by: jhrbrown
I lean my head against the glass and feel myself beginning to nod off. The lullaby created by the hum of the tires against the road and the wistful music on the radio are enough to transport me into a dream world.
Well, it’s more like a memory... of last night.
“Oh, how I wish she were marrying my boy instead of her,” a cheerful yet somber voice says. “I’d much rather be doing this every night.”
“Don’t be silly, hun, you love her!” My mother retorts.
I look around. Everything feels familiar and fuzzy, my head spinning and I think I’m drunk. A slender body is sitting next to me. She’s shaking and I realize she’s crying.
“Maybe, motherrr,” her voice is slurred and I know she’s slightly drunk as well. “We could have spoking to himmm.” For some reason, I don’t know what she means. I know that “spoking” should have been “spoken” but I can’t remember what they’re talking about.
“They were supposed to be married.” I look up and see Esme. Her eyes are puffy and red and she’s pointing at me. “You were supposed to marry my boy, Bella.” She tucks her face into her hands and my mother comforts her.
“Now, now, Esme, love. Don’t be so worried. Eddie knows what he’s doing. He’s found the one he wants and loves. We were just wishful thinkers when we said they were destined.”
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