“I do wish Nana was here,” Lanie says on a sigh. “Though I’m sure she played a part in this with her matchmaking skills. Without her attention to detail, Ryan and I would’ve never met.”
Shaking her head, Sloane adds, “True. That woman always planned for everything… even after her death. Who the heck plans for a home renovation nearly a year later?”
“Nana,” we all say as we burst into laughter.
“Well, you and your killer coat hanger must’ve done a number on Ryan because here you are, getting married on Saturday.” I love the story of how they met. It will go down in history as epic.
“I think it had more to do with the fact she chewed him out in her undies than the coat hanger,” Lizzy deadpans.
“Hey now,” Lanie chides. “I thought theTexas Chainsaw Massacrewas coming to get me. I had to do what it took to stay safe.”
It’s Sloane’s turn to tease. She throws an arm around Lanie’s waist and pulls her in for a side hug, and they make eye contact through the mirror. “Whatever makes you feel safe, Lane.”
When the laughter dies down, Lanie turns to look at us. “I wish Mom’s flight hadn’t been delayed. I guess she’ll have to wait until my big day to see this in person.”
There’s plenty of time for her to make it here before Saturday, but it’s an added stress for everyone, nonetheless.
“Mom won’t miss your big day,” Sloane assures her. “Hell, I’m sure if she hadn’t gotten a flight for tomorrow, she would’ve rented a car and driven all the way to Oregon.”
Looking to each of us in our bridesmaid dresses, she smiles widely, effectively changing the subject. “I love these dresses on you.”
“We do look pretty spectacular,” I admit, turning to look at myself in the mirror.
Each of us have a deep burgundy dress that’s the same shade, but in a style that fits our personality. I love that Lanie let us choose a dress we’d feel comfortable in and resemble each other, but not scream matchy-matchy. Maybe it’s a twin thing but being dressed in the same exact clothes growing up is fun when you’re six, not so much at nearly twenty-two.
Mine, for example, has a swoop over one shoulder, leaving the other bare, and crosses in the back, making me feel edgy, yet sophisticated at the same time. Sloane’s is the traditional sleeveless with a V-neck bodice, while Lizzy’s has the cutest halter that accents her tanned, toned shoulders perfectly. How each dress ties together from the way the bodice snuggly fits us, that leads to a sash tying at our waist and flowing into an A-line skirt, which drops to the floor. The dresses are like Lanie’s, so they end right before our feet and don’t drag on the ground. The difference between our dress and Lanie’s is that they each have a slit up the side, that is not only functional, but makes me feel sexy as my leg peeks out of the silky material when I walk.
Stella, the shop owner, returns from helping another customer. “Is there anything you see needing changed or fixed?”
“No…” Lanie says, looking to each of us. “I think we’re good.”
“Great. Take your time. I’ll get these dresses bagged up for you, and you can be on your way when you’re ready.”
At that moment, Lizzy’s stomach rumbles. “Mind if we eat before digging into decorations?”
“Not at all. Let’s grab some lunch at the Sea Breeze Café,” Lanie suggests as Stella unbuttons her dress.
“Mmmm…. I need a bowl of their clam chowder,” Sloane says from behind the curtain of a private dressing room. “I haven’t had decent chowder since last summer.”
The Sea Breeze Café is famous for their chowder. I’m convinced what makes it the best is the melted butter they put in before serving. “Thanks, Sloaney,” I whine as my stomach growls in anticipation. “Now I’m craving that, too.” Making us all laugh.
“If my calculations are correct,we need six more and we’ll be done,” Sloane says, counting the centerpieces in the middle of our kitchen table.
We’re using pint-sized mason jars filled with fairy lights as a vase to put paper roses from Lanie’s favorite books. Thanks to Ryan, when Sloane told him her plans, he helped out big time by reaching out to his best friend Vince. He pulled some strings to get us some copies of Charlotte Ann’s books. Not only is Charlotte one of Lanie’s favorite authors, she and Ryan met her on one of their first dates at a local book signing.
Apparently, it’s a small world. Vince’s twin sister, Vanessa, is married to Charlotte’s brother. Now, thanks to these six degrees of separation, we’re the proud owners of some of Charlotte’s paperbacks, at very little cost to us.
“I absolutely love these roses,” Lanie says, folding the paper Sloane has precut, “but it still feels blasphemous… cutting up Charlotte’s work.”
“One, you already have a copy of this book,” Sloane reminds her pointedly. “Besides that, the cover was damaged, and it’s a book Charlotte couldn’t sell. If it makes you feel any better, we only took apart thisonebook for the entire reception. Thanks to Charlotte’s ability to write thick stories, many books were spared.”
The front door swings open, and Mable’s unique voice rumbles throughout the house as she singsongs, “Hello, Hello… Who’s ready for some dinner?”
“We’re in the kitchen,” Lanie replies, keeping her focus on the flower.
Mable saunters into the room, and Dad and the guys follow her. Mable’s renting a summer cottage a few streets away. She insisted on needing her downtime before the wedding and wouldn’t hear of staying with us; she claimed she’d only be in the way. Apparently, she invited Mom to stay with her this week, so it’s one less thing to worry about for everyone. She must’ve been cooking for a while because Dad, Ryan, and Jax all have containers with food in them.
“Mable, you didn’t have to cook. We could’ve fixed something here,” Sloane admonishes as she jumps to her feet to grab the dish from our aunt.
