Greetings from the Flipside Read Online Free Page B

was certain something catastrophic was going to happen on its way through the front doors.
    Potato-farm catastrophic.
    Hope held her breath and wondered how she was going to break the news to Sam that they were going to Idaho. It was supposed to be a big surprise. Well, it was surprising all right.
    Okay, so . . . their first big disappointment to tackle. Fine. They could do it. Besides, Sam was a pretty laid-back guy. He could find the fun in anything, which was what first attracted Hope to him. He’d probably suggest they go cow-tipping or something.
    Hope pulled her mom’s industrial-sized raincoat over her head and raced toward the church. Inside, she found her mom in the room where Hope was to get ready. It smelled musty and the carpet was dense, dark, and old. The rain thumped loudly against the wooden roof and poured down onto the concrete sidewalk just outside the window.
    Her mother joined her at the window. “This is going to be the perfect day, my dear. Just perfect. Who cares about the gloom outside? It’s going to be warm and sunshiny inside, just like you!” She gave Hope a tight, sideways squeeze. Sometimes her mom’s misplaced enthusiasm came in handy.
    Her mom disappeared into a side room to change and Hope stood and watched the rain. She wondered how her mom could see her as warm and sunshiny. She wasn’t that person. Witty, yes. Sarcastic, nearly always. She just didn’t smile that much. But her mom, well, she saw reality a little differently.
    “Hope Landon, you should be smiling. It’s your wedding day!” Becca breezed in, carrying her sapphire-blue matron of honor dress, made especially for her pregnant body. She hung it on the door and frowned. “Why aren’t you dressed? And what’s going on with your hair?”
    “Just waiting for you.” Hope moved away from the window, smiling for Becca’s sake. Hope plopped down in a chair and pointed to her hair.
    “No kidding,” Becca said. “Looks like you drove here with the top down!” She fluffed Hope’s hair with her fingers. “But no worries. I can fix it. I brought all my magic.” She grabbed a large bag off the floor.
    “This is my wedding day.” The breath in her lungs felt inadequate. “It seems surreal.”
    “You’re going to look stunning. The hair’s definitely going up.”
    And for the next thirty minutes, Becca sprayed and combed until her hair looked sassy and elegant and part of this decade. She then went to work on Hope’s makeup.
    “Take a look,” Becca said, handing her a mirror.
    Hope gasped. “I do look good!”
    “Dress time!” Becca sang. She helped Hope into it, tugging on the zipper as Hope sucked in. Her mother flitted back into the room, twirling in her new outfit: cream and almost no polyester except her floral vest, which was trimmed with burgundy piping. Hope thought she looked pretty, with her hair pinned back by jeweled-toned clippies. Her lipstick was vibrant—enough to come with a radiation warning—but even that looked right on her today.
    “Gorgeous, Mom.”
    “Me? Look at you! Good heavens, Lord Almighty! You are a drop of sunshine in a bucket of chemical cleaner, my dear. You’re like the smell-good in the Pine-Sol.”
    Hope leaned toward the window. “There are actual cars out there! People are coming! I thought nobody would show up.”
    “Are you kidding?” Becca said. “Now suck in, or they’re going to see more than they bargained for.”
    Hope obeyed. “I’m sorry, I ate a Popsicle last night.”
    “Hope Landon, I thought we agreed to no sugar for the last three days?”
    “Oh God!” her mother shouted. “Please cause that zipper to—”
    “Got it!” The zipper slipped up her back and the dress closed. Hope turned, gazing at herself in the long mirror.
    “Are my hips wide?”
    “Shush,” Becca said. “This is your wedding day. Nothing is going to ruin it for you.”
    Her mom walked over, observing her daughter with complete delight. “Oh, I nearly forgot!” She