Not the Marrying Kind(4)
When Sara was ready, Poppy would help her move on with the biggest damned divorce party she could throw. Until then, it was imperative she kept Divorce Diva a secret from her stressed-out sis. With Sara’s divorce imminent, no way would she approve, and Poppy didn’t want her idea scuttled before it had a chance to work. Or worse, cause a relapse when Sara had finally begun to make progress.
Poppy would do whatever it took to save Sara’s business. Plenty of time later to clue Sara in—after she’d succeeded.
“Divorce parties are all about marking the end of suffering and starting fresh. We have rituals for everything else—weddings, births, deaths—why not divorce?”
Ashlee said nothing, her compressed lips and dent between her brows conveying her disapproval.
“A new phase in life is worth celebrating.” Damned straight she’d help Sara celebrate The Pain’s exit. But if Ashlee didn’t buy the professional spiel Poppy had concocted, prospective clients wouldn’t either and that would signal the end. “Plus it can be an opportunity for the newly single to thank all the people who’ve stood by him or her during the ordeal.”
Another thing that had torn Sara apart was losing so many of her friends, those tiresome couples who were happy to hang out with other married peeps but scattered when the couple split. What was up with that? Like friendships were expendable or based on the glittery bauble on your ring finger?
“Friends can throw a party to show their divorcing pal they’re supported and not alone. Or it can be a time to vent, cry, yell, laugh, whatever, in the company of people who love you.” Sara had done enough crying. Poppy would ensure she whooped it up at her divorce party. “What’s so bad about that?”
“I still say it’s tacky.”
Starry-eyed, recently engaged Ashlee would think anything tarnishing the holy sanctity of marriage was tacky. Wait until dearly beloved Craig started working nights and taking longer interstate trips and deleting text messages as soon as they pinged. Then she’d get a reality check.
“We’re not promoting divorce. We’re giving people the option to celebrate it once it’s final.” Poppy pushed a stack of literature across the desk toward Ashlee. “I’ve researched this thoroughly. Divorce parties are the latest and greatest. Party planners are raking it in. We have to do this—it’s good business.”
“I guess.” Ashlee gnawed her bottom lip and darted a nervous glance at the stack of bills.
“No guesswork. Divorce Diva Daily is going to rock.” Feigning confidence, Poppy interlocked her hands behind her head and leaned back.
“It better. Or we’ll be back serving ice creams at Iggy’s.” Ashlee made a mock gagging motion and Poppy wrinkled her nose at memories of their first job in high school. Iggy had a thing for cones—of every variety—and often rocked up to the shop stoned out of his head, sharing the love by feeling up his employees and giving away freebies. The only reason he was still in business was customer loyalty. Provost looked after its own. Poppy hoped that kind of loyalty extended to Party Hard if her Divorce Diva Daily idea went belly-up and Sara lost everything.
“It’ll work, trust me.”
Ashlee perched on the desk. “Like how I trusted you with my mom’s bachelorette party and we almost landed in jail?” She held up her fingers and started counting off misdemeanors. “Like how I trusted you with my secret make-out place and the entire tenth grade ended up there? Like—”
“Build a bridge, hon.” Poppy grinned and waved away Ashlee’s concerns, thankful her best friend was along for a ride that promised to be bumpy at best.
A smile tugged at the corners of Ashlee’s mouth. “I’ll get over it when you prove you’ve matured beyond high school.”
“Hey, I’m mature.”
Ashlee raised an imperious eyebrow and pointed at her desk. “You’re saving a printed RPatz autographed Twilight flyer, your Gryffindor Forever stick-on tattoos are plastered everywhere, and you’ve been clubbing three times this week.”
“I like to bust a move.”
“And the rest?”
“Can never have enough sparkly vamps or Harry Potter around.”
“Just make this work, okay?” Ashlee’s reluctant smile turned into a full-fledged grin as she tapped the stack of bills with a magenta-tipped fingernail.
“You bet.” Poppy saluted.
It wasn’t until Ashlee bustled out of her office that Poppy slumped in her seat, glaring at the bills like they were radioactive.
No matter how many times Divorce Diva Daily recommended songs like Stevie Nicks’s “Stop Dragging Your Heart Around” or ELO’s “Don’t Bring Me Down,” they needed parties to plan.