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I had to park on the side of the cul-de-sac. Her parents’ driveway was crammed with cars. I slung my overnight bag over my shoulder and lifted the blue dress, careful not to let the plastic drape across the ground. I sidestepped one of the florists as he ran past me with a box full of corsages and bouquets. This place was busier than graduation check-in at Wave Oasis.
I tapped on the door, but everyone was too busy scurrying around to notice me. I let myself in and marched to the back of the house where I thought I’d find Sasha surrounded by an entourage.
I was amazed that the house was so clean. There had been a massive party here last night. You would never know a trombone player had been standing on the coffee table hours ago.
I was surprised to see Sasha was alone. She sat facing a vanity. Her auburn hair was in loose curls around her shoulders, pinned on the side with exotic flowers. She looked almost ethereal the way her cheekbones glowed and her eyes lit up.
“Sasha, you look so beautiful.” I crossed the room.
There was something different about her, and it wasn’t the beautiful bride makeup or the way her hair was styled with delicate orchids. She was calm, as if in the midst of all this madness she had finally found a sort of sanctuary within herself.
“What do you think?” She stood and twirled in a small circle so I could get the full effect. It didn’t matter she was wearing a white robe monogrammed with the word bride over her heart; she looked ready to walk down the aisle.
“I think you look stunning. I can’t wait to see you with the dress.” I noticed it was hanging on the outside of the closet door.
“I feel like I’m walking through a dream or something today. This morning, my father broke down in tears over breakfast, and my mother keeps laughing hysterically for no reason. They have lost it.” She smiled. “But I’m ready to do this. I’ve never been more ready to be Cal’s wife.”
“Well I better get dressed, then.” I giggled.
“The stylists will be back any minute, and they can do your hair and makeup. How are you going to wear your hair?”
I hadn’t given it much thought, but now that I knew Sasha was wearing hers down, I thought I should go with some kind of up do. “Maybe a twist or a chignon?”
“Oh, a chignon would be pretty.” She crossed the room to her dress and stared at it.
“Do you want me to help you with it?” I offered, wondering where the rest of the crew was hiding.
She nodded. “Yes, I’m dying to put it on.”
I closed the bedroom door and turned the lock. Sasha tossed her robe on the bed, and I helped her step into the dress one foot at a time. I would never forgive myself if I pulled a single thread or left a trace of a smudge on the fabric. It was flawless.
She turned in front of the mirror. Sasha was the kind of girl who could pose in Bride Magazine. With the ivory dress against her olive skin and coffee-colored locks, she looked like she could pose on any page.
I felt the tiniest twinge of envy as she spun in a circle. Would that ever be me? Would I do this one day with the dress and the wedding? Did Cole want me to be his wife? I realized the envy I felt was because Sasha knew the answers to all those questions. Cal was waiting for her at the church, and there was a house full of people getting ready to support her marriage a hundred percent. She had certainty I was still trying to lock up.
My parents had been strangely ok when they got over the shock of Cole and me. Ryan came around. But a baby? A shotgun wedding? My heart started to race. What was I thinking?
“Knock knock.” I rushed to the door to let in a man with spiky blond hair. “Oh, girl, we need to do your hair.” He pointed to my head.
“Oh, ok.” I wasn’t sure if I should be offended.
“And look at you.” He beamed at Sasha. “Gorgeous. Simply gorgeous. Has your mother seen you yet?” He pushed my shoulders until I was sitting at the vanity, and he whipped up half my hair behind my ears.
“No, Anthony. She’ll just start laughing like a hyena or worse, bawling like my dad.”
“I think I saw the photographer out front. You ready for your pictures? Need me to do a touch up?”
He had dropped my hair and was concentrating on the bride.
She scooped up part of her train and walked to the door. “I’ll go find everyone.” I saw her take a deep breath as she crossed the threshold into crazy.
As soon as Sasha left, Anthony seemed to be able to focus on my hair again. “All right, honey, are we putting this up?”
I nodded. “I was thinking a chignon.”
“Love it!”
He started humming and working on my hair. In twenty minutes, I had a picture-perfect hairstyle.
