Before Sunday

Thirty Seven

7:03 PM

It's been seventeen Sundays since I found home.

It's been seventeen Sundays since I have become complete. Whole.

It's been seventeen Sundays since I felt alive.

Seventeen Sundays since my heart, my favorite day of the week returned to me. Gifted by fate, the universe, or by a magic freakin' cupcake—maybe all three. Absurd. All of it.

Madeline looks down disdainfully at the bouquet of lilies and gerber daisies clutched in her hands and sneezes for the hundredth time today. She sounds like a tiny chipmunk.

"Kind of an important detail, Madeline," I say. "You should have told me you had allergies."

"I forgob," she says, wiping the corner of her red nose with Kleenex. "I sent X for bendryl."

As if his ears are burning, X comes into the hotel room just as Madeline speaks his name. He looks dashing in a Tuxedo with a silver cumber bun, and silver bow tie. The color is a perfect match to my not-so-traditional wedding dress. Silver. Not white. Xavier freezes and gapes.

"Oh my God. Mouse, you look," he stops trying to choose his words, "You're beautiful."

I feel heat rush to my cheeks and look down at the skirts of the most beautiful wedding gown I've ever seen. I feel like a princess. Who am I kidding? I am a princess, living in a real life fairytale. "Thank you."

Madeline smiles before holding out her hand expectantly. "That took a whilb," she says, before another sneeze escapes.

Xavier hands her the brown paper bag from the drugstore. "Sorry baby, do you have any idea how many times I got razzed by the basketball team that I was a MoHo? Christ I didn't even know Maid of Honour had an acronym until now." His eyes dart back to me. "I'm never going to live this down, Lo, like—ever. Hope you can appreciate that."

I laugh. "Who else would be my MoHo, X? Let's be real, shall we?"

"You could have asked Maddy." He grins and slips an arm around her shoulder. "She is the one who made the cupcake that brought your boy back." Madeline is only half listening while she fumbles with the lid to the medicine. X absentmindedly takes it from her. "Don't hurt yourself sweetheart."

"HabHab," she says. I think she means 'ha ha,' but can't be certain. She sneezes a third, fourth, and fifth time, all in rapid-fire succession.

"Jeez Madeline, are you gonna make it?"

She is a pathetic vision right now. With red, puffy eyes and a running nose. Poor girl. "I'll surbibe."

"That's Maddy speak for I'll survive," X supplies, as if I'm too dumb to know.

In the last three -months, Xavier has found in Madeline the things he though he wanted with me. The two make an odd, albeit perfect couple. Madeline keeps him in check and in turn, he makes her swoon like a preteen girl at a pop concert. It's disgusting and adorable all at the same time. I love it.

Madeline sniffles again. "Xavier is ribe," she says. "You're gorgeob. Jackson is a lucky, lucky mab."

"Jackson is a lucky lucky mab," Jackson's voice cuts in.

I squeal, yelp and try in vain to hide myself with my bare arms, but it's a ballroom gown so it's no easy task. I move Xavier's body in front of mine like a shield. "Jackson," I chide. "You aren't supposed to see me before the wedding! It's bad luck."