Lucy B.
PARKER
For Better or For Worse
“But how are you going to plan a whole wedding in a month?” Laurel asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “The women on all those reality shows about weddings take like a year to plan theirs.”
“Not to mention they have a lot of meltdowns and scream at people,” Laurel added.
Mom shrugged. “There’s really nothing to plan. It’s just going to be the six of us—well, seven, including Ziggy. Very low-key. I mean, it’s not like I’m really the wedding type.” That was true. Mom was so laid-back that sometimes as a joke, Alan would grab her wrist and hold it and say he was feeling for a pulse. “Other than the fact that after I’m going to have to start checking the ‘married’ box again on questionnaires, it’s just going to be like any other day.”
I looked at Laurel and put my arm around her shoulder. “Except that’ll be the day that Laurel and I become official fristers.”
She smiled as she put her arm around mine.
Which, as far as I was concerned, would be the most awesome day of my life.