Page 39 of Look on the Bright Side

“After all,” Heather had kindly said to Lark’s mom, “you two were blessed with five kids. We only have Justin.”

It was very generous, and it made Heather happy to take the reins. Mom made a few noises, but she didn’t have the same interest in all things wedding that Heather did. Honestly, Lark didn’t care what the wedding looked like. It would be beautiful, she had no doubt. For now, she just wanted to be in the moment.

Getting through college with a 3.98 had taken a lot of mental energy, and a lot of stress and exhaustion were waiting for her in med school. These early adult days, the “flower of her youth,” as Grandpop said, felt so new and precious, and she didn’t want to rush them. She and Justin had decided to work and save for her medical school for two solid years before marriage, then start a family later, unless a happy accident occurred. She knew one woman, a couple of years ahead of her at BU, who was currently pregnant and in med school, so it could work.

Not one of their former classmates was surprised to hear they were engaged. Lark heard many times that she and Justin were the fairy tale, that they gave those on dating apps hope, that they were what love looked like in real life.

“It’s true,” Justin would say. “The first time I kissed her, I knew. Then I had to wait seven more years to propose. It was hell.”

“It wasn’t exactly hell,” Lark said. “But yeah, I was naming our kids in geometry.” And they’d look at each other and smile, dazzled at their luck, brimming with happiness in the moment and hope for the future.

The months slid by in a happy rhythm. It was nice not to be in school, lovely to be able to go grocery shopping and plan dinners and study for the MCAT. The second year after graduation, they finally set a wedding date—December tenth, more than a year away. Heather hit the ground running, as promised, and first things first—wedding dress shopping. She made an appointment at a posh bridal salon in Boston, rented a limo to bring the female members of the family to Boston. The store was fabulously fancy, and it was just like one of those TV shows. Champagne was passed, and the consultant wanted to hear all about Justin and how they met.

“Kindergarten? Oh, my gosh, how romantic! We have to find you something to match that beautiful love story.”

“I’ll only wear it for a few hours,” Lark said. “No need to break the bank.”

“But it’s special,” Grammy said, smiling. She and Grandpop were picking up the tab on the dress, as she had promised to do for all their granddaughters, and Robbie’s partner, if he ever got one.

Lark would’ve been fine with anything—just a nice dress, really, bought from a department store—but she didn’t fight it, either. This was the first dress her husband would see her in. She would say her vows in this dress, and yes, it should be special.

And so she talked to the consultant about her preferences (simple, comfortable, not too intricate). Addie pawed through racks. Heather, Mom, Grammy and Harlow commiserated over how fast Lark and Justin had grown up, and Winnie stared into the middle distance, trying not to let her boredom show.

“Why don’t we try some of these on?” the consultant said.

“Let’s go, Addie,” Lark said, because of course her twin would be in the dressing room with her.

The consultant had four dresses, plus two that Addison had liked. Addie unzipped the first dress bag, one that she’d picked out.

“Can I help her put it on?” Addie asked the consultant. “We’re twins. This is special for us.”

“Of course, of course. Let me know if you need me.” The consultant smiled and left the two of them alone.

“I just want to say something,” Addie said, her eyes filling with tears. Lark’s, too, immediately welled. They reached for each other’s hands simultaneously, gripping hard. “You’re the best sister, the best person, in the whole world, Larkby. I love you with my whole heart, and…” Her voice thickened. “And if anyone deserves you, it’s Justin. You’ll always be my best friend. We’re two halves of a whole. No one will ever change that.”

“Of course not,” Lark said. “Just because I’ll be someone’s wife doesn’t mean I stop being your twin.”

“I was here first, after all,” Addie said with a watery smile.

“You were. And you were so nice in Mom’s uterus. You always made sure I had enough room.”

“And you always made sure I got enough placenta,” Addie said, and they giggled and hugged and cried a little more. “Now stop crying, you sentimental idiot, and try this dress on.”

Lark took off her flowery dress and stepped into the puddle of fabric. Addie gently guided it up, and Lark slipped her arms through the sleeves. Addie fastened the buttons on the back and fluffed the skirt.

“Oh,” they said in unison, staring into the mirror. For a moment, neither moved. They didn’t even breathe.

“This is the one,” Lark whispered. “This is it. Great job, Addie.” She hugged her sister, and it was hard not to sob with joy, with nostalgia, with love. The wedding wasn’t for sixteen months, but suddenly, she could taste it—the simple, joyful constancy that married life would hold. Just like Grammy and Grandpop. Just like Mom and Dad.

The dress was a classic—pure silk with a wide neckline, three-quarter sleeves, a tiny bow at the waist, princess skirt. Grace Kelly would have looked quite at home in it. Lark had never seen herself look so…adult. So gorgeous, so much herself, and yet so much more.

“Well done,” the consultant said, a little misty herself. “Let’s go show the crowd.”

Everyone gasped as she came in, and Mom burst into tears. “Oh, Lark! My little girl! You’re so beautiful!” They hugged, Lark’s eyes streaming again.

“Well, that was easy,” Harlow said. “I’m guessing this is one of Addie’s choices.”

“It is,” Addie said proudly. “I know my sister.”

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