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“It did.” She wet the tip of her thumb and smeared away something on my cheek. “Manning deserves to be happy, and I realize now that he never was. I talked to him for a while last night—he’s a different man.”
Tiffany knew Manning in ways I didn’t. She’d been with him day in and day out when he’d suffered over me and struggled with his demons. I knew he was happy, but hearing Tiffany say it, my throat thickened. “I could barely comprehend what love was at sixteen, and I know you didn’t believe me back then, but I felt it for him.”
“Oh, geez. I told you not to cry.” Tiffany twisted around to swipe a tissue from the bathroom counter. As she did, I noticed her zipper stretching at the seams. She turned back with tears in her eyes—and that was the giveaway. Tiffany didn’t waste good makeup on crying. “Tiff?” I asked.
She dabbed at the corner of my eye. “What?”
Could that stillness in her be a result of something greater than her love for Robby? “Did you pick a date yet?”
“No.” Her cheeks tinged the slightest shade of pink. “I know we told you guys fall, but fall is so predictable. We’re going to wait until next year.”
“I see.”
Her chest rose and fell with each breath. Now that I’d noticed that her dress was tight, her breasts almost seemed to grow before my eyes.
“Is there another reason you’re waiting?” I asked.
She balled up the tissue, shifting her eyes to meet mine. “What kind of reason?”
“Maybe that you don’t want to order a dress in a bigger size?”
She narrowed her eyes, and for a second, I worried I’d gotten it wrong. Thinking she might be pregnant, I’d just implied my sister was gaining weight, which would be a surefire way to undo all the progress we’d made recently. But then, she shrugged. “Maybe. But today is your day,” she said. “It’s your wedding. Don’t worry about me.”
Today was my day? Now I knew there was something fundamentally different about her. She was giving me the spotlight, possibly for the first time ever. Either she’d been abducted by aliens and they’d sent down a nicer version of her, or her hormones were going haywire and the pregnancy had softened her. I’d heard of that happening—then again, I’d also heard of Roswell. “You are pregnant.” I tried to contain my smile. “Were you planning it?”
“I wasn’t. Robby probably poked holes in the condom.”
With no response to that, I laughed nervously. “Does Mom know?”
“No. I’m not even seven weeks, and I’m not ready to say anything.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Considering what happened before, I’m scared to even let myself think it’s true.”
I nodded. I got anxious when my period was even a day late, so I understood. I promised myself this time, no matter what, I’d be there for Tiffany. There’d be no keeping my distance like before when she’d needed family by her side. “Between us, Manning and I have been trying.”
“I’m not surprised.” She squeezed my arm. “We can be pregnant together.”
As soon as excitement buzzed through me, it fizzled. Manning and I had been off birth control long enough for me to understand I didn’t have any say over the timing. “It’s been a while,” I said. “I actually thought I might be waddling down the aisle.”
“How long?” she asked.
“Almost a year. But that’s including the time it takes for birth control to wear off.”
“Oh.” She nodded a little, blinking away. “That’s not that long. And on the bright side, you’re not waddling. That would be a terrible look on your wedding day.”
I wasn’t sure I agreed. I remembered how the thought of me as a pregnant bride had driven Manning wild. “You’re probably right.”
My mom returned and took my dress off the back of the door. “They’re about ready for us.”
I glanced at her in the mirror. “I need help getting into that.”
“Go to the bathroom first,” Mom and Tiffany said at the same time.
“I don’t have to.”
“Make yourself,” Tiffany said.
“You can do it,” Mom added.
“O-kay,” I said, mostly out of a fear they wouldn’t let me leave otherwise.
When I’d finished, I found my mom, Tiffany, and Val in the bedroom, all holding open the gown.
“I think it should go over her head,” Val was saying.
“After I just spent an hour on her hair and makeup?” Tiffany asked. “She can step into it.”
“The top part is too tight,” Val said. “It won’t fit over her hips—no offense, Lake. It’s not you, it’s the dress. I do this all the time on set.”
“Whatever,” Tiffany said. “If she gets foundation on it, that’s on you.”
Oddly, their bickering made me smile. It was normal, and normal was good today. I didn’t want anything more than to walk down the aisle, marry my love, and eat and drink with friends and family. I slid off my robe and raised my arms as they worked on the sleeves and guided my head through the neckline.
