Going to the Chapel: A Novella Read Free Page A

memories flooding her. She and her sisters swinging on the tire swing hanging from the oak tree. Catching lightning bugs in jars, chasing butterflies, and running through the sprinkler. Listening to rock music and daydreaming about what they would do when they left Matrimony as they sat on the porch swing overlooking the yard.
    A handmade wreath hung on the front door, garland draped the porch rails, and red bows decorated the windows.
    But she didn’t see any twinkling lights through the front window. Hadn’t Aunt Dottie decorated a Christmas tree yet?
    She took a deep breath, knocked gently, then let herself in, the familiar scents of home welcoming her: the rosewater-scented candles Aunt Dottie kept in the bathroom, the scent of cinnamon rolls wafting from the kitchen, and pine from the garland on the staircase.
    The house seemed eerily quiet as she entered, but she immediately noticed her aunt’s collection of Santas on the table in the entryway and in the den by the fireplace. The antiques, crocheted doilies, and figurines dressed as carolers made her heart tug. And then there was the silver tea service sitting on the tray on the coffee table.
    Memories of her aunt teaching her and her sisters how to be a lady over tea and shortbread cookies suffused her.
    She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this place.
    Ray had thought collecting Santas and antiques was ridiculous. He’d only wanted showy chrome and glass.
    A quick glance in the living room and she did see a tree, although it wasn’t lit and held no ornaments. Aunt Dottie must have injured herself before she could decorate.
    Photos of her and Daisy and Caroline lined the wall leading up the steps, documenting their childhood.
    Izzy at five learning to ride her bike with Caroline pushing her. Caroline had doctored her boo-boos with princess Band-Aids, let her and Daisy crawl in bed with her after nightmares, helped them buy their first training bras. She’d hand-stitched clothes for their dolls and costumes for the shows Izzy had invented.
    Another photo showed her and Daisy covered in flour in their aunt’s kitchen. Daisy had baked cupcakes and cookies for their school events and birthdays. She’d also built a lemonade stand to sell her treats and tacked flyers all over the town inviting people to Izzy’s one-act plays.
    More photos captured Izzy as a boy in the school play—with her figure as straight as a stickpin from Aunt Dottie’s sewing basket, no one had known she was a girl. Another captured her in the belly-dancing costume she’d worn for the halftime show at homecoming. Daisy, a wannabe cheerleader who had never made the squad, had loved home ec. She had entered the Miss Teenage Chef contest and won for her cheesecake balls. The crushed Oreos she’d sprinkled on top of them had cinched the title.
    Caroline, the soccer player and athlete, had been dubbed the player who would most likely donate her body for the game. She could take out another girl without flinching.
    Izzy had admired her toughness until she’d given her a black eye that night . . . of the scandal.
    When she reached the landing, voices echoed from the bedroom. She knocked on her aunt Dottie’s door and pushed it open, not surprised to see a hatbox on her aunt’s dresser. Aunt Dottie had a thing about hats.
    The antique wardrobe that held her aunt’s ballroom gowns still stood by the bed, reminding her of playing dress-up with her sisters.
    But her breath stalled when she saw Daisy and Caroline sitting by her aunt’s bed.

CHAPTER TWO
    Izzy clutched the kitten to her as if it might save her from her sisters’ wrath. Had they known she was coming?
    She narrowed her eyes, suddenly suspicious. Was her aunt’s leg injury some kind of sneaky ploy to reunite the sisters?
    “I’m so glad you’re finally here,” Aunt Dottie said.
    Izzy steeled herself in case her sisters pounced. Daisy and Caroline looked exactly like they had when she’d last seen them ten years