“I still do.”
I hung up.
The invitations went out two weeks later. Cream paper, dark green lettering at the bottom because Milo insisted.
Milo Bennett ring security.
The location was clearly printed.
Bellweather Estate.
My parents received theirs. So did Vanessa.
I excluded nobody.
That part mattered to me. I was not going to become them.
Mom texted the day her invitation arrived.
Mom: Bellweather Estate.
Me: Yes.
Mom: Is that near Ashland?
Me: Close.
Mom: Is it some new wedding barn?
I stared at the screen. She genuinely had not connected the name.
I could have told her.
I didn’t.
Not because I was plotting, because apparently I was no longer running a free information service either.
10 minutes later.
Mom: Vanessa chose October 18th for her shower.
I showed Daniel.
He laughed.
“She actually did it.”
“She actually did.”
Mom: We assume you’ll move your ceremony.
Me: No.
Mom: Clara.
Me: Mom.
Mom: This is childish.
Me: Then it should be perfect for a baby shower.
Daniel had to leave the room.
Vanessa announced her event in the family group chat.
The double blessing twin extravaganza.
No one had asked her to call it that.
The theme was two little stars are falling from heaven. There were clouds, gold moons, two enormous teddy bears, a neon sign, a balloon arch, a champagne wall.
I received a spreadsheet.
Vanessa had assigned responsibilities.
My responsibilities were flowers, photography deposit, diaper raffle prizes, custom cookies, champagne wall, surprise entertainment.
I replied, “Please remove me from the spreadsheet.”
She answered, “You’re my sister.”
“Correct. Then act like it by attending my own wedding.”
She blocked me.
6 hours later, she unblocked me because she needed my balloon vendor’s number.
October approached.
The family became increasingly insane.
Mom called Aunt Susan.
“You’re really going to Clara’s wedding instead of supporting a pregnant woman.”
Aunt Susan said, “I supported two pregnancies personally.”
“Not twins.”
“No, but I was very brave.”
Mom hung up.
She called cousin Leah.
“Family support brides.”
“Clara is an adult.”
“So is Vanessa.”
Another hangup.
My brother Eric tried neutrality. That lasted 9 minutes.
“I don’t want to get in the middle,” he told me.
“You called me.”
“Right.”
“So technically you walked into the middle.”
He sighed.
“Mom says Vanessa will never forgive us if we skip the shower.”
“What happens if you skip my wedding?”
He paused.
“You’ll never forgive us.”
“No. Oh, I’ll simply know what you chose.”
That apparently hit harder.
Eric came to the wedding. His wife came. Their daughter became our flower girl.
Mom treated this like he had defected to another country with military secrets.
2 weeks before the wedding, she arrived at my house carrying banana bread.
Banana bread was my mother’s peace treaty.
She put it on the counter.
“We need to fix this.”
I looked at the loaf.
“Is it poisoned?”
“Clara, I’m trying to understand the tone. Can you stop joking for 5 minutes?”
“No.”
She sat down.
“Your sister needs you.”
“She has a husband.”
“She needs family.”
“She scheduled her shower during my wedding.”
“She was emotional.”
“She signed a contract with a country club.”
“She wanted to make a point.”
“She did.”
Mom folded her arms.
“She thinks you don’t care about the twin.”
“I bought two car seats before they developed eyebrows.”
“That’s money, not love.”
“Correct. 800 of not love.”
She closed her eyes.
“What if you move the ceremony to Sunday numb? The venue could surely accommodate it.”
“No.”