Free Another Shot At Love by Niecey Roy

anything anymore unless the matter was dramatic.
    She rolled her eyes. “Make an appointment.”
    “The party is two months away. Relax.”
    “She’ll be blonde before the bridal shower,” Mom said and gave me a pointed stare.
    “Yes, Mom,” I answered dutifully.
    “Yeah, well, she better be.” Lexie’s lips puckered up in a small frown. “And you better not color it blue or something just to piss me off.”
    I only smiled and turned back to the plate of bacon on the counter. She knew me too well. Though, to commit an act of rebellion on that level just before her engagement party would be suicide.
    “You should have called earlier,” Catherine said without turning from the sink full of dishes. “I had to get everything back out of the fridge and heated up. And now it’s cold again.”
    “Yeah, well, if you guys would have invited me, I wouldn’t be late.” I loaded a plate with bacon and scrambled eggs, French toast and country-fried hash browns. “Man, I’m starving.”
    “I told you we were stuffing party RSVPs,” Lexie said, comparing fabric swatches to different shades of purple. “I left the boutique early for this.”
    “I’m pretty sure I didn’t get the memo,” I said, my eyes on the shoebox sitting on the table, filled with envelopes. “How many people you are you inviting, anyway? The engagement party isn’t the wedding, you know.”
    “Only our close friends and family.” Lexie waved at the box. “You know how important this wedding is to Jeremy’s family.”
    The Buchanans. Right. Regular pillars of the community and all around snobs— la, la, la . I kept that bit of sarcasm to myself, but only barely. I didn’t like Jeremy’s family, or the way they put my sister on edge, or how she constantly felt she needed to impress or placate them. Jeremy’s dad, Gerard Buchanan, had decided to run for Senate in the upcoming election, and according to the media, he was a shoe-in for the seat. The Buchanans were very much about appearances, now more than ever. If I had to guess, seventy-five percent of the guest list was from the groom’s side in an effort to gain early voter loyalty.
    “Sounds like a great time,” I lied. Being surrounded by the Buchanans, who were also my ex’s close family friends, sounded a little like the kind of hell I wanted no part of.
    “Yes, well, sorry about not sending you a text.” Lexie discarded another fabric swatch. “With the boutique to run, and planning this engagement party and wedding, I’ve been really busy.”
    I ignored the insinuation that Lexie was busy, everyone was busy, and no one thought I was, what with my less-than-demanding data entry job in which I never volunteered for extra duties or participated in any special projects. Catherine, of course, snooped on my performance at work because Catherine was snoopy by nature. I was the family problem-child now, what with my botched relationship and less-than-impressive career.
    And no five-year plan.
    The words had been haunting me ever since Richard mentioned the subject. Once upon a time, before settling into a relationship with Brent, my five-year plan had involved an exciting life on the East Coast where I planned to immerse myself in art and culture. The world had been my freakin’ oyster. Now, not so much.
    Something needed to change. Both of my sisters loved their careers and were moving forward with their lives. Soon, Lexie would be married and pregnant, like Catherine, and they’d both spend their weekends in sweatpants watching TV sitcoms with their beautiful families.
    And I would be at a bar taking shots of Tequila with Roxanna, without a damn five-year plan.
    Frowning, I added more bacon to my plate. It was one of those days.
    Now that I lived alone, I seemed to have a lot more time to devote to painting. After moving into my apartment, I’d converted the second bedroom into an art studio. I spent a few hours a day, if not more, painting. Depending on my mood, the radio