Julianna
I don’t wear dresses. I literally own two dresses, which I jokingly call my wedding and funeral dresses. I stared at them hanging there in the back of my closet. I’d worn the red dress to Melayia’s wake and the blue floral dress to the burial. I yanked them off the hanger and balled them up. It was time to retire those dresses. Neither one was really appropriate for the evening with Keith anyway. That left me two choices, either I had to go shopping, or I had to go to my father’s and borrow something from Melayia’s vast wardrobe.
I dumped my dresses in the garbage and grabbed my keys. It was a half hour drive to the valley. My parents had built the small house together, and Melayia and I had spent our early years growing up in the white ranch. After my mother died, he
