Page 8 of Dr. Intern

Mom flicks her free hand dismissively. “Of course I can. And afterward, we can return to the condo to watch Real Housewives, just like old times.”

I give Cassidy a knowing wink, recalling our first meeting. Parker brought her to the lake house for a romantic getaway, not knowing Mom and I had plans to watch reality shows and drink wine up there the same weekend. I almost fell on the floor from shock when my brother came down the stairs shirtless, making some sexually deviant comment about my perfect future sister-in-law.

But seriously, she is perfect.

Cass is gorgeous, smart, funny, and kind—I couldn’t ask for a better sister. Not that my actual sister, Caroline, lacks those qualities, but Caroline is much more like Parker. The two of them gang up on me and suck the fun out of most of the things we do, so Cass brings the perfect balance.

“Caroline’s going to be so jealous,” I squeal, delighting in the fact that I get to experience this with the two of them. “I’m totally scoring major points for maid of honor.”

Cassidy rolls her hazel eyes. “We’ll just have to video call her then. Everyone gets a say in the dress choice, it’s only fair.”

“But my opinion is the most important, right?” I tease, batting my lashes at her.

“Ahem,” Mom clears her throat, drawing our attention to her. “I believe the person footing the bill has the most important opinion.”

Leaning in closer to Cassidy, I whisper, “Yes, followed by your favorite sister.”

Cassidy’s reddened cheeks transform into a crimson color, like she’s trying hard to remain diplomatic. “You’ve got to stop saying that, Claire. I love both you and Caroline equally.”

“Don’t worry,” I reply, ignoring her comment since I know the truth. “I promise not to make you try anything too outrageous. Just feathers, and sequins, and all the tulle in the world.”

“Be careful,” she warns, her gaze narrowing on mine. “Remember, I’m in charge of what you wear as part of the bridal party.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Cassidy raises an eyebrow, in a playful challenge. “Try me.”

Mom chuckles at our banter. “I think I’m going to need to sleep for days after this.”

Chapter 3

Claire

The wedding dress shop is nestled on a quiet street in Buckhead, the bougiest part of Atlanta. Because of the intimate nature of the store, we’re the only people with an appointment this morning. I think Mom must have pulled a few strings to get us in on such short notice, because this seems like the kind of place where everyone would want to shop for their wedding.

Hundreds of dresses line the walls, including some from the most famous designers in the industry. I immediately notice one of my favorites from an Australian designer in the window, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint that I have to not sprint over and run the delicate fabric through my fingers. I’ve always been into shopping and fashion, so this place is like paradise for me.

I’m glad that Mom gave me a heads-up on the vibe of the store because I would’ve felt very out of place in my everyday athleisure. While I love nice things, there’s not really a reason to get dressed up when we’re only leaving the condo to go to the hospital. Most of my regular clothes are back in Virginia, but I somehow managed to pull together leather leggings, an oversized toffee-colored sweater, and black booties. While it’s not my best ‘fit, at least I don’t stand out like a sore thumb.

As we enter the boutique, an elegant woman welcomes us with glasses of champagne. She’s dressed in an all-white pantsuit and appears only slightly older than my mother. “Hello, ladies. Who is the lucky bride-to-be?”

Mom is quick to respond, her head leaning affectionately on Cassidy’s shoulder. “This one right here.”

“Perfect, I’m Helen,” the woman introduces herself. “Let’s take a seat, and I’ll walk you through our unique process. Dress shopping can be quite the adventure, and we like to make it as seamless as possible.” She gestures to the white leather chairs in front of us, and we follow.

Cass and I help Mom sit down between us, holding her arms tight to make sure she doesn’t fall. The chemotherapy from yesterday seems to have taken its toll, leaving her noticeably weaker, and it’s hard not to worry. After we returned home last night, I was on the verge of calling Cassidy, overwhelmed with the need to talk to someone who could understand.

We both tried to convince her to postpone the appointment this morning, but Mom refused, adamant that she was just tired from the night before. Though, now that I think about it, that makes no sense because we went to bed around nine last night.

Helen takes a moment to explain that she’s going to ask us some questions before pulling a few dresses that she feels would be the best.

“Now, Cassidy, what style bodice are you looking for?”

Before she can answer, I pipe up. “Definitely something to show off her curves. She has the hottest ‘bod.”

Mom squeezes my hand, probably trying to get me to reign in my excitement.

“I was thinking of an A-line dress. Is that what you call it?” Cass asks, her face flushing slightly.

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