There’s no other form, but luckily no one asks what it is.
Paul thanks me and leaves.
Eden watches him go.
I want to tell herThere’s something wrong.
But on top of the fact that I owe my siblings this wedding, unimpeded, she has absolutely no reason to believe a word I say. I’m Public Enemy Number One to her.
Instead I say, “You didn’t tell him who I am.”
“You’re the wedding planner. That’s all he needs to know.” She shrugs. “No point in making him hate you, too.” She scowls at me. “Where’s the form?”
“No form,” I say. “I just wanted to ask you if Paul knew that you and I know each other.”
“We don’t know each other,” she says. “You don’t know anything about me.”
She picks up her purse and leaves.
I lean back in Hanna’s chair and exhale for what feels like the first time in an hour.
It’s good that Eden hates me. The worst thing in the world would be if Eden’s mouth curved in a small, pleased smilefor me.
Then I might?—
I might?—
I don’t know what, exactly, I would do.
But luckily, she hates me, so there’s no danger of that.
I want to pick up one of the pretty knickknacks on Hanna’s desk and hurl it against the wall.
4
Eden
My wedding day arrives after a night of little sleep and a morning of barely eaten breakfast.
It’s normal to be so excited before your wedding you can’t sleep or eat,everyone assures me.
And I amsoexcited. After the pain of my divorce, it’s lovely to know that by the end of today, officially and for the rest of my life, I won’t be alone again.
For a girl who’s been left as often as I have, that’s huge.
The space where I’m getting married is actually an enormous converted barn, and the hayloft has been split into a groom’s room and a bride’s room. The brightly lit, mostly white bride’s room has skylights and big windows that look out onto the gorgeous Hott property—a former ranch.
The decor is ranch chic—wooden beams, a sliding barn door at the entry, cowboy hats and ropes hanging on the walls, leather touches and accents of cow-print upholstery. One wall is a continuous dressing table with mirrors.
My gown hangs from a beautiful carved-wood stand. It’s a shimmering white mermaid dress with elaborate beading that I love as much today as I did when I first laid eyes on it.
“You ready to put it on?” Mari asks, following my gaze. She’s not only my friend and maid of honor but also one of Hanna’s many sisters-in-law.
I nod, feeling an unexpected sense of awe. The hairdresser and the makeup artist just left. The photographer has already snapped a thousand photos of me. It’s go time.
Mari helps me into the dress. It has to slip on over my feet; I step into it carefully, and she shimmies it up around my body.
“Oh my God, Eden, you look amazing!” she cries.
