Minnesota Nice

Dear Reader,

So this is one that got away from me. It's far from perfect, but I hope it's just a bit of niceness that entertains you for a while.

Themes of family rejection, homophobia, and religious trauma (hinted at more than presented). So take care if you aren't in a space to read something like that.

If you'd like to leave a comment or reach out to me through my profile, feedback is always appreciated. I hope you enjoy!

XO

Kate

_

Being a bridesmaid is a lot of work.

Being your younger sister's bridesmaid for her out-of-state wedding is a lot of work and expensive.

Being your younger sister's bridesmaid for her out-of-state wedding into a VERY wealthy family who are miles above your tax bracket is a lot of work, expensive, and painfully awkward.

Yet, Catie was planning on participating in every minute of the affair with a smile on her face, forced, if necessary.

Really, she could have handled all of this just fine if not for the fact that her younger sister was a princess. Every event leading up to her "big day" had been a pain to Catie's patience as well as her wallet.

The bridal shower was a pink and green (Gwen had insisted it be called "dusty rose" and "sage") nightmare with specific games, cutesy videos, and organic/vegan/cage-free/low fat snacks. As the sister, the task of organizing had fallen to Catie. A fact which her mother had repeatedly drilled into her head while her useless little brothers got to go to the bar with the guys. Not that it was Levi or Asher's fault that they were born male and still identified that way, but it would have taken some of the pressure off of her. They did both contribute two mildly helpful and very friendly girlfriends that Catie appreciated.

And that was, of course, another sticking point with her family; everyone was all happily coupled up. Gwen and Payton, Levi and Monica, Asher and Hailey...and Catie, the oldest and singlest Grant sibling.

"Catie!" Her mother's voice called her in from the garden where she was bent working in the June sunshine. She sat up to look toward the house as a light wind blew across her face. What had started off as a slightly cold breeze that morning was now not enough to cool her down as it rustled her clothes.

She had spent the morning transferring her parent's tomato plants to the garden beds so her fingers smelled like the stalks and soil. Dirt was caked under her short fingernails and in the lines on her hands. The knees of her jeans were slightly damp from kneeling on the ground and her back ached.

"Catie! Gwen is on the phone!"

Running a dirty hand through her short, blonde hair, Catie shifted up off her knees. Damn, getting up from a crouched position in her late thirties was very different from when she was twenty. She took a moment to shake out her legs.

"Coming!" Her response seemed to disturb the peace of the garden, a few birds flitted out of nearby trees and the breeze stilled.

She trotted up to the house, wiping her hands on her jeans as she went. Her mom was standing at the back kitchen door with her cell phone in hand. The house was the same one Catie and her siblings had grown up in, though it had gone through a few renovations in the last fifteen years since she'd lived there.

Her mom held the phone to her chest as if she could block the sound. "She's got some questions about the bridesmaid schedule," she whispered.

"Okay, I'll talk to her."

Bringing the phone back to her ear, her mom addressed her sister. "Gwen, honey? Yeah, Catie's here. Yup, I'll put her on. I love you! Can't wait to see you next week!" She handed the phone over.

Catie took the device, took a deep breath, and smiled (even if her sister couldn't see her). "Hey, Gwennie. What's up?"

"Ugh, don't call me that," her sister's relaxed, L.A. voice responded. "I swear I'll have the M.C. announce you as Catherine at the reception."

"Fine, fine, anyway, how are you?"

"I'm good. Listen," her sister's voice changed volume as she spoke to someone in the background for a second, then she came back to the phone. "Right, so we are doing 'Misty Grey' for nails. It's a Halo brand gel color so make sure you visit a salon that carries Halo. Have you thought more about extensions? You can get clip-in ones that will look fine once your hair is done. There's a brand that my hair stylist carries-"

"Hang on, Gwen! Jesus, I'm still on the dusty gray thing, let me go get a pen."

"MISTY GREY! MISTY grey, god, tell me you wrote it down. MISTY grey!"

Catie kicked off her shoes by the door and padded into the kitchen, pulling open the junk drawer in search of a pen and sticky note. "I've got it, 'misty grey', what was the brand again?"

"HALO! H-A-L-O. The gel polish."

"Okay, I've got it."

Gwen sighed, "Good, now, your hair...mom said you got a bowl cut recently...?"

"Oh my god, it's not a bowl cut!" Catie rolled her eyes. Of course her mom had been horrified when she'd cut off more of her hair, but summer was coming and she'd wanted something different. It was only slightly shorter than the bob she'd been sporting all winter and honestly, she hadn't thought about the wedding when she cut it. Catie didn't see why it mattered if her hair was long or short. "It's a short bob, not quite a pixie cut. Meredith did it."

"Can you send me a picture? I'm just worried about the aesthetics because all of the other bridesmaids have long hair and we're doing up-dos."

"Aesthetics? Of the people standing up with you on your wedding day?"

Catie could practically hear Gwen roll her eyes, "You know I would have you in my wedding even if you had green hair and orange skin, but Payton's family is very traditional and we're going to have these photos forever!"

"If you want me to wear extensions, I'll figure it out when I get out to L.A.," Catie said.

"It's just, we won't have a lot of time. You fly in on Thursday and we've got ladies' brunch followed by facials at the spa, then rehearsal dinner. Friday is the family luncheon, then the karaoke night party, and Saturday is obviously completely booked. Plus, where are you going to find a salon who takes walk-ins?"

"Why is the rehearsal on Thursday again?"

"Caaaaatie," Gwen cried with exasperation. "Someone else is getting married at the venue on Friday so we only have it for Saturday!"

"Right, sorry."

"It's fine." Though the way her sister said it meant it really wasn't. "That reminds me though, have you found a date yet?" Gwen asked.

Catie rolled her eyes, "Gwen, I told you not to give me a plus one. I don't really have anyone willing to fly across the country with me to spend four days at a wedding."

Gwen groaned, "But you're the only single one in the bridal party-"

"Thanks for the reminder."

"That's not what I meant," Gwen said. "It's just that the luncheon is going to have couple-y activities and we're doing team trivia at karaoke, so you'll make the numbers odd."

Catie sighed, "I'm sorry, Gwen. I don't know what to tell you. Find me a blind date in L.A. or something. One of your friends has got to have a single cousin. The entire state of California can't all be paired up."

"You'd be surprised," her sister huffed. "Just, promise me nothing will go wrong with your flight and you will be here on time and dressed appropriately for brunch? Payton's grandmother is going to be there and the woman scares the shit outta me. I swear she thinks she's a Vanderbilt or something."

"Gwen, breathe," Catie instructed her. "It will all be fine. My flight will be on time, my clothing will be posh, and my nails foggy gray."

"MISTY GREY!!"

Catie laughed, "I promise."

Her reassurances to her sister took a few minutes longer, but when she hung up, she thought that maybe a few of Gwen's anxieties were calmed. She set her mom's phone down on the counter and went to wash her hands in the kitchen sink. The wind was starting to pick up outside. She could see the branches blowing through the kitchen window.

"Looks like they'll be right about those storms tonight, eh?" Her dad's thick Minnesota accent pulled her away from the window as he entered the kitchen. "Hope you staked those plants well."

"They'll be fine," she said as she dried her palms with the rooster-themed dishrag. "They're big enough now and I put cages around most of them."

"Good thing." He pulled open the fridge and stooped to find a Labatt on the bottom shelf. "Ya wanna beer, Catie-did?"

She smiled at the old nickname, "No thanks, I've got to get home and check on Yank."

"Alright, give the guy an extra treat from me."

"I will," Catie peeked into the family room, but didn't see her mother, "You'll tell mom I said bye?"

Her dad gave her a piercing glance over his beer bottle. "Catie," he said in a warning tone.

"I'm not avoiding, just streamlining the goodbye process. More Minnesotans should try it."

That response didn't get the smile from her dad that she'd hoped. Instead he huffed and groaned as he pulled a chair out at the table and settled himself in it. "I know you're less than thrilled about this wedding. Lord knows we aren't really fancy people like Payton's folks, but your sister loves him and we're gonna support her."

Catie rubbed a hand over the back of her neck, "I know, Dad. I'm supportive."

His eyes crinkled, "Maybe a bit jealous of baby sister?" He teased.

"No, dad," she said, trying not to sound too exasperated. "I'm just tired of the fanfare. And I do need to get going. I'm going to have to stop by Meredith's place to see if she can get this color Gwen wants for our nails."

Her dad took a swig of beer and nodded, "Alright. Go on. I'll tell your mother you had to go."

"Thanks!" She gave him a quick squeeze on the shoulder, slipped into her dirty tennis shoes, and booked it out the backdoor.

Her truck sat near the end of her parent's driveway. It was the one luxury she'd allowed herself to buy, with her last active duty paycheck as the down payment. Even with opting for minimal bells and whistles, the monthly payments had been obscene, but she'd bought her little house at such a great deal she figured it balanced out. Now the truck was well-loved and several years old, but still shiny and running great.

She threw a few gardening tools into the bed of the pickup and hopped inside the cab. Her playlist popped up as soon as she started backing out of the driveway, meaning her phone must be in the vehicle somewhere. Catie was terrible at keeping track of the device. It was usually tucked into the side door of her truck or else it slid under the seat. Often she found it in the sofa in her living room. Ed Sheeran's "Shape of You" blared through the speakers as she headed down the road, windows down to enjoy the fresh air.

The conversation with her sister played over in her head. She knew she was going to be the only single, thirty-something in the wedding party, but she didn't think she was going to be the only single one at the whole wedding. How could her sister have so many coupled up friends? Didn't California people take things slower with serious relationships?

She turned onto the main road through her little town.

It's not like she hadn't tried dating, it was just something that didn't come easily. Asking various dates what their favorite color was or how many siblings they had could only be interesting for so long before she wanted to pluck her eyeballs out and shove them into her ears. Plus, Catie didn't exactly live in a thriving metropolis where attractive people were available in droves. She lived in the same town she grew up in, with the same people she'd seen through their awkward middle school phases.

Her truck reflected in the shop windows as she passed through the main drag of town. The hardware store, the second hand store, the bank, the coffee shop, and the VFW. A little further out was a gas station/diner combo, a salon, and a four-screen movie theater. The next little town over had more restaurants and even a dollar store.

Catie had never been brave enough to check out the VFW. She knew she had every right, her dad had even encouraged her to go, but it was an uncomfortable feeling. The men that sat in that building playing pool or frying up fish on Fridays had fought in wars. Catie's MOS had been information technology specialist, 25B. She set up cables and routers, secured data, and monitored networks. Yes, she'd done some of that in relatively advanced positions, but she didn't carry a gun and had only worn kevlar a handful of times. She found it unlikely that she'd have anything in common with the grizzly men in a small-town Minnesota VFW.

As she passed the salon, she noticed the sleek, white SUV in its parking lot. She knew Meredith would still be working, the salon was her passion. Pulling into the lot, Catie noticed another car parked there, probably her current client. She hopped out of the truck and stuffed her hands into her pockets as she made her way to the door.

The front of the building was a bit dated, part of an old stripmall that had once held a video rental place and a mattress store; the salon's exterior was nondescript. The inside, however, was sleek and modern, with glossy black chairs and shining mirror lights. Opening the door, Catie found a woman seated in a chair with a magazine across her lap and her hair done up in foils. The woman peered up as she entered and Catie thought she recognized her as a school board member.

A cheery voice rang from the back as the stylist appeared, mixing a bowl of hair color with black plastic gloves on. "I think this is the perfect summer blonde, Irene-" she stopped short when she saw Catie. "Hey there!"

Catie smiled, "Hi Meredith."

Meredith's red hair, not natural, was up in a tight ponytail that swished when she walked and she wore her typical black t-shirt and tight jeans. She had on a black apron that held some scissors and combs and was tied so tightly that Catie could trace every curve of her body. "To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you?" she asked, eyes darting to her client in the chair.

"Uh, my sister's wedding. She wants us all to have the same manicure." Catie tipped her head to flick her short hair out of her eyes and straightened her posture. "It's a specific brand and color."

"Oh! Of course! Gosh, Gweneth Grant walking down the aisle. You're a bridesmaid then?"

"Yup," Catie looked hesitantly at the woman in the chair. "Um, can you help me with my nails before I leave? I fly out Thursday morning, early."

Meredith went to her station and pulled one of the gloves off so she could flick through her phone. "Yeah, what color do you need?"

"It's called 'Misty grey'," Catie replied. "It's Halo brand?"

"Sure sure, I can get that in with my next order," she clicked around on her phone for a minute, muttering to herself. Then offered, "Why don't you come by on Wednesday, that will give you less time to mess it up before the wedding." Her eyes sparkled as she teased.

Catie smirked, "I appreciate the vote of confidence."

"What can I say, I know you. Seven, okay?"

"Yup, seeya then." Catie watched Meredith bend forward to don her glove again and noticed the movement gave an excellent view of her ass in those tight jeans. She knew she'd been caught looking when Meredith gave her a single raised eyebrow upon turning around. Catie felt her face flush a bit before waving and heading back out.

She heard the client in the chair remark, "Oh heavens, you stylists work so hard. Seven A.M. appointments are just too early for me!"

Catie grinned as the door closed behind her. Meredith hadn't meant seven in the morning and they weren't meeting in the salon, but she could hardly say that in front of her client. Catie and Meredith had a special arrangement going since Catie got back from active duty almost seven years before. A few times a year, or whenever one of them was in a particular mood, they'd have hot, casual sex. Meredith's husband was a long-haul trucker who found it incredibly hot that his wife was bisexual. They had a non-monogamous relationship agreement that when he was on the road, both were free to seek some relief with the understanding it was purely carnal.

This agreement, Catie found, was hugely to her benefit, as she got to fuck a beautiful woman without the whole town being in on the secret.

She wasn't sure of her exact label. At thirty-seven, she felt like she was still figuring it out after a sexually repressed education and basically no representation to speak of. Pansexual felt closest to how she related to the world, but her experiences skewed largely 'straight' or 'lesbian'.

Jumping back on the main road, she made the necessary turns to end up at her driveway in an old section of the neighborhood where the houses were small brick builds with one and a half stories. Her little two bedroom was set up comfortably. She'd done a lot of work on the landscaping when she'd moved in and now her yard flourished from May to September.

As she pulled in, the familiar sound of happy barking greeted her.

"I'm coming, I'm coming, hang on Yankee-boy."

Her dog bounded out the door when she unlocked it, a habit she had tried and failed to break him of. His brown fur was ruffled by the wind as he circled her, wagging his tail like his life depended on it.

"Alright you crazy mutt, go pee before it starts storming."

Yankee was, in fact, the smartest dog in the world, so he obeyed, then led the way back into the dark house, tail still going. Catie locked up and turned on some lights. It was starting to get darker out as the thick clouds rolled in. She heard the first few drops of rain hitting the roof as she hopped in the shower to get rid of the grime from her parent's garden.

Dirt from her hands, fingernails, and knees washed down the drain. The soap cut through the grease of sunscreen on her face and shoulders where a few of her summer freckles had already appeared. Her body was sore as she ran her rough hands over it; modest chest, boxy hips, strong legs. Some parts were definitely less perky now, but losing the baby fat from her face had also given her a more distinguished look that she liked.

The water relaxed her muscles and her soul.

When she went to change into some sweats for the night, the garment bag with her bridesmaid dress in it caught on the hoodie she was pulling from her closet. She grimaced at the formal thing as it swung back on the hanger, knowing what lay inside. Floor length, dusty rose satin, with spaghetti straps and a deep v bodice. Catie supposed it was elegant, but it felt foreign when she had tried it on. Dresses, especially satin ones, were not part of her wardrobe, even for the few formal events she had attended in her life. For her senior prom, she'd worn a plain blue, strapless dress that had been immediately donated to the Salvation Army when the event was over. A similar fate lay ahead for the dusty rose number.

Catie pushed the garment bag back into the closet and turned off the light in her room. She went to the kitchen, pulling a beer and a cold sandwich out of her fridge, then curled up on the couch. Yankee hopped up to sprawl across her feet and beg for some of her food in his less-than-subtle way.

The first bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, lighting up the yard outside her bay window.

She wasn't lonely exactly, who could be lonely with a tank of brown fur laying on top of them, but she felt that something was missing.

"It's a good thing you speak human, Yank. Or else I might go truly insane."

He looked at her with his big, brown eyes and huffed.

"Exactly," she agreed, scratching his ears.

_ _

On Wednesday, Catie dressed in her favorite green flannel and cargo pants with a tight, white tank top. She made the short drive out to Meredith's, parking in the yard like always. It was a calm night with clear skies, the sun casting its last few golden rays as she approached the house.