“If I look half as good as you did on your wedding day, I’m happy.” Abby turned to embrace her. “Thank you,” she whispered, determined not to cry and smudge the makeup Nadia had meticulously applied.
“I couldn’t be more pleased to pass along my dress to you, the daughter of my heart.” Verna’s voice quivered, and before they both broke down in tears, she cracked a smile. “Besides, the only thing from my wedding that might still fit is my veil. And maybe my shoes.”
Abby laughed, grateful for the levity. She’d opted to go without a veil, leaving her hair in soft waves around her shoulders. And she’d nixed her shoes, too. She wanted to feel the warm sand beneath her feet as she walked down the aisle, connecting her to the place she’d quickly called home.
“Okay,” Nadia said thoughtfully as she studied her wedding day checklist. “We have something old.” She gestured to the dress with her ballpoint pen, then flashed a sheepish smile, adding, “Sorry, Verna. No offense.”
“None taken, my dear. Although, I prefer the term vintage, like a fine cheddar cheese that gets sharper with age.”
Abby suppressed another laugh. Considering Verna’s orange-tinted curls, the comparison couldn’t be more fitting.
“You’re definitely sharp as a tack,” Nadia told her sincerely before returning to her list. “Okay, next we need something new.”
“This lipstick is new.” Abby admired the petal-pink hue that made her lips look a little fuller.
“I have something better.” With a conspiratorial smile, Nadia handed her a small box wrapped in pale gold paper.
“What’s this?” Abby untied the cream-colored bow.
“It’s from Logan.” Nadia’s dark eyes twinkled.
Eagerly, Abby tore away the paper and lifted the lid. Inside, she found a shimmering mother-of-pearl hair comb. “It’sbeautiful,” she breathed, mesmerized by the way light danced off its iridescent sheen.
A pretty notecard nestled beneath the comb. Abby slid it from the box and read the printed front.
A gift for the woman full of motherly love and wisdom, who is both nurturing and strong, and reflects light to those around her.
Just beneath the artfully printed script, Logan had handwritten a single word.
Ditto.
Abby smiled. Her almost-husband: a man of few words but unlimited affection. Her heart soared at the thought of marrying him in mere minutes, muffling the melancholy thoughts of Max lurking just beneath the surface.
Nadia swept a few strands of Abby’s hair away from her face, skillfully securing them in place with the comb. “Perfect. Something old, something new. Now you need something borrowed.”
Abby studied her reflection, noting her lack of adornment apart from the comb and simple stud earrings. “I don’t have anything borrowed.” Technically, the dress didn’t count, since Verna had insisted she keep it.
“Hold that thought.” With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Nadia reached into her purse and withdrew a rectangular wooden box with intricate engravings. “I’d like you to borrow these.” She flipped open the lid, revealing two gold bracelets dotted with dainty pearls and tiny, delicate bells.
“Nadia, they’re gorgeous! Thank you!” Abby eagerly slipped one on her wrist, but Nadia smiled and shook her head.
“They’re anklets. It’s tradition in India for the bride to wear them when she walks down the aisle. The gentle tinkling sound represents the joy she brings into the marriage.”
“Oh, that’s lovely.” Verna moved closer to admire their exquisite, graceful design.
Abby met Nadia’s gaze, her throat cinching with emotion. “These are yours, for your wedding someday, aren’t they?”
“Yes, but I want you to wear them first.”
“I can’t. They’re too special.” Abby placed the anklet back inside the box and passed it to Nadia.
“Please. It would mean so much to me if you’d wear them.” Nadia set it back in Abby’s hands. “I admire you so much, Abs. Watching you this past year, everything you’ve overcome, the way you’ve chosen joy in the midst of heartache, the way you and Logan have worked through so much together.” Her voice hitched, and she gathered a breath before adding softly, “I hope to follow in your footsteps on my wedding day. Sharing these anklets would remind me to walk down the aisle with the same love, grace, and strength that you’ve always shown.”
Abby caressed the smooth, polished wood, humbled by Nadia’s words. Did her friend really see those attributes in her? She didn’t always feel strong or joyful, but maybe she exuded more strength and joy than she realized?
Moved by her graciousness, Abby embraced her friend, hugging her fiercely. “I’d be honored to wear them. Thank you.”
Carefully dabbing around her damp eyes with her fingertip, Abby sat on the edge of her bed while Nadia fastened the anklets. When she’d finished, Abby stretched out her legs and wiggled her bare feet, delighted by the delicate twinkling of bells.
