Lori stared at her lap. They hadn't even gotten on the plane yet, and already her sundress was a mass of wrinkles.
She'd been warned.
"Oh, that won't travel well," her mom had said when Lori came downstairs for breakfast that morning.
Gram had barely glanced up from flipping pancakes to add, "Why don't you wear one of those outfits your mother bought you?"
That was all Lori needed to hear.
"No," she said. "I want to wear this."
She hated the way she sounded saying that -- like she was four, not fourteen. Gram only made it worse.
"She's so proud of making that dress in 4-H last year. Won an...