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“Thanks.” Tucker makes the hands-united-in-prayer gesture at Logan and then turns to me. “And to answer your questions. I’m in love with Penny and I want to be with her. Yes, I will miss the nature up here, but it’s a sacrifice worth making. And I didn’t hate planning this wedding, it was just…” He shrugs. “Different from what I’m used to. But logistics is logistics, and I think I did a pretty wonderful job.” He looks at Logan for confirmation.
“Stellar, man.”
“Thank you. And as for the crushing competition, Penny says a tweet from Christian praising my work will have me booked solid with brides for the next five years. And she’ll help me curate my Pinterest, whatever that means, so…”
“Great to see you have it all figured out,” I snap, getting up and resuming pacing around the room.
“Hey, Lover Boy,” Logan calls, using my college nickname. “Why, instead of asking us a million covert questions, don’t you just come out with what’s really bugging you so we can discuss it openly?”
“What do you mean?”
“That all this talk of kids and commitment and whetherwe”—he points at himself and Tucker—“are ready, is more a question of you falling for a certain bridesmaid and wondering if you’re ready for your first grownup relationship.”
I rake a hand through my hair. “Or that.”
“Sit down,” Logan orders. “You’re driving me nuts with all the pacing. And tell us what your dilemma is.”
“It’s not easy to talk to you guys, with all your certainties. You both sound so sure. Like the idea of upending your entire life for a woman isn’t scary.”
Logan gives me a long stare. “For the right woman, it isn’t. What are you so afraid of?”
“Summer wants to get married and have kids.”
Logan chuckles. “Listen, I know Winter gave you an earful yesterday. But you don’t have to sound the wedding bells the moment you enter a relationship; that’s not how it works.”
I’m not used toreceivingadvice about women, but I need it. With a tight jaw, I say, “Enlighten me, then.”
“Imagine you walked into a dating agency, or filled out a profile online. One of the first questions they’d ask is if you want to have a family, as in kids. Then they’d pair off people according to their answers. They’d never match a woman who says she wants five kids with a man who says he wants none. So, if you ticked the kids box, you’d get paired with women who’d also checked that box. But that doesn’t mean you should start trying for a baby on the first night out.”
“And how long do you wait?”
“There’s not a fixed amount or arightamount of time. You date, and if youwereto fall in love, you’d both know your relationship wouldeventuallylead to getting married and starting a family. The dating world is divided into two major categories: those who want kids, and those who don’t. And both categories know they should steer clear of the other, or else…”
“What if I’m not sure on which category I land?” I ask.
Logan reflects for a second and sighs. “Man, you must figure that out for yourself.” He pauses. “And if I can make a suggestion? Do it before it’s too late.”
He means before I lose the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t disagree.
22
SUMMER
With every passing minute, I become more nervous. The moment to move to the chapel quickly approaches, and I swear I’m more on edge than the bride. Dread at having to face Archie makes my stomach burn, and my only consolation is not being the maid of honor. A small mercy that will spare me from having to walk down the aisle arm in arm with the best man. Instead, sweet Tucker will be my escort.
I glimpse my reflection in one of the illuminated mirrors at the back of the room. At least I have my best, contoured poker face on. The makeup artist pulled off a small miracle. My cheekbones are highlighted to death, and the bluish bags under my eyes have been vanquished, while my cheeks have a healthy rose tint. And my lips shine with pink gloss. My hair is amazing, too, swept back in a romantic updo. Softly braided at the sides and collected at the nape. The style isn’t too polished, with loose, curly tendrils left astray while tiny white baby’s-breath flowers have been woven in strategic places. Lana’s hair is the same, while Winter’s is a little more elaborate, and she has ivory roses instead of baby’s-breath.
The bridesmaids’ gowns are out of a dream as well. Like any bridesmaid who’s ever watched27 Dresses,I was worried my sister would pick a monstrosity. Not a period costume or a Beverly Hills fuchsia mini skirt, but she could’ve gone down the road of a drab olive-green color or the beaded prom dress from hell.
Instead, I’m wearing a one-shoulder illusion gown in a perfect blush shade, with soft, sweeping ruffled flanges cascading down the skirt. A smooth, shimmering sash at the waist completes the outfit.
Winter’s wedding dress is next-level dreamy, though. My sister has always been the tomboy out of the two of us, but getting married has really brought out her inner Disney princess. Her gown is a caged A-line marvel covered in punched floral appliqués that start at the illusion neckline, continue to the notched bodice, and cascade down the tulle skirt. But nothing, not the hair nor the dress, can compete with the radiance of her smile.
Gosh, what it must be like to be that happy. Because no matter how perfect I look on the outside, inside, I’m slowly fading out.
A knock on the door makes me jump and causes my stomach to tie up in even more knots.
Tucker peeks his head into the room. “Ladies, are we ready to go?”
