Page 57 of The Do-Over

“Is Phee here yet?” Mathias asked.

I side-eyed him as he ran fingers through his hair and fiddled with the collar of his button-down. “Why?”

“No reason.”

I hummed and slurped my soda.

Olivia leaned on his arm. “Let’s go get our bowling shoes, Matty.”

Matty? I mouthed.

With a shrug, Mathias let her lead him away. After that, things got busy. A couple of carloads of Hope House women arrived, Bria one of them. Neon green shot through her hair now, accented by oversized hoop earrings. With a chin lift in greeting, she slunk by and settled at one of the lanes.

Phee arrived next, Joel Allen trailing behind her. “Joel wanted to tag along. Hope that’s okay.”

I wanted to scream it was not okay, but I smiled instead and introduced them to Stella, who didn’t seem all that impressed with their local celebrity and assigned them to the same lane as Mathias.

“I can handle this. Go mingle,” Stella said, waving me off.

I slid into a seat next to Phee. Joel Allen sat beside her, a glass of beer in his hand. He raised it in Mathias’s direction and with exaggerated movements, wrapped an arm around Phee’s shoulders. Mathias played with a loose tendril of Miss Cheesehead’s hair, his smile bright.

“How are the wedding plans going?” Mathias asked.

Phee laced her fingers with Joel Allen’s and set their hands on the table. A band of light hit her engagement ring and made it sparkle. Joel Allen shot Mathias a grin that showed too many teeth.

“They’re fine,” Phee said. “After you decided you couldn’t do the photography, we found someone else.”

“She’s done several celebrity weddings before,” Joel Allen said, swigging back his beer.

My head swiveled in Mathias’s direction. “You quit?”

He shrugged, but the high color in his cheeks belied his attempt at appearing nonchalant. “Creative differences.”

Joel Allen smirked.

I wanted to grill Mathias further, but his eyes begged me to do the exact opposite. Besides, my mother and Mimi took that moment to arrive in a flurry of sequins—Mimi’s shirt may have had a former life as a stage costume for a Vegas showgirl—and pinched looks—my mother’s reaction to wearing used shoes.

Mom kissed my cheek. “You look very… colorful.”

Mimi marched between us. “I do like those earrings, darling. You get them from the flea market?”

Mom snapped her mouth closed and took a fortifying breath before continuing. “They are lovely.”

Lovely?

Mimi nodded, a glint of satisfaction in her eye. “That’s what I thought too.”

“Thank you?”

“Of course.” With a stiff smile, Mom greeted Phee and Joel Allen. “I suppose I must get a pair of shoes now. Used shoes. The things I do for my children.” She shuddered and drifted to the counter.

I tugged on Mimi’s arm. “What was that about?”

“We had a little talk. She might be trying to keep her comments to herself a bit more.” She patted my cheek with a ring-laden hand. “Now, who’s ready to bowl?”

A little voice yelled, “Me!” seconds before a slight body slammed into mine. But I wasn’t looking down, my eyes focused on the person standing right in front of me: Nate.

“Lies are like cockroaches and the White Pages,” Mimi liked to say. “They might be useless, but they’ll never go away.”