the fall • s.m.

52 • one day

// margot kate franklin //

@margotkatefranklin: going to weddings makes me want to get married like right now...how bout y'all?🤔

• • •
a couple weeks later...

"Hold still, Jada," I told my soon-to-be stepsister, who was determined to not let me finish curling her hair. She, Jessa, and Joel have been around for so long that I already sort of think of them as my siblings. The official paperwork stuff doesn't really matter.

She fidgeted in her seat one last time before sitting still. "Sorry, Margot."

I sighed and took another strand of hair in my hand, wrapping it around the heated part of the curling wand. "It's alright. I just want to get this done as quickly as possible, so we can get into our dresses and get this thing going."

She nodded, which was a bad choice considering I was holding a four hundred degree heating device right next to her head, but luckily we avoided any injury and I finished curling all of her long hair. "Done," I said, and she hurried out of the seat, rushing away. Kids.

I looked at myself in the mirror. I was looking better than when I first got out of the hospital; brighter, happier, normal again. I was looking like me again, and acting like me again. A little less emotion and a little more rationality. I have also been very good with not apologizing for things I don't need to apologize for. Shawn hasn't had to piece me back together since the hospital, which I'm very thankful for.

My mother was rushing around somewhere doing who-knows-what with who-knows-who. I've offered my help a few times, but she quickly turns me down and assures me she has "everything and everyone completely taken care of." I don't know if I believe her.

"What's up, little sis?"

Liz leaned on the countertop, her straight dark hair falling off of her shoulders gracefully. I shrugged.

"Just thinking," I said, absent-mindedly twisting the ring on my right hand.

"Hmm," she said, eyeing the ring and then eyeing me. Judging would actually be the right word.

"Have you talked to Dad today?" she asked, and I shook my head.

She sighed. "Me neither. Do you think he's fine? I mean, with the wedding and stuff?"

I shook my head again, staring at nothing in particular. "He's not fine, Liz. Imagine watching the love of your life marry someone else. After you gave so much of yourself to them."

She didn't reply. I was a bit too existential for normal girls. Remi usually entertained my existential thoughts. Where's Remi when you need her?

"They don't love each other anymore. They haven't loved each other for a long time. It's not Mom's fault, Margs," Liz told me.

"I didn't say it was. It's both their faults. It's over. That's that," I replied with a shrug.

There's something sobering about your mother marrying another man. On one hand you feel angry for your father; how dare she just give herself to another man when he was the one who, at one time, gave his whole life to her? But on the other hand you feel anger at you father, because he drove her to this in the first place. It's a weird feeling.