Amy was beyond thrilled about the party and wouldn't stop chattering about it. Crissy was...terrified. She let Amy talk most days, and didn't really say much in response. She attempted to do what had never failed her in the past: bury her problems in food. But the anxiety continued to build.

Two days before the party, Amy slid into the kitchen, a grin splitting her face from ear to ear.

"We should go shopping," she declared. "Tomorrow."

Crissy cast a wary sideways glance at her. "You know how I feel about shopping, Amy."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, it sucks, but Quinn is totally hot and I hate to break it to you, bestie, but you totally need some new outfits."

Crissy returned her attention back to icing pink hearts onto three dozen sugar cookies. "I don't need a new outfit, it's a casual thing."

Amy came up behind Crissy, wrapped her arms around Crissy's waist and rested her cheek against Crissy's back.

"Okay then let's go shopping to have a day out, just you and me. We haven't had that in a long time."

"We work together every day. This whole shop is run by just you and me."

"But it's not OUR shop. Bert drops in every once in a while to sniff around us, scowl, grunt a few times, and walk out. So technically, we never really get to relax."

Crissy pinched Amy's arm and Amy whimpered in protest. "He's an old man, you should be more respectful. This shop has been in his family for years, he can come in here any time he wants to and talk or not talk as much as he likes."

"I hate it when you're diplomatic and all grown-up like that."

"One of us has to be mature around here."

Amy gave a mock gasp and stole one of the sugar cookies. Crissy attempted to swat her hand away but the cookie had already disappeared into Amy's mouth.

"Please, Cris?" Amy pleaded. "We could go see a movie and throw popcorn at each other. And we could get cinnamon rolls."

Crissy hesitated, the packet of icing hovering in midair above the cookies. She had never been able to resist a cinnamon roll in her entire life, and Amy knew it.

"Only if we go pajama shopping too," Crissy said. "If I have to wear some outfit you put me in, I want something comfortable at the end of the day."

Amy squealed and almost tackled Crissy in a tight hug. "Deal!"

[][][]

The day Amy and Crissy were to go shopping, Crissy had given up on sleep, choosing to spend the night in the kitchen, testing and adjusting recipes as needed. It was the only way she could stop herself from feeling sick from the nerves for the impending party.

Sometime around five o'clock, Crissy had recipes, flour, and sugar spread all over the coffee shop's kitchen counter. She never got this messy when she was baking during the day, but the chaos matched her thoughts and she couldn't bring herself to care at the moment. The phone rang and she absentmindedly reached out for it, never looking up from her scrapbook of recipes.

"Good morning, Cristina."

Crissy went rigid, closed her eyes and stifled a sigh at the sound of her mother's clipped business-like tone.

"Good morning to you too, Mom," she said as she rummaged through the mess on the counter to find her watch. "Uhm...why are you calling at five in the morning? Is everything okay?"

"Oh yes, fine, fine," her mother said, brushing her off in a rush. She was always in a rush, even when Crissy was little. "I just called because there was something I needed to talk to you about."

Crissy waited but her mother showed no signs of continuing and Crissy knew she wouldn't, not until Crissy asked.

"Well?" her mother demanded, her short fuse snapped in the two seconds it took for Crissy to pause and take a breath. "You hardly ever call, and here I am about to tell you something very important and you don't show the slightest interest..."

"Mom," Crissy cut in, forcing her voice to remain as neutral as possible. "What is it that you wanted to talk to me about?"

Crissy could feel her mother's mood shift as her mother's voice softened.

"It's about Andrea."

Crissy rolled her gaze towards the ceiling. It was always about Andrea. They were practically cloned images of each other, her mother and Andrea. Lean, tan, sharp, and a charming personality that sucked in any poor, naïve, unsuspecting person they came across.

Now that her mother had started spilling her information she so desperately wanted to share at five in the morning, she wasn't about to stop, regardless of whether or not Crissy showed any interest.

"I believe Ken's going to pop the question this weekend," her mother continued. "And you know Andrea, she'll be impatient to get married so of course the engagement will be short."

"How do you know this, Mom? Andrea and Ken have been dating for eight years. Why would they get engaged now?"

"Because," her mother said, the word bitten off as her agitation returned, "Ken asked for my blessing yesterday."

"Ah," Crissy nodded.

A pause, stiff and awkward, scraped by.

"May I continue now?" her mother said.

Crissy began packing up her scrapbook, sliding her recipes into the pages and tying it closed, cleaning up the kitchen. Even though her mother wasn't in the room, she still couldn't stand feeling so exposed with the mess around her. Besides, her mother could practically sense when Crissy was being untidy, even if she couldn't see it.

"Yes, please," she said.

"As I was saying, we'll have to prepare for the wedding as soon as possible."

"I can get together a menu if you'd like..."

"No, no, not you, Cristina, I already have a caterer. You're going to be far too busy to be in the kitchen. I don't know if you'll be a bridesmaid or not, Andrea has so many friends she'll want to ask of course, but you'll at least have to mingle with other family members during the reception. You can't be hiding in the kitchen all the time. I won't allow it."

Crissy gritted her teeth and held the phone away from her ear, willing herself to swallow the burning words that had flooded to the tip of her tongue.

Instead, she said, "Yes, Mom."

"Oh, and I'll be starting a new diet and exercise regime tomorrow, because you know these things take time. I'll send you the information so you can get started on it, too. Andrea needs to lose at least five pounds and you'll need to lose more, I'm sure, since you insist on working at that coffee shop which must be horrible for your health."

Crissy's fingers went white as she tightened her grip on the phone. She pressed her lips together, willing herself to not let her mother's ramblings get to her. It had always been like this. Her mother knew the exact words, the exact phrases, to get a reaction out of Crissy. And Crissy had long ago learned how to shut down. The less she said, the less her mother had to use against her.

"But of course I'm your mother and you don't want to listen to me. So I'll send you that diet information next week sometime. And Cristina, don't you dare breathe a word of this to Andrea. She suspects Ken's intentions, but I won't have you spoiling it for her."

"I won't say anything," Crissy said. "I'll be pretty busy with orders for the holidays anyway and..."

"Yes, yes, but you won't be too busy for your sister. If she calls to share the good news, act excited. At least try to be happy for her."

Crissy's mouth opened and closed for a second, working out a response, but before she could come up with anything, her mother rushed on.

"I have to go. I have three meetings scheduled this afternoon with clients. A bank doesn't just run itself, even with a daughter getting married. Remember, Christina, not a word to Andrea."

After Crissy hung up the phone, she took a deep breath for the first time since the conversation had started. Her hands were shaking as she braced herself against the counter. A flurry of emotions was at war within her. Anger, shame, guilt...

She dialed Amy's number, her sole lifeline in this mess. Amy picked up on the third ring with a garbled grunt of a greeting.

"Why do I always feel like I've been sucker punched in the stomach after every conversation with my mother?" Crissy asked.

Amy was wide awake now, with the rustling of fabric on the other end of the line, punctuated by soft words then the click of a door.

"Cris, no, you didn't pick up the phone, did you?" she asked.

"I'm sorry, Amy, I didn't even think about it. I know I promised I'd check caller ID first but I just...I was so caught up with the party on Saturday and I'm freaking out and I just wanted to bake until the stress went away and then the phone rang and I thought it was you and it wasn't and my sister's getting married and Mom wants me to go on a diet because I'm too fat..."

"Hold up," Amy cut in. "She brought up the diet gig again? That bitch."

"Amy," Crissy warned, though her voice was tired and the warning fell limp and flat.

"What?" Amy demanded, indignant. "I get it, she's your mom, but she doesn't have to talk to you like that."

Crissy sighed and sank down onto a stool next to the counter, pressing a palm to her forehead.

"I shouldn't have woken you up, this could have waited."

"No, I'm glad you did. I'll be there in a few minutes, just let me find my boots..."

"Amy, wait, you should sleep a little while longer. Spend some time with Manu before your shift starts."

"I just spent the whole night with Manu. He's a big boy, he can deal with me leaving a little earlier for work to spend time with my best friend when she's been through the wringer."

"I haven't been through the wringer..."

Amy paused. "Cris," she said, her voice quieter this time. "I want to be there with you. I want to take you out on the town and we'll eat tons of crappy food and focus on the fantastic party you're going to on Saturday. I don't want your mom screwing anything up for you."

Crissy smiled and let her head dip a little as she closed her eyes. "Thank you, Amy. You're the best."

"You bet I am," she chirped. "Be there in three minutes. And then we're totally starting our day with cinnamon rolls."