Page 95 of Wedlocked

“No, I didn’t get the chance to meet her. But you loved her. And so did Rush. That makes her family.”

I started sewing again.

“I have a brother,” she said.

“You do?” I asked, surprised.

“Yeah. When my dad left my mom when I was little, he took my brother with him. I haven’t seen him since. I probably wouldn’t even know him if I saw him today.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sometimes I miss him,” she confessed. “Is that strange?”

I thought about it for a moment. “No. Maybe it’s not so much him you miss but the idea of him. Knowing he’s out there somewhere but unreachable. Like the idea that I’ll never be able to be at my sister’s wedding. I miss her… and I also miss the memories we’ll never have.”

Her arm went up, and it looked like she was patting her eyes. I didn’t acknowledge it because then I’d have to acknowledge my own were dangerously close to watering.

“I’m glad we’ll have this memory,” she whispered. “Of you sewing blue buttons on my gown, filling a void I didn’t realize was there until now.”

I breathed deep and focused on the task. Minutes later, all three buttons were secured, and I laid aside the needle. “Let me make sure they line up with the clasps.”

Neither of us said anything when I did up the buttons with trembling fingers. The entire time, I prayed everything came together because my sister deserved it.

Not my sister. Jess.

When they were done, I smoothed the lace and then gave it a tug, testing the buttons. They stayed in place, the fabric staying smooth.

“The blue adds character,” I commented, stepping back. “All done.”

Gathering the skirt, she went into the bathroom to look in the large mirror over the sinks. A moment later, I heard her indrawn breath. “Oh, it’s perfect. Better than I imagined.”

There was some light sniffling. Then she appeared, smoothing the skirt to stand straight. “What do you think?” she asked. “From a designer point of view.”

“From a designer perspective,” I began. “It’s very classic and delicate. It fits your frame perfectly.”

“Really?” she asked.

“From a brother’s point of view, I’d say you look very beautiful and Kruger is lucky.”

Her face scrunched up, and she ran over to throw her arms around me. I hugged her back, feeling both broken and healed at the same time.

I never would have known those things could be simultaneous, but these past six months had taught me otherwise.

She pulled back, swiping at her eyes, and then smiled. “Thank you so much for doing this, Bodhi.”

“You’re welcome.” I glanced at the gift bag on the table.

Her eyes followed mine, then returned.

“So at the risk of ruining this moment,” I said, reaching for the gift to extend it, “I got you a wedding gift.”

Her eyes widened. “That is so sweet of you! You know Ben and I don’t expect it. Just having everyone here is more than enough.”

“It’s not for Kruger,” I said. Then, “Well, it is. But maybe you could open it now?”

“Without Ben?”

“I think that would be for the best.”

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