Oops, I've Fallen

And all of those memories star one specific person—Ryan.

Ever since I told Willow the whole story about us, he hasn’t left my mind.

Not for the rest of the flight or when we headed to baggage claim.

Especially not when we waited in that stupid taxi line because my sister is a rule-follower like him.

And definitely not now, as we’re driving past all the important places in my old stomping grounds.

God, I miss him.

And you need to see him. Talk to him. Figure this whole thing out.

It’s true. I do.

Which is why when the taxi turns onto my mom’s street, I inhale a deep breath and prepare myself to stop being a coward and face the Ryan music.

But when the cab driver pulls into my mom’s driveway and the front lights flash across the house and stop on the garage and front porch, I’m distracted by the vision of Stella standing on the entry sidewalk in a neon-pink jumpsuit with a rolling suitcase resting at her hip.

“What is she doing?” Willow asks, squinting her eyes like they have the power to make sense of the situation.

“I have no idea,” I respond, and just as those words leave my lips, Stella starts walking toward us.

She flings open the front passenger door and tosses her bag into the seat. Then, before we know it, she’s opening the back door on Willow’s side and getting in.

“Mom! What are you doing?” Willow asks, but Stella is undeterred, pushing her “Juicy”-covered ass toward us so much that we have no other choice but to scoot over.

“We gotta go!” she exclaims, sliding all the way inside and shutting the door.

“What?” I question, leaning over to look at her. “Go where?”

“Sal can’t see me before the wedding. It’s bad luck,” she explains and then fixates her attention on our driver. “Do you know where the Hilton is? The one that’s just a few miles up the road?”

“Sure do.” He nods, smiling at her in the rearview mirror.

“Perfect.” Stella smiles. “Hit the gas and take us there!”

Both Willow and I look at each other in confusion, but the decision has apparently already been made. Back out of her driveway and onto the main road, our cab driver follows our mother’s crazy demands.

And I can’t deny that a pit of disappointment starts to form a giant hole in my stomach when we speed past Sal’s house. A Yukon sits in the driveway, and I have a feeling it’s Ryan’s rental. He’s probably in there, with his dad, and I’m here, with my crazy fucking mom, heading toward the Hilton.

Damn it all to hell.

“Oh my goodness, girls!” Stella singsongs and pats each of our thighs. “I can’t believe my girls are here! And we get to have an all-night sleepover at the Hilton! Isn’t that great?”

“It’s a bit of a surprise,” Willow remarks. “But it’s definitely good to see you, Mom.”

“Can you believe I’m getting married tomorrow?”

“No.” Willow laughs. “Not at all.”

“Aw, you’re not still mad at me, are you, honey?”

“It’s fine, Mom,” Willow answers. “As long as you’re happy, then I’m happy.”

“I’m so happy,” our mom responds, her face matching her exuberant words. “Cloud nine, everything is perfect, kind of happy.”

“So…when are we going to go back to the house? In the morning, I guess?” I ask, and she glances at me over her shoulder.

“Oh, we’re not. We’re going straight from the hotel to the clubhouse for the wedding. I cannot risk Sal sneaking in to see me. And I just know how my Sally is. He’s horrible with waiting.”

“Wait…we’re not going back to the house at all before the wedding?” I ask again, and she nods.

“That’s the plan.”

Willow leans forward to look at me, and I don’t miss the way her eyes flash with sympathy. I know I didn’t tell her I’d planned on going over to see Ryan tonight, but I think she knew that’s where I’d end up.

But now, well, everything is back in limbo.

Before I know it, Stella is pulling her phone out of her purse and firing up her TikTok.

Screen toward the three of us, she taps record and starts grinning like a loon. “Ya girl Stella here with my two beautiful daughters! Aren’t they so pretty?”

Willow is about to shove her head out the window just to avoid being on camera, but I just kind of sit there and wave. Several weeks of this business and you just start to go with it.

“Tonight is my last night of being single! Can you believe I’m going to be a married woman?”

I’m half tempted to remind her of our late father and the fact that she’s ridden a bull in this marriage rodeo once before, but I choose to bite my tongue.

Pretty sure my irritation isn’t stemming from my mother’s happiness. Or the common wedding traditions she wants us to take part in, but more the fact that I had mentally pumped myself up for seeing Ryan again, for actually talking to Ryan, and then my mom turned my whole plan on its head.