- Text Size +

Part V

9/7/13: 5:30 p.m.

The zipper on my dress whooshed softly as Mom eased it into place. Alicia was kneeling in front of me, easing my feet into my blue satin flats, which had me praying for dry ground. Kristin’s pearl necklace was around my neck. Leigh’s vintage hair comb was tucked into my pinned-up hair.

Shit was getting real, and I hardly dared to breathe. The bedroom was dead silent.

A few silent footsteps on soft carpet, and then someone was holding my arms out. “My God, look at you,” Mom said softly, her voice watery.

She let go of my hands, and I turned to look in the oval, full-length mirror in the corner. My reflection blurred before me. The gorgeous dress – ivory lace, cap sleeves, slim knee-length skirt – fit me perfectly, every stitch in place, the tailor a miracle worker, the low-carb torment finally paying off. I ran my hands nervously over my hips. Everything went together perfectly, even the borrowed items.

I was more than myself. I was a bride. His bride. It was all real. But it was all a dream, wasn’t it? This couldn’t be my life, could it?

Behind me, Alicia sniffled loudly. She was wearing a very pretty, strapless cocktail dress in apple-green satin, with a ruched waist, and she had let Rochelle talk her into just a touch of makeup, which looked lovely, if incongruous next to her trademark black fauxhawk. I turned to her, shocked at the sign of rare tears, and she almost tackled me in a hug before I could figure out whether she really was crying. Tears pricked the backs of my own eyeballs.

“It’s finally here,” she whispered. “Oh, Peggy Jo, you’re getting married.”

Rochelle came walking into the room slowly, tentatively. She was drop-dead gorgeous in a full-skirted hot pink dress printed with flowers, her dark hair streaked pink to match and combed into an elaborate victory roll. She put her arms around both of us, without a word. Lindie followed her in, statuesque in a soft blue chiffon thing, her blonde hair loose and curly, and patted my back.

“You don’t have your something old.” Mom’s voice was still quiet and unsteady. “I just realized that.”

The group hug parted, and I saw Mom, who was wearing a simple silver dress with a little jacket over it, wrestling the simple gold band off her left hand, revealing a tan line. She took my right hand and slid it onto my ring finger. I stared down at it, uncomprehending. It had been more than 25 years since I’d seen her without this ring, since the only dad I’d ever really had, the person who should have been walking me down the aisle today, had placed it on her finger as we stood by the river. I closed my eyes again, but the tears came back anyway.

“That’s from Jeff,” Mom said, I suspected more for everyone else’s benefit than for mine. Her eyes were brimming with tears when I opened mine, her voice shaky. “He’s looking down at you right now. You know that.”

I nodded furiously. “I know.” The words came out on a sob.

Mom’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Now you’re dressed.”

The doorbell rang. Lindie wiped her eyes. “Crap.”

She walked out of the room. I took a few deep breaths to compose myself. Rochelle disappeared and reappeared a moment later with tissues and a makeup compact. She doled out the Kleenex, dabbed at my eyes and touched up my cheeks.

“That mascara’s gonna last you through a hurricane,” she said. Her voice was scratchy, and she cleared her throat. “But I’m gonna send this compact with you in your purse.”

“Here, I’ll take it.” Alicia took the compact from Rochelle and put it in the little white clutch that would probably never leave the car.

Lindie reappeared in the doorway. She smiled at me. “We need a bride out here.”

I frowned a little in confusion. We all ambled down the hallway into the living room. Nick was standing in the foyer, hands behind his back, wearing a well-cut gray suit. He turned to look at me. The smile on his face was sentimental and a little shaky.

“Meg, you’re a lady,” he said quietly. His eyes suddenly looked a bit too bright.

“The heck are you doin’ here?” I smiled up at him. It was no surprise to see the fourth bandmate after the day we’d had, but this didn’t seem like the ideal place for the best man an hour before the wedding.

“Well, for one thing, I had to come pick up the girls. For another thing…” He held out one hand to reveal a little silver-wrapped box. “I got a wedding present from the big guy.”

I tore the wrapping paper carefully off the unmistakable little aqua box. Inside, a tiny, folded square of hotel stationery practically jumped out, revealing very simple, very beautiful pearl drop earrings with tiny diamond accents. I could hardly take my eyes off them.

“Oh my goooooosh.” Alicia was peeking over my shoulder, just as glued to the earrings as I was.

Nick cleared his throat. “Nice to see you, too, partner in crime.”

“Sorry, Nick. Shiny objects.” Alicia practically ripped the box out of my hand before I could stare at them any longer. “Here, I’ll help you put them on. What’s the note say?”

I looked down at the note. Written on the outside, in messy script, was “Read in the car.”

“Of course,” I muttered, unable to squelch a smile.

“What’s that?” Alicia was taking the earrings out of the box.

“Nothing.” I looked up at Nick, who was watching us expectantly. “They’re beautiful. Here, mine is…” I walked into the foyer and retrieved an oblong box from the side table, wrapped in blue with a white bow. Inside was a very nice silver watch with a Kentucky-blue face and a sapphire at high noon. I had had our wedding date engraved on the back and everything. A white envelope, holding a greeting card over which I’d agonized for hours last night, was taped to the bottom.

“You nervous?” Nick asked as I handed him the box.

I blew out a little breath. “I’m just finally starting to feel like it’s all real.” I smiled. “I’m ready. I’m nervous, but I’m ready. I’ve been ready a long time.” And I knew as I said it that it wasn’t a lie, wasn’t me faking it.

“So’s he.” Nick pulled me into a tight hug. His voice was actually shaking. I didn’t think I’d ever seen Nick cry. “I don’t know what to say. He’s my bro, Meg. You take good care of him.”

“It’s not like you’re never gonna see him again,” I said, my voice muffled in his chest, trying not to press my made-up face into his jacket. “I’m not stealing him away to Egypt. And it’s not like you’ve never seen him on his wedding day before.”

“You know what I mean.” Nick let me go and looked down at me. His eyes were dry, his voice steady now, both a bit wry. “It’s different this time. I didn’t even wanna look at…you know…She Who Must Not Be Named.”

I rolled my eyes. “For the last time, she’s not Voldemort, Nick. She’s my stepson’s mother. I don’t even know why we’re talking about her.”

The butterflies in my stomach intensified. Once, out of morbid curiosity, I had Googled their wedding photos. They’d looked so young, so stunning, that there was simply no comparison between me and her. Never had been. Never would be. I could say I had won, but there had never been a competition. She’d dropped out of the race before I had ever started running.

On the other hand, I was becoming Brian’s wife today. Me, and no one else. His wife. His partner, and he mine, until death parted us, or something like that. He was better than I deserved, but he had picked me anyway. Just thinking about it made my throat swell.

“But you know what I’m getting at. You’re fucking awesome, and I thought this day would never get here. I couldn’t be happier for the two of you losers.” Nick’s words were typically manchildish, his walls back up, but the sentiment was heartwarming.

I returned his warm smile. “You’re no slouch yourself. I don’t know what either of our lives would be like without you.”

And now that warm smile was quite a shitty grin. “And lemme just remind you that I was the one who told him to be nice to you.”

I gave him a little shove, to distract from the lump in my throat. “Will you get out of here? I’m sure you’re needed down there.”

“All right, all right.” He looked past me. “Ladies?”

Rochelle and Lindie walked over, dragging their bags and cases and detritus. They both hugged me tight.

“Thanks for letting us be part of your day,” Rochelle whispered in my ear. “You look pretty gorgeous, if I do say so.”

I couldn’t remember ever feeling more sentimental toward another female who hadn’t given birth to me. I squeezed Rochelle around the waist, extending an arm to pull Lindie into a group hug. “Thanks for everything. I’m lucky to have you girls as friends.”

Nick opened the door. “My wedding present oughta be here shortly,” he said as Rochelle walked out and Lindie paused beside him, slipping her hand into his. “In the meantime…” He winked down at me and chucked me lightly under the chin. “See ya at the altar, Miz Michaels.”

I watched them walk across the lawn. Alicia came up beside me and carefully put the new earrings on me. I looked down at the folded note in my hands, growing damp and wrinkled from the sudden sweat that covered them.

“Want me to put that in your purse?” she said.

I handed it to her, reluctantly, part of me irrationally afraid I might never see it again. “Yeah, you better.”

Mom walked up on my other side and put an arm around my shoulders. “Almost time for us to go.”

We watched Nick drive off, leaving me standing at the front door in my lace and pearls and growing anticipation, with 45 minutes until I married Brian Littrell.