Page 82 of Love and Other Trials
The men were working and ensuring the wedding site was going to be spick-and-span. Now all she had to do was drive Tiffany to the seamstress and hope against hope she loved the alterations. Because they didn’t have any other choice—or so she would tell her sister if it came to it. Buying another wedding dress at this late date and getting it altered and steamed fortomorrowwould be impossible.
“Ariel, I can’t stand thinking my wedding dress won’t be beautiful.” Her sister pressed a can of cola to her forehead, fanning herself. “Can you turn up the air conditioner? I’m so hot.”
Ariel cranked it up. She was freezing actually, but she wasn’t going to argue. There were the butt warmers. “I have a water spritzer in my satchel for you.”
Courtesy of Jeffrey, who was handling her Friday morning to-do list like the wonderful brother he was.
“Thanks.” She dug in and sprayed herself copiously, the mist landing on Ariel’s bare arms, making her shiver. “We’re going to be all right with the wedding site, right? Rob told me they’d get it done, and one thing I love about Rob is that he always keeps his promises. Unlike my dad—what a joke it’s going to be to have him walk me down the aisle.”
She’d never liked Kevin, the girls’ dad. “So why do it?” For the second time, in fact. “I know you’re not close.”
Tiffany gave her one of heryou’re from another planetlooks, the kind Ariel had received ten times a day when Tiffany was a teenager. “Because that’s what’s done. It would be weird if he didn’t. I worry enough about what people say as it is.”
She told herself to simply drive. Offering another perspective was the path that led to hell, and they were already in it. “Look, we’re here.” She waved at the house. “I can’t wait to see your wedding dress.”
When she parked, Tiffany gripped her seat belt. “I don’t want to get out. You go inside and see. If it’s hideous, I don’t want the image in my head.”
Ariel gritted her teeth. Drama right now was so not welcome. Another reason she’d suggested she and Tiffany go alone—no mother, sisters, or friends. “Tiffany, it’s going to be beautiful.”
Letting herself out, she went around and did what Dax did. She opened her sister’s door and smiled, offering her a hand out. Tiffany was so surprised she took it, and soon they were walking up the steps to the seamstress’ pretty little house, step by step. Brick by brick, she told herself. When she pressed the bell, she shoved her hand in her skirt pocket, reaching for her lucky rabbit’s foot.Please let this go easy.
Paula offered to make them tea when she let them in, which Tiffany turned down. “I just want to see my dress.”
“Of course.” Paula extended a hand toward the alteration room. “This way.”
When they entered the room, the dress was on the mannequin. Ariel made sure to gasp and clutch her heart. “Oh my God! Tiff, it’s beautiful.”
“Of course it is!” her sister chided. “That’s the front. It’s the same as when I bought it.”
Ariel sent the seamstress an apologetic look and walked around to the back. “Well, I think what Paula did is ingenious, personally. But my opinion doesn’t matter. Come see.”
Tiffany clutched her hands. “Ariel, I’m scared. What if it’s awful?”
Ariel clenched her teeth.The woman who put in endless hours making your dress work is listening…“That’s ridiculous. It’s just a little change in the back. Hey! I have a thought. What if it’s even better than before?”
Tiffany edged around the back like it contained a landmine and snagged her arm when she reached her. She bit her lip as she finally looked at the dress—and promptly gave a yelp like she’d been stepped on. “It’s so different… Oh God! Now everyone will know I’ve gotten fat.”
Ariel pried her sister’s hands off her arm, then gave her a one-armed hug. “Stop that kind of talk. You sound like Mother. I think it looks beautiful. Paula did a wonderful job. And on such short notice. Thank you!” She turned to the woman and hoped her smile looked grateful enough for both of them. “Let’s go ahead and try this on, shall we?” Ariel said brightly, turning to Tiffany. “I can’t wait to see you in it.”
Her sister’s facial expression was wooden as the seamstress led her into the changing room. Ariel squeezed into it, not wanting to leave Tiffany alone.
“Can you believe you’re getting married tomorrow? How wonderful is that! Rob adores you, and soon you’ll be living in beautiful San Diego. I’ve been there once. You’re going to love it. Lots of nice restaurants and shops?—”
“Ariel, stop!” Tiffany threw her top off and then started stripping down to her underwear. “I know what you’re doing. Nothing is going to make this better. But I’m going to try it on and pretend this wedding dress is the same as when I bought it, when I thought I’d found my princess dress. So we aren’t going to say anything about the back. You lace me up, and I won’t even look there. Because otherwise I’ll lose it and start crying, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop.”
The weight of her family was suddenly too great. Her legs felt almost leaden because of it. “Then that’s what we’ll do. And if you need to cry, you go on and cry. It’s been a tough week.”
Tiffany wiped her eyes. Ariel dug out more tissues from her satchel and handed them over. They got the dress on her, and Tiffany was true to her word. Personally, Ariel thought the seamstress had done a great job. “I know Paula will want to see you in it, but it looks like it fits to me. How does it feel?”
More tears fell. “Fine. It fits fine. Let’s finish here and go back to the resort. I want to lie down. I’m getting a headache.”
Ariel scooped Tiffany’s hair up like she knew it would likely look tomorrow in an updo. “Don’t you look beautiful. No one will be able to take their eyes off you.”
“God, I hope so.” Her muffled cry made Ariel’s heart hurt. “My face is puffy, and my waist is bigger. I just want to be pretty. Because you’re right. Everyone will be looking at me. I’m the bride. There’s so much pressure. You know?”
“Yes, I know.” Ariel nodded and let her sister’s hair fall, fingering the platinum ends. “But you’re going to get through it. You’re the first of the Three Tornadoes. Who’s more powerful than you?”
“Ariel, I’m not powerful.” She tugged on the bodice and turned to the side in the mirror. “That’s you. I’m the pretty one, who smiles to get what she wants, and when that doesn’t work, I…”
