Shift Burn (Imogene Museum Mystery #6) Read Free Page B

heart started fluttering faster — jumping all over the place. I pulled down the old roller shade on the window and perched on the edge of the squeaky bed draped in a garishly cheerful scrap quilt, gulping deep breaths.
    Outside, car doors slammed and the chatter level picked up as people greeted each other and children worked out the wriggles caused by sitting still so long through church. I envied their freedom to turn cartwheels in the grass. Maybe I could slip out a side door and join them in the not-so-fresh, smoke-filled air. We were all going to smell as if we’d been camping by the end of the afternoon.
    High heels clacked up the wood stairs, and fingernails tapped on the bedroom door. I opened it a crack.
    Mom took one look at me and said, “I’ll get a cool washcloth.”
    When she returned a minute later with not one, but three, soaked cloths, she said, “You’ll be fine.”
    “I’m a mess.”
    “Lie down.” Mom gently nudged me back on the pillows and arranged a folded washcloth on my forehead. She handed me the other two. “Stick these down your shirt. What’s the one thing that’s bothering you most? It usually helps me if I can name my worry. Is it Pete?”
    I bit my lip hard. “Never. It’s me. What if I’m not good enough for this — this kind of forever?”
    Mom smiled softly. “None of us are. Not even Pete, which you’ll find out soon enough. Although it’s good you think so now.” She picked up my hand, turned it over and stroked my palm. “Is that all?”
    My mouth was so dry that forming words was difficult. “Isn’t that enough?”
    “Think of everything Alex has done for me. I could never repay him, but it doesn’t matter. We’re together. You know where he is? Downstairs pacing in the kitchen, sweating more than you are. And why? Because he’s terrified he’s going to do something stupid like step on your dress while he walks you down the aisle.”
    I sputtered a surprised laugh, and Mom chuckled with me.
    “The two of you will battle your problems at times, and Pete’s problems at other times. It’s the sticking together that matters, extending grace to each other.” Mom wiped a tear from her eye. “You’re my adventurous girl, braver than I ever was.” She squeezed my hand. “Go for it.”
    I pushed to sitting and wrapped Mom in a tight hug. She sniffled against my shoulder. She smelled of lavender and peaches, the way she used to when she rocked me through long nights of earaches and upset tummies when I was little.
    “Oooo.” Mom pushed away and brushed at the front of her blouse. “You’re wet.” She swiped at the mascara smudging under her eyes. “Now we’re both a mess.”
    Another tap on the door, and Harriet poked her head in, talking as she entered. “Need help? Pastor Mort and Sally are here and people are starting to get settled—” She cast a quick glance between Mom and me. “Oh dear. Emergency measures?”
    I stood and handed the dripping washcloths to Harriet. “Yes, please. Quickly.”
    It took both Mom and Harriet to wedge me back into the dress. Two days — how could I possibly have become wider in two days? It had to be the heat. I was swelling with every passing moment.
    After much tugging and smoothing and inhaling, the dress zipped all the way to the top. I was so stuffed and stiff, I was going to look like a robot walking down the aisle.
    Mom fiddled with my hair while Harriet dabbed blush on my cheeks.
    “I’m a mess,” I groaned again.
    “That’s what the veil is for, honey,” Harriet murmured as she pinned it in place and flipped the gauze over my face.
    Thundering steps sounded on the stairs, alternating clump — bang, clump — bang, courtesy of an awkward walking cast. “What’s going on up here?” Sheriff Marge’s voice echoed in the narrow hallway, then she appeared in the doorway. “’Bout ready? Got an antsy groom out there.”
    I turned away from the mirror.
    Sheriff Marge sucked in a breath and beamed at