Andie’s stomach let out a loud, wild-animal growl. She wrapped her arms around her sides and walked down the hallway, toward the mahogany staircase. She could add “missed dinner” to her list of how this day went horribly wrong, right under “rejected by Ayana Bennington,” “betrayed by stepsister,” and “helped ruin father’s wedding.”
She stopped at the top of the stairs and stood listening to her father’s muffled voice in the study. She tiptoed toward the door and pushed it open a crack. Winston was pacing back and forth across the room, clutching the cordless phone.
“No, it’s the kids,” he said, holding the back of his neck in his hand. “We’ve decided to postpone the wedding…indefinitely.” Winston paused. “Yes, I understand. Thanks, Gloria.” He set the phone down on the rolltop desk. It was dark outside and he was still in his suit for the rehearsal dinner, except now his crisp blue shirt was unbuttoned, and he was walking around in his black dress socks. He caught a glimpse of Andie’s reflection in the window and turned around, his face drawn, his eyes red and wet.
Andie grabbed the bottom of her T-shirt, suddenly nervous. “Daddy?” she asked, her voice trembling. Winston coughed and rubbed his face with both hands. She hadn’t seen her father cry since her mom died.
“Yes?” Winston muttered, not looking Andie in the eye. Before he could say anything else, Andie ran toward him and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. She rested her cheek against his chest and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. She couldn’t stand seeing her father sad. She wished she could rewind the whole night—the whole week, even—and just start over.
“Dad, I—” She sniffed back her tears. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin the wedding.”
Winston rubbed Andie’s back. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I was just—” His voice sounded like it might crack. He coughed loudly and rested his hands on Andie’s shoulders. “I was just so excited about Emma, and you girls seemed like you were getting along so well. I got carried away and rushed everything. I never should have pushed you girls—you weren’t ready for this.” He kissed Andie twice on the top of her head.
“I was fine, Dad, really,” Andie whispered.
“We’ve all had a long day,” he said, starting for the door. “Let’s talk more about this tomorrow.” And with that, he rubbed Andie’s cheek and walked out of the study.
Andie sat at the cherrywood table and stared down at the snack she’d made for herself—blue cheese with baby carrots and celery. The food suddenly looked unappetizing, like seagull-poop crudités. She walked over to the garbage and emptied the plate into the bin.
In the recycling box, sitting on top of a stack of salmon pink Financial Timeses, was an unopened card addressed to Emma and Winston. Andie picked up the beige envelope and held it in her hands. As she ripped it open, a photo of Winston and Emma tumbled out. Winston had his hand on Emma’s back and was leaning in close to her, smiling, as though he were telling her the most amazing secret.
It was from their uncle Paul, who had just broken his leg in a motorcycle accident on the Pacific Coast Highway. Dear Winston and Emma, it read. If only I had used my turn signal, I could be telling you this in person! Congratulations on the wedding. Emma—thank you for making my brother so incredibly happy.
Andie set the card down on the counter, unable to read another word. Her stomach lurched as she imagined sitting in the den tomorrow, sprawled out on the couch watching The Hills, when her dad and Emma should have been getting married.
Just then Lola walked into the kitchen in her Harry Potter pajamas. When she saw Andie she yanked open the refrigerator door.
Andie could hear the plastic drawers opening and closing. “Lola—look at this,” Andie said slowly, holding out the wedding card to the back of the fridge door.
Lola slammed it shut. “I can’t believe you’re trying to talk to me!” she said, her eyes welling with tears. “You practically snogged Kyle right there in the foyer.” She still had her headband on, but her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her eyes were swollen. “I really fancied him,” she said again, her voice cracking.
Andie turned the card over in her hands, not wanting to look Lola in the eye. She hadn’t felt so guilty since she’d spit in Cate’s Clinique eye cream, payback for Cate telling the entire sixth grade Andie was adopted. Sure Cate had deserved it, but Andie hadn’t wanted her to get pinkeye or anything.
Andie tugged the blond highlight in her bangs. “I’m sorry,” she muttered. “But I really don’t like Kyle—I swear.”
Lola hugged a jar of gherkins to her chest. “You don’t?” she asked.
“No!” Andie cried. “I barely know him! I was just mad about what happened at Ford.”
“That agent only liked me because of my mum!” Lola said, her nose twitching. “She’s already sent me two e-mails asking for Mum’s mobile number. Look at me—I’m not a bloody model.” Lola pointed at her bare toes, which pointed inward like they were kissing each other. “I’m bowlegged! And my ears stick out like Dumbo.” She lifted up one side of her headband so Andie could see.
Andie looked at Lola’s big ears and couldn’t help but laugh. “No, Lola, I think Ayana really did like you. You should do the test shots. What do you have to lose?” Andie shrugged, deciding then and there that she was over the Ford snub. Yeah, Ayana Bennington was a famous agent, but she wasn’t the only one out there. Andie had already gone to the yellow pages online and found three listings—all looking for tween models. After all, your first agency rejection was a rite of passage. Tyra, Kate, even Twiggy all had to face adversity before they got their big breaks.
Andie grabbed the picture of Winston and Emma. “My dad was calling Gloria in the study and he was…” Her voice trembled. “Really upset—really, really upset.”
“My mum was crying before, in the den.” Lola took the picture from Andie’s hand and studied it. Then she pressed her hands into her cheeks. “We can fix things,” she suddenly cried. “We have to!”
“Yeah…” Andie agreed. “But how?” It was over. The damage was done.
Lola clapped her hands. “They want to get married. We just need to prove we want them to.” Her green eyes were wide. “I have an idea.”