Shane smirks. “Don’t forget the ‘co.”

Alice straightens, hands on Carmen’s shoulders, eyes shining. “Co or not, whatever you need. So—does that mean Bette and I get to plan the bachelorette party together?”

The newly engaged pair exchange a glance. Shane shrugs. “That’s the thing—we can’t decide what the party should even look like.”

Carmen lifts her chin, her fingers brushing a stray curl from her face. “I see petals—soft pink roses strewn across every tablecloth, crystal flutes filled with tulip-shaped pours of rosé, tiny porcelain plates heaped with cucumber-dill finger sandwiches. Soft music playing…”

Bette pulls the steaks from the grill, the meat steaming on the cutting board. She tilts her head, eyebrows raised. “So, you want a fucking teatime bachelorette party?”

Carmen smiles. “Heavy on the wine, but yeah—something like that.”

Tina leans forward. “Honestly, that sounds lovely.”

Bette chuckles and racks the grill grate. “Sounds like a snooze fest…”

Shane cocks her head, points at Bette, and laughs. “Thank you.” She lifts her beer in a mock toast. “I was thinking more along the lines of whiskey flights, a few cigars, shots, loud music….”

Carmen folds her arms. “Strippers…” She says as she lifts her brows.

Shane holds her hands up in surrender. “I didn’t say that…. nobody said anything about strippers…. but if my best woman just so happens to plan for strippers….”

Bette laughs and shakes her head. “Nope. Don’t put me in it….”

Carmen rolls her eyes dramatically, then bites her lower lip. “I don’t care if you have strippers. This is our send-off. We should both get what we want. I wouldn’t mind one or two at my party either… but all that other shit you said? No, thank you…”

Shane exhales a long, theatrical sigh and shrugs both shoulders. “See? There’s no middle ground….”

Bette shrugs. “So why not just have two separate parties?”

Alice flares her nostrils. “What? That ain’t gonna work. How would we choose who goes where? We’re all family.”

Bette tilts her chin up, hands on her hips. “Did Shane’s whiskey-and-cigars bash sound like something you’d want to attend?”

Alice huffs, folding her arms. “Hell no…”

Bette grins. “So, there you have it. We’ll take a poll. Who’s in for Carmen’s wine-and-roses tea gala?”