Emmie was over by the closet, carefully pulling the dress from its garment bag and hanging it on the cracked-open door. “Dress is ready,” she said. She plucked at the skirt with a frown. “It might need steaming, though, on second thought.”
“I brought the steamer,” Raven said. “It’s in the bag over there.”
Joanna came up to stand behind Cass, bending at the waist so their faces were on a level in the mirror. She smiled. “You look beautiful. Are you excited?”
“Very.” But she also wanted to throw up. Her smile wobbled. What was wrong with her?
Another knock sounded, and she heard Axelle say, “Hey, no boys allowed.”
“Good thing I haven’t been one of those for a while,” Charlie shot back, and Cass glanced up above Joanna’s head in the mirror to see him slip into the room. “Damn. It smells like hairspray in here.”
“Close,” Raven instructed, and put a hand up to shield Cass’s eyes anyway before she let loose with the aerosol can again. “Come over here and I’ll fix that electrocuted cat you call a haircut,” she said to Charlie.
Eden laughed.
“Traitor,” he accused, distinct note of fondness in his voice.
“Seriously, dude,” Axelle said. “Get lost.”
“It’s only bad luck for the groom to see her before the wedding.”
Joanna drew back to make room for Charlie, who came to take her place. He peered critically at their side-by-side reflections.
“Are you wearing false eyelashes?”
She batted them. “Maybe.”
“It looks—”
Raven shot hair spray at him.
He sputtered and drew back, swiping at his face. “Oh, fuck off.”
Raven smiled, bobby pins sticking out of her clenched teeth like daggers. “No.Youfuck off.”
“I’ll just go see how the other girls are doing!” Joanna called, high and awkward as she fled the room.
“See?” Axelle said. “You’ve frightened the normie, Charles.”
“Me?” He spit in his hand and scrubbed at his temple with his fingertips. “Raven’s the one trying to blind people with Pantene.”
“Pantene?” Raven scoffed. She gestured to herself: perfectly-coiffed hair, flawless makeup, pale blue dress shimmering like a clear mountain spring. “Do you honestly think I use hair products you can buy at the grocery store?”
“I think you’re a bloody snob,” he said, but fondly. “I also think I’m taking a lot of abuse for a man who’s brought Cass a present all the way from London.”
Cass, trying to decide if hair spray had gotten into her champagne—most likely—paused in the act of sitting forward to set it on the dresser. “A present?”
Fox sent her a sly look via their reflections and gave a sharp, two-note whistle.
In the mirror, she watched the door swing open, and in stepped—
“Phil!”
Raven pulled back as Cass scrambled up and out of her chair. She caught her flip-flop on the leg of the thing and stumbled, but Charlie righted her with a fast grip on her arm andsteered her Phillip’s direction, his smile the sort of quiet, private little showing of joy he didn’t let most people see.
Devin’s oldest child had the sort of face that was aging with great dignity, the lines and sun spots adding character; he looked good with gray hair, his forehead pleasing enough that no one seemed to notice his hairline retreating year by year. On him, Devin’s blue eyes were warm and kind, as was the smile he bestowed upon Cass as she reached him and wrapped her arms around his middle. He hugged her back as he always had, as if she was small and fragile and he was afraid he might crush her.
“Hello, lovely,” he said, and kissed the top of her head. “You look very pretty. All grown up.”
