Chapter3

A week before the wedding, the lace on Brooke's train came apart.

One lace petal had come loose and fallen away, leaving behind a field of tiny needle holes.

Mom was so upset her eyes went red.

"Mrs. Caldwell is coming to see the dress tomorrow. What am I supposed to do?"

She had stayed up more nights than anyone could count working on that dress, and it had ruined her eyes.

The room went quiet. Then everyone turned to look at me at the same time.

Mom pushed the dress toward me.

"Claire, you're the best seamstress in this house. Fix your sister's train tonight."

I said no. Tomorrow morning, Daniel and I were going to the courthouse for our marriage license.

Tyler's brows shot together.

"You can get a marriage license any day of the week. If Mrs. Caldwell sees a dress falling apart, how is Brooke supposed to show her face in that family?"

"So my wedding doesn't matter?"

Dad's face went hard.

"It's one day. Why make a federal case out of it? Why does everything have to be a competition with your sister?"

Mom took my hand.

"Claire, just this once. Once Brooke's married and everything goes smoothly, I'll make it up to you. I promise."

I had heard that line my whole life.

When we were little and there was only one slice of birthday cake left, she said Brooke wasn't feeling well, so I should let her have it.

When Brooke wanted to go to private school, Mom sold the pearl necklace Grandma left me. She said she'd buy it back someday.

When Brooke got engaged, Mom took the money I'd saved from my part-time jobs and bought Brooke jewelry. And she said, again, that she'd pay me back someday.

Someday never came.

I pulled my hand away.

"I'm not fixing it."

Mom froze. Tears welled up in Brooke's eyes right on cue.

"You're still mad at me for using Grandma's lace, aren't you? If you really don't want to, fine. I'll go meet his family in a torn dress. If they look down on me, I guess I deserve it."

Tyler pulled her behind him and glared at me.

"Mom ruined her eyes sewing for the two of you, and now she asks you for one little favor and you've got a hundred excuses. Claire, do you have a heart at all?"

I almost laughed.

Mom ruined her eyes so Brooke could be the most beautiful bride in the room.

I didn't even have a decent dress, and I was still supposed to get down on my knees and be grateful.

I turned to leave. Behind me, someone cried out.

Mom was gripping the edge of the table, white as a sheet, and she collapsed into Brooke's arms.

Dad rushed over to catch her. Then he turned around and slapped me across the face.

"Are you happy now? You want to put your mother in the hospital?"

My cheek was on fire.

Mom leaned on Brooke's shoulder and cried.

"Just let it go. Don't push her. If she doesn't care about me, I'm not going to blame her."

Tyler helped Mom to her bedroom. On his way past me, he lowered his voice.

"Claire, I know this isn't fair to you. But if something actually happens to Mom, you're never going to forgive yourself. It's one night. Fix it, and then you can go wherever you want. First thing tomorrow morning, I'll drive you to the courthouse myself."

He sounded so sincere. Like he really was looking out for me.

From upstairs, I could hear Mom sobbing into her pillow.

I stood there for a long time. In the end, I picked up my phone and texted Daniel.

I might be a little late tomorrow morning. Wait for me.

Then I carried the dress into the sewing room.

The lamp stayed on all night.

I sewed the loose lace petal back in place, one stitch at a time.

Sometime after midnight, the needle went into my fingertip. A drop of blood fell onto the white satin. All I could do was wipe it off and keep going.

Just before dawn, the train finally looked like new.

Brooke put on the dress and twirled twice in front of the mirror.

"Nobody does it better than Claire."

Nobody asked if my hands hurt. Tyler's bedroom door stayed shut. The person who'd promised to drive me had already forgotten all about it.

By the time I drove myself to the courthouse, the time Daniel and I had agreed on was long gone. But he was still standing at the bottom of the steps.

The morning fog had soaked through his shirt, and there were tiny drops of water in his hair.

"I'm sorry."

I couldn't look at him.

He didn't get mad. He just took out a clean handkerchief and wrapped it around my fingers, which were still bleeding.

"Your sister again?"

I didn't say anything.

Daniel tied off the handkerchief. His voice was quiet.

"Claire, walking away from a place that only hurts you isn't betrayal. It's survival."

When I got home, Mrs. Caldwell was already there, looking over the dress.

She ran her fingers along the train and nodded, satisfied.

"It's absolutely beautiful work. You must have put so much into this."

Mom smiled. "For Brooke? It was the least I could do."

Brooke slipped her arm through Mrs. Caldwell's.

"My mom made this whole dress herself, start to finish. She never let anyone else touch a single stitch."

I stood just outside the door, staring down at ten fingers wrapped in Band-Aids.

So even my work was theirs to take credit for. Just like that.

On her way out, Mrs. Caldwell noticed the off-the-rack dress hanging in the corner.

"Oh, is that for one of the bridesmaids?"

The room went silent. Mom's face stiffened, and she changed the subject.

The second the Caldwells were out the door, Dad hurled his coffee mug at my feet.

"You left that rag hanging there on purpose, didn't you? You wanted the Caldwells to laugh at us?"

A shard of ceramic sliced the hem of my skirt.

Mom's eyes were red too.

"I already told you I'd make it up to you. Why do you keep going after your sister?"

I looked at their angry faces, and suddenly explaining felt completely pointless.

When people don't love you, everything you say sounds like an excuse.