Justice(56)

I should call and cancel the fitting. I am in no way ready for human contact, but the only other option is to spend all day alone in here brooding, which will probably lead to more drinking. I finish the paper and get my lazy butt up.

Blue jeans, black shirt, and boots are my weekend attire and my new jacket matches perfectly. I grab a piece of dry toast and change purses. When I grab my wallet from the counter, I notice the light blinking on my answering machine. Please God, let it be from Rebecca cancelling.

“Jo, it’s Harry,” my ex says over the machine. “I know you’re still there because you just left a message on my machine. God, I hope you get this. I know it’s short notice, but I can’t make it tonight. I’m actually running out the door right now. The Commissioner just called. I have to meet with him, the DA, and some Marshal. They’re talking about taking the case from us. I am so sorry. I’ll call you when I get a chance, okay? Have fun.”

Immediately, I grab my cell phone and turn it back on. I shut it off because I kept checking it every three minutes. One message. “Hey, it’s Harry,” he says, concerned. “I guess you didn’t get my message. I can’t make it. I’m getting my ass handed to me by the Commissioner.” He sighs. “God, what a night. Look, I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I’ll take out a full page ad in the paper about us, okay? Hope you’re having a better time than I am. Bye.”

Oh, fuck. Oh…God. Oh, fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! I plop down in the couch, staring at the phone in disbelief and horror. No. This is not happening. He…I…I have to get the fuck out of here. I’m going to be late.

Millicent’s Bridal Boutique is the “It” place in town for the bride-to-be to purchase her gown. They have access to all the best designers newest lines and in-house tailoring, not to mention an attached flower shop for one-stop shopping. Inside the airy store, gown technician Libby greets me with a mimosa. I decline. The rest of my party hasn’t arrived, so I sit in a Chintz chair off to the side and wait.

Happy young women with their friends and mothers filter in, giggling and chatting about the beaus and dresses. I was never that young. When I was their age, I was taking down meth labs and planning my mother’s funeral. They glance at me slumped in my chair with sunglasses on, dressed mainly in black and their smiles falter a bit. I should be quarantined. I suck the joy out of everyone I come in contact with. I’m toxic.

And I’m an idiot. A huge fucking idiot. He wanted to be there. He tried to explain. But no, my self-loathing and negativity clouded my judgment. I know Harry. He’d never intentionally hurt or play games with me like that. He’s loyal and good. And well rid of me. So well rid of me. I was right. He is too good for me. He deserves better. So much better. I ruin everything. God, what is the matter with me? I fuck everything up. Everything. I don’t deserve him. Never did.

“Miss Fallon?” Libby asks.

I look up. “Yeah?”

“While you’re waiting, would you like to try on your dress?”

“Um, sure.” I follow her into the dressing room where a sleek blue dress with yellow ribbon around the waist hangs on the mirror. I begged for a tux, but it fell on deaf ears. At least there isn’t a big bow on the butt.

It fits and looks beautiful, hugging my curves in the right places. I am going to need a wrap to cover my arms. Not my best feature. The tailor comes in and marks the spots that need taking in or letting out, then leaves to let me get dressed.

As I’m putting on my boots, there’s a knock on the door. Libby pokes her head in. “Excuse me? Millicent wants to know when Dr. Thornton and her family will be in. Her next appointment is here.”

“They still haven’t arrived?”

“No. We’ve tried calling, but there’s no answer.”

“They were out late last night. Let me try.” I pull out my cell and call. The machine picks up on both her house and cell phones. “Hey, it’s Jo. I’m at the boutique. Where are you guys?” I sigh. “Look, I’m going to pop by, okay? See you soon.” I hang up. It’s not like Rebecca not to call or hell, be late period. I pull out one of my cards and stand up. “If they show up or call, can you please let me know?”

Libby takes the card. “Of course.”

As I walk to my car, I try the house again. No answer. I’m going to feel like a total idiot if they’re on their way and I have to go back. Maybe they forgot or got the time and place wrong. I drive faster than usual out of town and into the Garden. Rebecca lives in a quaint community where all the streets branch off from a huge park where parents chat while their offspring play. I circle around once, but don’t see Daisy or her adults.