Peaches

“But what about Rex?”
    “Leeda,” Mrs. Cawley-Smith said, “you can do without him for one night.”
    “But I’m the maid of honor.”
    Silence from both Danay and their mom. Birdie had reachedthe bottom of her Diet Coke and made a sucking sound with her straw, then looked at Leeda self-consciously.
    “That’s not fair. Mom?”
    Lucretia merely rolled over onto her back and pursed her lipsticked lips.
    “Leeda, the maid of honor usually partners up with the best man,” Danay said flatly.
    Leeda winced. Brighton’s best man was Glen, his bald, gay cousin. The few times they’d met, he treated Leeda like a princess, to the point of it being embarrassing.
    “But…” Leeda felt desperate. It went beyond feeling shafted. She didn’t think she could take the hours being trapped with her family in such a major act of Danay worship without Rex at her side. She would shrivel into nothing. She would lose herself. She would get the feeling she was getting right now, only times ten.
    “Birdie got an invite,” Danay interrupted, “and it didn’t allow for a guest either, and you don’t hear her complaining.”
    Birdie looked up, startled.
    “Birdie doesn’t complain. Ever.” Leeda made sure to keep her voice even.
    Danay turned to Birdie. “Birdie, help me out here. You’re not upset you’re not allowed to bring a date, are you?”
    Birdie looked at Danay, then at Leeda nervously. “Um. I don’t know.” She stood up, walked to the base of the diving board, and pin-dropped into the pool, then surfaced and swam as far away from them as possible, treading water. Leeda felt too persecuted herself to notice Birdie’s obvious discomfort.
    Danay stood up. “I’m going to find Lydia and get her tobring us some snacks. What do you want?” Danay rubbed the top of Leeda’s head in her affectionate, oblivious, condescending way.
    It gave Leeda the same feeling she always had with her family, of pounding against a giant wall. She looked at her mom. And it hit her like a brick. She really did love Danay better. Maybe it was just by a fraction, but she did. Leeda watched Danay disappear into the house.
    Both Cawley-Smith daughters had been named after goddesses, in the pretentious Cawley-Smith way, though neither of their names had been spelled correctly since Lucretia didn’t know as much about mythology as she wanted to act like she did. Only Danay seemed to merit the allusion—sliding in through the glass door, trailing that extra fraction of love behind her like a yo-yo.
    Leeda picked at a nail, wanting badly to go inside and call Rex because that was what she always did. But she knew, grudgingly, that Birdie would hate to be left alone with her mom. Instead she tried to tell herself the things Rex would say to calm her down. But she couldn’t think of an excuse he could give her for the reason she wasn’t good enough for her family.

    Murphy was sitting on the front porch when they got back.
    “Are you waiting for us?” Birdie asked.
    Murphy looked around and shrugged. Clearly she was. She looked like a little lost puppy.
    “I thought you guys might have drowned in the jacuzzi or something,” she murmured sarcastically.
    “It’s too hot for the jacuzzi,” Leeda joked back.
    “You guys wanna go to the lake?”

    They plopped down on the grass by Smoaky Lake, stretching out on their backs. Leeda felt so helpless, but she also somehow felt like she didn’t have to say it. Watching the clouds go by with Birdie and Murphy was very Zen.
    “Will you guys come with me to the engagement party?” Leeda asked suddenly, surprising Birdie and Murphy and even herself. “I don’t think I can take it by myself.”
    Silently Birdie and Murphy nodded.
    “That one is Danay getting jilted at the altar,” Leeda finally said, pointing to a fat white cirrus that was drifting by.
    “That one is Danay and your mom tied to some train tracks,” Murphy added.
    Birdie searched the clouds too. “There’s a big chocolate Easter bunny,” Birdie said. “Sitting next to the Virgin Mary.”
    They all laughed.

Chapter Sixteen
    I t drizzled all day the next day, so peach picking was called off. Birdie walked around the orchard in the rain, looking for ripe blackberries along the perimeter. The cider house was at the far back corner of the farm, and Birdie could see from under the hood of her sweatshirt that the door was open, an orange glow coming from inside. She pulled her hood back and gave herself the breath