Mine To Hold (Southern Wedding 2)

"Of course, I made biscuits," my mother says. "What kind of a savage do you think I am to make gravy without biscuits?" She stares at Clarabella as if she grew another head.

"I don't care what Clarabella and Shelby say about you, Mom," Presley mumbles and walks into the kitchen. "I think you're great." She stops by my mother and kisses her cheek. She is still wearing her silk dress from the wedding. Her hair looks like it's been yanked out on one side while the other side still has the hairpins in it.

My mother gasps and looks at both of us, who just shake our heads at her. "Don't listen to anything she says. She's still drunk." I point at Presley, who is filling up her plate.

"I am still drunk," she confirms to us all. "And I was trying to sleep off my stupor when I kept hearing clunk, clunk, clunk." She glares at me with one eye still closed. "How is anyone supposed to get some sleep around here?" I look at Clarabella, who just glares at her.

My mother just shakes her head, looking up at the ceiling. "She had sex." I point at Presley, and she just stares at me with her eyes big.

"I did not," she denies, shaking her head. "She wasn't supposed to wear white at her wedding." She points her fork at me, and I'm ready to fire back at her when Mom holds up her hands.

"Can we not do this?" She looks at the three of us. "My nerves are fried after yesterday."

"Oh, is it because you've had another child get left at the altar?" Clarabella asks in a soft voice, but she rolls her lips.

"I didn't get left at the altar,” I fire back, walking to get a plate. "I got there and walked down to it, and then I left."

"That doesn't make it better," Clarabella says, grabbing a piece of bacon and biting it.

"Can you not make fun of your sister?" My mother wrings her hands together now. "Look at her."

I look down at myself dressed in tights and a sweater, the bun at the top of my head falling down. "What's wrong with how I look?"

"You're still wearing your makeup from yesterday," my mother informs me between clenched teeth. "And I think you have a French fry in your hair." She points at the top of my head.

My hand comes up, and I feel it. "I fell asleep while I was eating fries." I touch my hair and pull it out. "I drank a lot of whiskey and sweet tea." I close my eyes when my stomach rises and then falls. "I'm never drinking whiskey again." I look at my sisters. "How did I get home?"

"Dragged you here," Clarabella says at the same time Presley says, "Unicorn."

I shake my head, sitting down and drinking the coffee black. When I walk out of the house, my mother gives me a huge hug. "Did you put on deodorant?" she asks, and I gasp. "I'm just checking, gosh."

I shake my head and get into the car, waving goodbye as we drive away. "Mom is right," Clarabella says from the driver's seat.

"I fucking put deodorant on as soon as I woke up," I huff at her, and she laughs.

"No, not that." She shakes her head. "I also wouldn't worry about you smelling like B.O. when you smell like you bathed in whiskey." I put my head back on the passenger seat and close my eyes. "Are you sure you want to go alone?" Clarabella asks, her voice going soft.

I turn my head and open my eyes, looking at her. "Someone has to stay and face the music." I smile at her. "I'll give it a couple of days, and if it gets to be too much, I'll come back early."

"Don't you dare," she warns when she pulls up to the airport. She gets out of the car. "You go and sit your ass down on that beach and have vacation sex." She opens the trunk and takes the luggage out and huffs when it lands on the ground. "Just don't bring home anything that causes you to itch."

"Oh, God." I roll my eyes and grab the handle of the luggage, moving it to the back seat and grabbing my big carry-on purse. "Thanks for the pep talk," I tell her, giving her a hug. "Call me if you need anything."

"See you next week," Clarabella says, walking to the car while I walk inside the airport and check in. I get to the gate and sit, looking out of the window at the plane waiting at the gate. The lights from the runway slowly fade as the sun starts to come up.

I cross my legs and watch the darkness fade into the light. I close my eyes for a second and picture myself walking down the aisle. I open my eyes, seeing the pink sky, wondering how different it would be if everything worked out. "Ladies and gentlemen, we will be boarding flight number seventeen forty-seven nonstop to Turks and Caicos."