CHAPTERONE
Teeny
NOW
When my best friend,Grace, got married, I told her I’d wear whatever maid of honor dress she wanted me to wear. Strapless, floor length, even tulle. Whatever the bride-to-be wanted, I was prepared to give it to her. But, deep down, I secretly hoped she wouldn’t pick pastel. Baby pink, lavender, sky blue, canary yellow. All of it made my pale skin look even paler. And with my jet-black hair, round face that made me look about ten years younger than I actually am, and the strong Wolverine-esque anti-aging genetics my mom passed down to me, I knew I would look like a practical child attending church on Easter Sunday instead of a thirty-year-old maid of honor.
Luckily, she picked a deep ruby red A-line floor-length gown. It was flowy with a strap across one shoulder. My husband, Leo, thought it was beautiful. We were child-free for the night in a fancy hotel room with room service and thick walls. We were in love.
That was six years ago. A lifetime, it seems.
“That green one looks amazing on you, Teeny.”
I turn to look at Mina from the reflection in the large mirror of the changing room. “Well, it’s your wedding,” I tell her while she dangles a skinny champagne flute in her fingers. The giant three-carat diamond ring my brother proposed to her with glints off the lights around us.
“I still want you to wear something you like.”
I smile at her. “I’m really not picky.”As long as it doesn’t make me look like the Easter Bunny’s going to be walking me down the aisle.
“What do the other bridesmaids want?” I ask, running my hands over the deep emerald tones of the dress. It really does look nice. The chiffon material feels light and airy while looking luxurious. Too bad I won’t have a husband to tell me I look nice in it this time around.
“They liked the darker shade of green rather than a lighter color. Said it would make my eyes pop in the pictures.”
I nod, agreeing. “Okay.”
I try on another two, one in mint and another in a rusty sage color, before we decide the darker tone is the best way to go. We set up appointments for the other bridesmaids and leave the bridal store.
“So, what other wedding errands are we running before dinner?”
Mina hooks her arm through mine and looks at her watch. “We have time for one more stop,” she says. “Maybe a quick Sephora run? I could use your help deciding on a lipstick shade. I need something pink and neutral. Something that says blushing bride.”
“Sure,” I say, smiling at her. “Dinner’s at seven?”
“Seven thirty,” she answers. “Is Leo coming?”
I shake my head. “It’s mainly wedding party, so I told him he’s on his own tonight,” I tell her, averting my eyes to my purse where I pretend to search for something. ChapStick, hand sanitizer, the ruins of my marriage. Maybe if I keep my head ducked low for another minute or two, she won’t be able to tell I’m lying.
“You really don’t mind going with me to Sephora?” Mina asks. “I mean, you’ll tell me if I’m being total bridezilla and demanding things like your time, right?”
I laugh, finally looking up at her from my deep tote dive. “Of course, I don’t mind.”
“Okay,” she answers, pausing a moment before adding, “Because I have another favor to ask.”
“What is it?”
“I have a cake tasting to go to in a few weeks,” she explains. “But I can’t go. I have to go out of town for work, and it took ages to set up this appointment with the bakery. Can you go with your brother? I just know he’s going to pick some weird childish flavor like confetti unless an actual adult intervenes.”
That sounds pretty on brand with Josh Cohen and his taste buds. “Yeah, that’s fine,” I tell her with a breezy laugh.
“You sure?”
I nod. “Of course,” I assure her. “I don’t have much going on, work-wise, and I have some free time in the coming weeks. Just let me know when exactly and I can move things around if I need to.”
This is good. Wedding errands, work, distractions. Busy is good.
We finish shopping, Mina opting for the shade “Honeylove” at the register at Sephora, giving her the perfect bridal look against her skin tone and iridescent turquoise eyes. We make our way to the restaurant where we’re meeting the rest of the bridal party.
The room reserved for the dinner is small and intimate, making it difficult to avoid small talk. As soon as we walk in, Josh spots us right away. “There she is!” Mina blushes, bringing her shoulder to her cheek, as her husband-to-be rushes to her side. “Did my punk kid sister take care of you?”
