AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The walls are covered by the same dark wood paneling as the hallway and pews, but there’s a sectional couch in the corner upholstered with blue cotton. Sunshine streams in through the windows, beaming directly onto the folding table that’s been set up in the center of the space. Only small sections of the scratched plastic surface are visible. Most of it’s covered with bobby pins, hair ties, tissues, water bottles, Band-Aids, and a lot of makeup. A couple room dividers are set up, screening off parts of the space from view.
“You’re here!” A figure in a pink robe barrels toward us. Sandra stops just a couple of feet away. “Thank goodness.”
“Didn’t I say we’d be here at one?” Hallie asks.
“Yes, you did,” Sandra confirms. “Everyone’s been asking when Hallie and Saylor would arrive, though!” She lets out a nervous, tinny laugh. “I guess we know who the real stars of the show are!”
I’m not surprised Hallie’s arrival was anticipated. I am surprised mine was, but I’m guessing there’s a fair amount of intrigue about my presence. I haven’t been back home since graduating high school, except for Hallie’s wedding.
“This is the famous Saylor?” Another woman appears at Sandra’s side, one who looks enough like her, I’m certain they are related. “My goodness, you’re gorgeous, dear.”
“Uh, thank you,” I respond. I’m sporting oversized sweats and a bun so messy it seems an insult to the hairstyle to even call it one. I figured I’d have plenty of time to get ready.
“I’m Sandra’s sister, Sally,” the woman explains.
“Nice to meet you,” I reply with a polite smile.
“It feels like we’ve already met. I’ve heard so much about you from Marcus.”
An interruption saves me from having to respond. The door reopens, and a woman with auburn hair sticks her head in the room. “Photos in half an hour,” she announces, holding up the camera strapped around her chest.
Sally leaps into action. “Take a seat, Sandra. I’ve got to finish your hair!”
A temporary vanity covered with a beauty products has been set up in one corner. Sandra settles into a director-style folding chair, and Sally continues winding Sandra’s shoulder-length brown hair around the barrel of the curling iron.
Hallie hangs her dress bag up on a curtain rod and unzips it. “You should get dressed,” she tells me. “You heard the photographer.”
“Wait, I’m supposed to be in the photos?” I whisper.
“Yes.” She shoots me a Duh look.
“Why didn’t you say that earlier when I was complaining about leaving so soon?”
“I did,” Hallie replies as she pulls her black bridesmaid dress out of the bag. It’s a sensible A-line style that’s knee-length. “Good to know you weren’t listening.”
I scoff as I grab my dress. Once I’ve both changed, I head over to the full-length mirror to apply some mascara and lip gloss.
I still love the dress I chose at Beck’s kitchen counter. It’s a one-shoulder design with a tight bodice. It’s floor-length, but the flowy chiffon is asymmetrical, showing off flashes of my legs every step I take.
“Everyone ready?” Sally calls from the vanity. She’s changed as well, into a cap-sleeved dress that falls to mid-calf. Sandra is wearing her wedding dress, which is a simple white slip with a lace overlay.
“Ready!” Hallie replies.
We file out of the room and back into the hallway. There’s only one door farther down the hallway on the opposite side. Sally heads through it first, revealing that it leads out into the gardens behind the church. There’s a stone courtyard in the center, surrounded by an explosion of lush greenery with some scattered dots of color provided by the few remaining blooms.
My father is standing in the courtyard, along with my Uncle Jerry and two older men I vaguely recognize as his business partners.
“Isn’t it bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding?” I whisper to Hallie.
She gives me a dubious glance. “You’re superstitious?”
“I’m an athlete.” Still a blank stare. I sigh. “Never mind.”
The photographer’s instructions stop any further conversation. I’m handed a bouquet of roses and told to smile. We take individual photos, group photos, candid shots, posed shots. I lose track. I just keep smiling, and no one seems to notice the expected expression pasted on my face is mostly fake.
The wedding planner finally tells us to head inside and take our places for the ceremony. The building echoes with audible chatter as we walk down the hallway toward the front of the church. My father and his groomsmen split off to enter the front of the altar.
There’s a man who looks close to eighty waiting in the church vestibule. The front doors to the chapel have been closed, and the oak ones leading to the aisle are shut as well.
