How could there be? It’s not like Paul could know my mom better than I do. I know she was awesome. She was an incredible mom until she was just gone.

“We’re here to pick up the invitations for the Gibson wedding,” Derrick tells the girl behind the counter when we get inside the shop. She’s young—probably in her twenties and she’s eying us all up and down, but I can’t make myself get into it.

“Wonderful… Which of you is the lucky groom?” She starts to walk to a table, and we follow her.

Paul and I quickly point to Derrick as he sits in one of the chairs. “That’s me.”

“My name is Aubra. I was expecting your fiancé. I must say, this is the first time I’ve seen the groom pick out the invitations on his own.”

This catches my attention. Derrick has that deer in the headlights look, so I speak for him. “What do you mean, pick them out? Aren’t we picking them up?”

“No. Lora made the appointment today to have them made up. We’re putting a rush on it since the wedding isn’t too far out. I understand you had some trouble with a venue?”

I fall in the chair next to Derrick. Paul takes the one on the other side, and we sit there probably looking like the biggest idiots in the world. But then I realize it’s just a piece of paper. How hard can it be?

A cup rattles on the desk when Aubra drops a huge book onto it. “Do you know what you’re looking for? We have linen finish, matte finish… Oh! Or silk laminate. There’s recycled and unbleached or bleached. This handmade soft paper is really popular, but my favorite is this new wood grain texture. It’s beautiful and masculine, depending on the theme of the wedding…”

Blah, blah. Blah, blah, blah blah. Is all I hear. No wonder Derrick is freaking. Who knew there were so many different kinds of paper?

“Derrick. Call your girl. She’s going to kick our asses if we get this wrong.” Lora’s scary about this wedding. I can’t believe she would send us to do this.

Derrick’s dialing the phone. He’s on it a few seconds before he hangs up and calls again. He calls three times before he leaves a message, telling her to call because we have no idea what we’re doing.

“Dylan, try Ziah,” he tells me.

Stupid as it sounds, my heart kicks up. I definitely can’t say no to my brother, or he’ll know something’s up. So I call Ziah. Straight to voicemail.

“She’s not answering.”

“What was Lora thinking?” My brother’s eyes are all wide. “Seriously. This is invitations. It’s a big deal.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to give him hell, but I can tell how important this is to him. He wants to get it right and do it for Lora. Gotta respect him for that.

“I’m guessing she’s thinking she trusts you. That you can do this, and that she’ll be happy with whatever you choose.”

Really, I’m thinking we are so fucked here and wondering if Lora took a ride on the crazy train by giving us this responsibility.

“You know Lora. Let’s just try and think about what she likes. There’s that walkthrough thing with the chandelier or whatever. I think it has branches or twigs or something on it.” I have no idea what I’m saying. “So that’s sort of rustic, right?” I look at Aubra. “Is that a theme?”

She’s got a half-smile on her face. “Sounds like it.”

“And the wedding is at Vista house!” Derrick adds. “Which is sort of like a castle with all the bricks and stuff.” He starts fingering through the paper. “What about this?” he asks Aubra. I have no idea what kind of paper it is, but it looks like it fits.

“I think that will be nice. Have you thought about font?”

Font? Holy shit, weddings are a lot of work. I don’t get why all this stuff matters. “Cursive?”

“There’s like ten billion different fonts to choose from, Dylan. Even I know that,” Paul laughs.

I ignore him. We seriously do go through about ten billion different lettering until Derrick finally decides on one. The invitations will be pretty cool. From one side of the paper branches come out across it. They’re raised a little and remind me of some of the stuff I’ve seen Lora looking at.

Luckily he does know what they’re supposed to say, and an hour later, we’re heading out of the place. Now that the catastrophe is over, and I realize my brother’s not going to have a nervous breakdown over a piece of paper, I can give him shit about it.

“I thought you were going to either piss your pants or pass out,” I tease him.

“What was Lora thinking?” Paul says in a mock-girl voice.

“Screw you guys.” He pushes us both, but Paul and I are still cracking up.

“Aww, were you scared you’d get in trouble? Poor Derrick.” I trip as he grabs me and puts me in a headlock. It doesn’t stop my laughing.

After he feels like he’s kicked our asses enough, and we’re all leaning against a wall to catch our breath, he says, “You guys give me shit, but I love her. I want things to be perfect for her. She deserves that, and the cool thing is she’s the same way about me. Tease me if you want, but I’m lucky as hell. I have a girl who would do anything for me, and I would do the same for her.”

None of us are laughing anymore. It’s so crazy to hear my brother now—to see he’s like… grown up? Gotten over all the shit that happened. Everything. Is that because of him or Lora? I don’t know, but for the first time, I’m a little jealous of him. Me and Dad, neither of us are where Derrick is.

“Did you tell her?” My voice is quiet. It doesn’t even bother me that Paul is here. Right now, I just need to know. “Did you tell her about Mom?”

Derrick puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “I did. The second I knew she meant more to me than just fun, I told her. She deserved to know where I came from. Why I still freeze up once in a while or have a hard time sharing things with her or being as close as we should be.”

This makes my head snap up. “You’re not over it?” Then how is he doing this?

“Most of the time, but I don’t know if you ever really get over the stuff that happens to you, D. It’s a part of you, but I know Lora isn’t Mom. I know it’s not fair to hold what Mom did against her.”

But how? That’s what I don’t get. How he does it or how he can have that faith in her. I don’t think Dad ever thought Mom would bail.

And then I think about Ziah, too. She has no idea why I pulled the plug the other day. She’s just had her boyfriend cheat on her… what if she thinks I’m like that too? That I’m rejecting her the way her douche of an ex did.

Regardless of our relationship, I care about her. Does that mean she deserves to know too?

“Dylan, I really need to talk to you about Mom. There’s something you need to know.”

I look up to see Paul’s walked away. He’s standing by the cars.

“I don’t want to talk about her.”

“We need to.”

Right now, I can’t stop thinking about Ziah even though I don’t get why. “Like you said, it’s in the past.”

He squeezes my shoulder again. “Not if you don’t leave it there. Plus… I need to tell you—”

“Later, okay?” I step away from him. “I gotta go. I need to talk to Ziah.”

“Hey!” He yells when I get to Mary. “You came through for me today. Way to man-up.”

I nod at him in reply, and Paul walks over to Derrick, who without my having to say it, will bring him home.

***

I’m nervous as hell when I knock on her door. I clutch a bag in my right hand, still not able to believe I stopped at the store on my way here. It’s as good an excuse as any, though. I’ve seriously driven by her house like fifty times waiting for her to get home from whatever she did with Lora and then for Lora to leave again.

I’m about to knock again, when the door pulls open. Ziah’s standing there with her hair loose around her head in a tank top and flannel pajama bottoms.

“Dylan, hey. What’s up?”

Holding the bag out to her, I say, “I got you something. Can I come in?”

She pulls the door open for me and closes it when I step inside. It looks like her hands shake a little when she opens the bag. “A white T-shirt?”