Page 56 of Thick and Thin

“Hmm. Let’s see. I had a variety of options for what to do with my day…”

Sinclair said, “Emma’s here, baby. She said she needs to see you.”

Smiling, I said, “Please have her come in.” She’d already been in my room for an hour that morning, helping me to look even more beautiful than she had the night I’d gone to the ballet with Sinclair and his family. And she’d promised that, even if I cried, my makeup wasn’t going anywhere. She even gave me the remover I’d need to take it off that night.

Sinclair said, “See you soon.”

Shortly after, Emma rapped sharply on the door and opened it right after, saying, “Knock, knock!” I was still close to the door, so I took another step back. “Are you ready for the veil?”

“I think so.”

I sat in the chair we’d brought in for the occasion where we’d placed it next to the dresser, still full of cosmetics and products that Emma had used to transform my look. I was still me underneath it all, but with her help, my face was fairer, my lashes longer, my lips pinker.

I looked like a woman.

Like when she’d worked on my hair so that it was pulled from my face but flowing down my back, I was able to watch her work. The veil was attached to a lovely tiara and would not have to be lifted from my face—and, for that, I was glad, because my eyes already felt heavy from the lashes.

Once she had it secured on my head, she said, “You are absolutely perfect. Do you need anything else?”

“I’m fine. I just feel really nervous.”

“Just know that, even if you sweat, you’ll still look as elegant and fresh as you do right now.”

That wasn’t comforting but I smiled just the same.

Just as she was leaving, Edna appeared. “I promise I won’t be long, dear, but I wanted to give you something.” Once she’d shut the door behind her, she opened a small box, revealing a light blue garter belt. “I know you’re not superstitious…and I guess I’m not either, but I wanted to do something for you anyway.”

“We won’t be throwing a garter belt,” I said, remembering all the wedding traditions the planner had gone over with Sinclair and me to see what we wanted to incorporate.

“I know—and that’s the only reason why I’m doing this.” Taking the garter belt out of the box, she said, “You’ve heard that old rhyme Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue? Well, you’ve got all four right here. This garter belt was given to me by my mother, and I wore it at my wedding, so it’s old. But at my wedding and now for yours, I had to have new elastic put in it so it would actually hug your thigh. That’s the new. And if you give it back to me, then you’re only borrowing it.”

“And, of course, it’s blue.”

“Exactly. So, like I said, even though I’m not superstitious, I just like the idea that we’re covering all the bases here. Just in case.”

I agreed with her and, as soon as she left, I slid it up my thigh, a trick with that snug skirt. Moments later, Emma reappeared with my bouquet, a spray of lovely-smelling white roses. Once she and I had descended the stairs, we met my matron of honor—Vivian, who would soon be my sister-in-law—already in the blue dress we’d chosen for her. Her daughters Olivia and Evelyn were also there in their blue dresses for their roles as flower girls. Vivian and I hugged and talked, but I wouldn’t remember even a snippet of the conversation later, because I was nearly shaking.

It wasn’t because of Sinclair. I was more sure of him than anything in my life.

It was all the people out there I’d never met.

We’d invited some of my father’s relatives who lived on the east coast, but they weren’t going to make it…so, other than Sinclair’s immediate family and a few of his employees—and my father, of course—I didn’t know a soul.

The kitchen was busy, crowded mostly with catering staff, and it wasn’t long before one of the wedding planner’s staff came to get the girls and Vivian so they could walk down the aisle before me. Keeping it all in the family, Augie was the best man and their son was the ringbearer. I worried that Warren might feel miffed about it all, but he’d told Sinclair and me that he was happy to not have that responsibility. He could then drink as much as he wanted—but when Sinclair frowned at the suggestion, Warren laughed and told him he’d be on his best behavior.

But then, in March, he’d made another suggestion: he wanted to officiate the wedding. Their father blew up at the idea—and Sinclair and I had our reservations—but we ultimately said yes. Sinclair wanted to develop a better relationship with his family—his brothers, at least, if his father wasn’t interested—and he thought this would be a good step, showing trust and good faith. And, when we’d practiced the day before, Warren had impressed us both. He’d gone to the trouble of becoming an officiant through an online church, and that had sent their father into an apoplectic fit when Warren had talked about it during our rehearsal wedding.

But one of the planner’s staff, probably seeing the expression on my face, pulled me aside and told me that if the rehearsal went poorly, that usually meant the wedding would be a success. As that same staff member came to get me this morning, I remembered it, putting on a smile in an effort to hide my anxiety. I supposed having my future father-in-law lose his temper could constitute a bad rehearsal. As long as he behaved today, I’d be pleased.

But I was still anxious.

Why was I so nervous? It wasn’t because of Sinclair. I knew without a doubt that he was and would always be the man for me.

Again, it was all the people.

So I had to put them out of my mind.

The assistant and I paused in the main hallway, waiting for a signal from someone else—probably to keep me from being seen by almost everyone until it was time. Really, though, Sinclair was the main one who needed to wait.

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