Page 77 of Make Me Want it Too

Bex screams and slaps Livvy on the knee. “Oh my god, yes! I love that for you.”

“Okay, enough of that. Here’s the next one.” Livvy pushes her shoulders back, straightening, and goes back to the snooty voice. “‘Olivia. Please help me get through to your sister. She has been drinking too much. I’m concerned. Also, it’s classless. Mom.’”

“Ugh,” Bex grunts. “She’s the reason I’m drinking. She keeps asking me about what’s going to be said during the ceremony, and if it’s a real priest or one of those people who got ordained online and that it’s not too late to find a church.” Bex drinks the rest of her third mimosa.

“She’s going extra crazy because Dad is flying in tomorrow,” Livvy adds.

“One more night before the shit show really begins. Let’s enjoy it.” Bex pours the rest of the champagne into her glass, not bothering with the orange juice this time.

Tonight is black tie. Orchestra. Fancy.

I eye the dress hanging from the bathroom door. It’s the only fancy dress I own. Sundresses? Plenty of them. Even cocktail dresses and that one nice jumpsuit? Totally. Got it. But black tie? No. And I don’t exactly have the means or desire to spend a bunch of money on a dress that will gather dust in my closet.

So, it’s this cornflower blue silk taffeta dress from when I was a bridesmaid at my sister’s wedding…ten years ago, at the age of sixteen. I’m amazed it still fits. In those ten years I’ve worn it to one other wedding and one upscale Bat Mitsvah.

I’m freshly showered and shaved and, luckily, was able to do my makeup in a way I’m mostly happy with. But my hair, as usual, is not cooperating at all. I’m trying to put it in an up-do, but curls keep escaping, one sticking straight up, defying gravity.

I take out a bobby pin and try to put it back in over the rogue lock of hair, but it just sticks up in a different, weird way behind it. I take it back out. Then another bobby pin. Then two more and throw them down on the sink.

“Everything all right in here?”

“Yes.” No.

I peek around the door to Wood having just walked in the room, shutting the door behind him and carrying a floor length garment bag on a hanger.

“Is that your tux for tonight?” I thought there was already one hanging up in the closet, but maybe that’s for the wedding and this is a different one.

“No, this is for you.”

“Is it my maid of honor dress?”

“It’s for tonight. You mentioned not liking your dress, so I thought I might surprise you with a new one.”

“I don’t remember mentioning my dress.”

“It was a couple days ago. I ordered it the next morning. It just barely arrived in time, but Walter made it happen.”

I’m frozen in the doorway, blinking at the garment bag. “You got me a dress?”

He shrugs. “I thought it would look nice on you.”

I step toward him as he unzips the bag to reveal a gorgeous emerald green dress. I get closer to touch it. It’s dripping in beads and lace details around the bodice.

It’s beyond amazing and then my vision is blurry and my cheeks are wet before I even know what’s happening.

“Shit. You hate it. It’s okay. You don’t have to wear it?—”

“No.” I look up to Wood, worry etched in his forehead. “I love it,” I say. “I love it so much.” The tears keep coming and now I’m ruining my makeup—the only thing that had been going well for me.

“What’s wrong?”

“Now my makeup’s a mess and my hair is ridiculous, and there’s no way a dress that pretty should be on me.”

“Mace.” Wood’s voice is soft as he lays the dress on the bed and comes to me. He slides his hand around my back and holds me to his chest.

After a few minutes I’m settled, but I don’t want to pull away. Mascara marks his T-shirt.

“I think this is the fifth shirt of yours I’ve ruined,” I hiccup.

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