several batches of goodies and made huge batch of blackberry jam, the kitchen was a disaster area. But, we were too busy baking, tasting, cleaning, and laughing to take too close a look at Jen’s impending appointment the next day and that’s exactly what I wanted.
“What do you think of this one?” Jen pulled out a pretty dress and a cardigan from her closet to add to the growing pile of clothing on her bed. She was putting an awful lot of thought into an outfit for her “pity date”. I didn’t bring that little fact up though.
“It’s cute.” I said. She dropped her arms and glanced over at me.
“By cute, you mean boring?” She groaned. “I have no idea what to wear, maybe I need a change or something.” I jumped up off the floor and went over to her very over-stuffed closet.
“You’ve got tons of great things in here, you just need a fresh perspective.” I tugged the outfit out of her grasp and shooed her over to a chair. When I opened her closet door, I knew exactly what her problem was. She had everything already matched … a lot of her outfits had purses hanging from them to go the extra-matching-mile. I grimaced. She had nice stuff and I always knew she was a little bit of a perfectionist, but her closet was over the top. It screamed to be torn apart and everything jammed back in at random. Jen had issues with being random and spontaneous. She liked order, but sometimes chaos is exactly what the doctor ordered. I jerked out several outfits from the closet and unmatched them before tossing leftovers onto the bed.
“Wait. What are you doing? Those are already complete outfits.” Jen snatched a blouse out of the air before it hit the bed. I ignored her. “Why are you mismatching everything?” Jen waved the shirt at me. I put a hand on my hip to scowl over at her.
“Jennifer Collins, you need to live a little and the first step is to understand that wearing flowered panties under a striped dress is perfectly acceptable. Freeing, even.” I tossed a striped dress into the try on pile and tried to keep from smiling as Jen bounced back and forth on the balls of her feet to keep from snatching her clothes out of my hand and reorganizing them all.
When she stood in front of the mirror after several outfits had been tried on and discarded, she scrunched up her nose and I sighed. She looked amazing.
“It’s going to kill me to say this … but, I love it!” She let out a squee and hugged me tightly. She turned around to admire herself in the mirror. She wore a pink, jean skirt paired with a flowing, floral, cap-sleeved top. Over that she had on a cream colored corduroy vest. All three pieces were from different outfits in her closet, but the different textured pieces together looked trendy and yet still Jen . I glanced down at my watch. It was an hour before the guys would be picking us up. Time for me to get ready.
My outfit took a lot less time. My favorite blue jeans, an embroidered, cream colored boho blouse and my brown boots and I was ready for some country dancing and good, old fashioned, country food.
e arrived at the Peterson barn along with several other truckloads of people ready and raring for a good time. Matt helped me out of the truck and Hunter helped Jen out. The guys looked great. Matt wore jeans and boots that would make any country girl beg to cool her boots under his bed. Jen’s face had been priceless when she caught a glimpse of Hunter when he came to pick us up. He’d dressed in black jeans, a little baggier than what was “in” for a country boy, a black, Johnny Cash, Man in Black tee that was plenty tight enough to highlight ripped abs and very muscular arms. They also showed of a tattoo of a rose on his bicep that was squeezed by thorns until red drops of blood fell from it. The initials A.C. and H. W. were on either side of the rose.
We could hear the strains of country music filtering out from the huge barn, and from the sound of it, the place was going to be
“What do you think of this one?” Jen pulled out a pretty dress and a cardigan from her closet to add to the growing pile of clothing on her bed. She was putting an awful lot of thought into an outfit for her “pity date”. I didn’t bring that little fact up though.
“It’s cute.” I said. She dropped her arms and glanced over at me.
“By cute, you mean boring?” She groaned. “I have no idea what to wear, maybe I need a change or something.” I jumped up off the floor and went over to her very over-stuffed closet.
“You’ve got tons of great things in here, you just need a fresh perspective.” I tugged the outfit out of her grasp and shooed her over to a chair. When I opened her closet door, I knew exactly what her problem was. She had everything already matched … a lot of her outfits had purses hanging from them to go the extra-matching-mile. I grimaced. She had nice stuff and I always knew she was a little bit of a perfectionist, but her closet was over the top. It screamed to be torn apart and everything jammed back in at random. Jen had issues with being random and spontaneous. She liked order, but sometimes chaos is exactly what the doctor ordered. I jerked out several outfits from the closet and unmatched them before tossing leftovers onto the bed.
“Wait. What are you doing? Those are already complete outfits.” Jen snatched a blouse out of the air before it hit the bed. I ignored her. “Why are you mismatching everything?” Jen waved the shirt at me. I put a hand on my hip to scowl over at her.
“Jennifer Collins, you need to live a little and the first step is to understand that wearing flowered panties under a striped dress is perfectly acceptable. Freeing, even.” I tossed a striped dress into the try on pile and tried to keep from smiling as Jen bounced back and forth on the balls of her feet to keep from snatching her clothes out of my hand and reorganizing them all.
When she stood in front of the mirror after several outfits had been tried on and discarded, she scrunched up her nose and I sighed. She looked amazing.
“It’s going to kill me to say this … but, I love it!” She let out a squee and hugged me tightly. She turned around to admire herself in the mirror. She wore a pink, jean skirt paired with a flowing, floral, cap-sleeved top. Over that she had on a cream colored corduroy vest. All three pieces were from different outfits in her closet, but the different textured pieces together looked trendy and yet still Jen . I glanced down at my watch. It was an hour before the guys would be picking us up. Time for me to get ready.
My outfit took a lot less time. My favorite blue jeans, an embroidered, cream colored boho blouse and my brown boots and I was ready for some country dancing and good, old fashioned, country food.
e arrived at the Peterson barn along with several other truckloads of people ready and raring for a good time. Matt helped me out of the truck and Hunter helped Jen out. The guys looked great. Matt wore jeans and boots that would make any country girl beg to cool her boots under his bed. Jen’s face had been priceless when she caught a glimpse of Hunter when he came to pick us up. He’d dressed in black jeans, a little baggier than what was “in” for a country boy, a black, Johnny Cash, Man in Black tee that was plenty tight enough to highlight ripped abs and very muscular arms. They also showed of a tattoo of a rose on his bicep that was squeezed by thorns until red drops of blood fell from it. The initials A.C. and H. W. were on either side of the rose.
We could hear the strains of country music filtering out from the huge barn, and from the sound of it, the place was going to be
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