Read Paige Torn for Free Online Page B

about themselves. Most people do.”
    I open my mouth and then stop. That is another argument for another day. “Okay,” I say slowly. “I meant, the whole party — toasts and all.”
    â€œOh goodness no. We need to have time to dance.”
    â€œThen you might want to move the time up. Sunset is about six thirty.”
    Layla purses her lips. “What if we brought in lighting?”
    â€œHow much are you willing to pay for this?” I ask, which is probably where I should have started the conversation last week.
    â€œOh,” Layla says, waving her hand. “Daddy just gave me a huge check for Christmas that I’m going to use to pay for this. And I have some saved up already.”
    Figures. Layla’s father is not the wealthiest man I’ve ever met, but he is pretty darn close. And while he is stingy on things I thought mattered — like safe, noncreepy apartments for his daughter — he is nothing but extravagant on things I’m not sure matter that much. Like brand-new Jettas for graduation and a flat-screen TV always tuned to Fox News in her parents’ guest bathroom.
    It is a little weird. I like Shepard Smith okay, but I don’t like him so much that I want to listen to him while I’m taking care of business.
    I’ve only been to Layla’s parents’ house three times, and the second and third time, I just held it.
    I pull my planner out of my purse and turn to the back where the notebook part of the planner is. It is January. I don’t have a lot of notes in there yet, other than Go to the grocery store today written in bold letters across the top.
    I do need to do that.
    â€œOkay.” I write Prestwicks’ Anniversary across the top of a page and draw a line under it. “What all do we need to do?”
    Layla almost jumps up and down. “Oh thank you thank you, Paige! You know how awful I am at organizing stuff like this. You are the best friend I could ever ask for!”
    I start making a list of everything I can think of from the two anniversary parties I’ve been to — my aunt and uncle’s and my grandparents’. By the time I finish just the preliminary stuff, Layla looks sick and Peter has gone to stand in the corner with his other barely talking friends.
    â€œWow, Paige. That’s a lot of stuff to think about.”
    â€œDon’t freak out. We’ll take it one thing at a time. First things first, you need to come up with an exact starting time so we can send the e-vites. And quick. You probably should have already e-mailed those.”
    â€œInvitations. I still think the handwritten way is classier. And Mom and Dad are classy people.”
    Well. She doesn’t lie.
    Twenty minutes later, I walk out to my car with the start of a headache. More because I don’t have any coffee in the apartment, I think, than planning the anniversary party with Layla.
    I think.
    â€œHey, Paige!”
    I look over and see Tyler walking through the parking lot as well. He waves and I wave back.
    â€œHi, Tyler.”
    â€œComing or going?” He catches up to me, Bible under his arm.
    â€œGoing. You?” Our church has three morning services. Every other week I teach the two-year-old Sunday school class during the first service and then go to the singles’ class.
    â€œGoing as well,” he says, smiling easily.
    â€œSo do you go to second service?”
    He nods.
    â€œYou should start coming to the singles’ Sunday school class then.”
    He shrugs it off. “Nah, I’m not really a single-y type of guy.”
    I frown and sneak a quick look at his left hand. Surely I haven’t missed something so huge in his life. His hand is bare, though. I look back up at him. “Oh, you’re engaged then? Congratulations!” I am always happy to see people get married, especially when I know I’m not going to be called on to help pull off the wedding.
    He laughs.