; all that needs doing is the centerpieces. Can you do that?” The young men were surprised by her boldness, but her tone was just motherly enough to make them comply without question. “Good. And straighten your ties!”
“And she straight up screams!” Alex continued, taking a bite of one of the crudites from the banquet table. Lori swiftly replaced it with another from the nearby catch-all table which had extra food, utensils, napkins, and every other supply needed for a wedding. Lori was not a wedding planner, but she was an adept host. “And here I’m thinking it’s a mouse or something cause, you know, barn wedding and all.”
“Mmm barn wedding.” She grabbed an extra napkin from the catch-all table and handed it to her daughter, motioning to the fuchsia lipstick. “Blot.”
Alex took the napkin and did a quick blot. “And I’m like, ‘Casey what the hell are you screaming for? You about gave everyone a heart attack.’ ” Lori pushed Alex’s lowering hand back up toward her mouth which got her an eye roll, but also another blot. “And she’s like, ‘I don’t have something new.’ She says that she’s supposed to wear something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue.” Lori took the discarded napkin and stuffed it in her purse, making a mental note to add it to the laundry later. “And she’s got Tim’s mom’s dress, borrowed your necklace, and she has that sapphire ring, but nothing new.”
“Huh.” Lori was now walking toward the door from the barn to the old stables which were converted into a carriage house and repurposed as dressing rooms for bridal parties.
“So I try to give her my lipstick to wear cause it would be new to her and she’s like, ‘That would be something borrowed, not something new. It wouldn’t count.’ And I’m like, what are there some wedding gods keeping an eye on all weddings and screwing with the brides who don’t wear something brand new?’ ”
“Wedding gods, ha yeah.” Lori was walking up the spiral staircase to the carriage house now.
“But you know Casey once she gets her mind on something. She, like, can’t unthink it ya know?” Lori opened the door to the bridal suite and found it completely empty.
“Where on Earth is your sister?”
“Mom, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. She went to CVS to get some new lipstick.”
“In her wedding gown?”
* * *
5:12 p.m. CVS.
The makeup aisle in CVS was like a Warhol painting with all the color and none of the artistry. Casey swore they must have had every shade of lipstick known to man, or rather, wo-man.
She ran her finger along the shelves, taking note of the odd names like “Frosted Peony,” “Hello Merlot!,” and “Scorpio Rising” which was apparently a sort of bright purple.
Which one did she want?
Tim would like red. Red was his favorite color on her—he thought it was sexy like one of those femme fatales in the old detective movies he liked so much.
Tim’s mom, on the other hand, would say red was tacky. She’d say she preferred a more natural look—just the slightest bit of blush on the lips. At least that’s what she’d say she wanted. But every time Casey had been to Tim’s parents’ house sans makeup, Carol offered her a coffee and told her she “looked tired.”
Alex would probably recommend the Scorpio Rising color in order to stand out, but Casey wasn’t one for the spotlight and nothing gave someone a spotlight more than being the bride at a wedding.
Feeling overwhelmed with choices, she decided to close her eyes, run her hands over the lipsticks, and stop when something in her told her to do so.
No. No. Yes.
She opened her eyes to find her finger hovering over a light orangey-red color. Merry-gold.
Yeah, she thought. Yeah, that seems like me.
* * *
5:13 p.m. The Barn at Sterling Hills.
“Maybe she’s having trouble with the dress. I was a size or two smaller than her at my own wedding. Isn’t that right, Jerry?” Carol stated. She stood hovering over her son as the groom’s party readied themselves for pictures.
“Huh? Oh, yeah maybe.” His father responded absentmindedly. If Tim had noticed the slight against his bride’s weight, he hadn’t said anything.
Carol rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why I even try. Your father can barely remember our anniversary, let alone how I looked at our wedding.” Carol cupped Tim’s face in her hands. “Oh, my baby boy! You look so handsome.”
Tim rolled his eyes, although it was clear he liked the compliment. “Thanks, Mom.”
Carol smiled then looked around the room. This wiped the smile off her face almost immediately, replacing it with a judgmental pursing of her lips. “A barn certainly wouldn’t have been my choice for a wedding venue, but this fits Casey’s taste. Very homely. Understated.”
Tim nodded and pulled out his phone to check his fantasy football league stats.
“You’d better start trying for a baby soon, too. Casey’s not getting any younger and I want to meet my grandbaby before I’m too old to help raise him.”
He made a small, placating grunt. Casey didn’t want kids. But Tim figured she’d change her mind eventually.
* * *
6:21 p.m. Somewhere Off Interstate 50.
Casey didn’t really know how she’d ended up at the diner. She was driving, sun setting behind her as she applied her new lipstick in the rearview mirror. She watched as the exit to the barn approached, and then as it passed.
She hadn’t turned.
She’d made up her mind to take the next exit, but she’d missed that one as well and the one after that too. And then she was at this diner in the middle of nowhere, sat in a 50s-style booth made of sparkly red leather.
I need to make a decision, she’d told herself. Either I get up and I leave and I go to the wedding and I marry Tim, or I stay and I order something and I.…
She didn’t know how to finish that last thought. What would she do if not marry Tim? He was a good man, and she loved him. Didn’t she? Life with him would be stable, safe, predictable, secure. She would always know what to expect. But would it be happy?
A waiter approached Casey’s booth, and she hardly noticed the bewilderment that crossed his face when he clocked the wedding dress.
“Do you want some coffee to start out?” He asked.
She chuckled at first, then a little louder, until it turned into a fit of laughter and tears—a cacophony of excitement and sadness and understanding and trepidation and hope and … something new.
“I do.”
Author Bio
Tenley Lillegard is a writer of young adult science fiction and fantasy, crafting stories filled with heart, adventure, and characters that linger in the mind long after the final page. She believes that the best stories make readers feel deeply, and she strives to create worlds that inspire, challenge, and captivate her audience.
She currently lives in a small apartment in Sacramento, California, with her two cats, who provide equal parts distraction and inspiration in her quest to write and publish her first novel. She dreams of one day living in a castle in Scotland, where she’ll be surrounded by misty hills, a thriving vegetable garden, a flock of chickens, her husband Harry Styles (naturally), and her trusty feline companions.
When she’s not writing, she can usually be found reading, daydreaming about magical worlds, travelling, spending time with her motley array of friends and family, or searching the Sacramento café scene for the perfect cup of coffee. You can find her on Instagram @tenleylilypad.
