Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
I didn’t even know if they were still together anymore.
More importantly, I didn’t care.
My stomach soured just at the thought of her, and I shook it off, focusing on Aunt Laura as she told me about the new dip stations for nails at the salon, and the latest hair trends that were making her go crazy. Conversation flowed easily from there, and we covered everything from the podcast to what shows we were bingeing on Netflix before the alarm pinged on my phone, letting me know it was time to head out.
I sighed. “Welp, that’s my cue. Time for the wedding madness to begin.”
“I can’t believe she’s planning this thing in two weeks.”
“You can’t?” I challenged.
“Well, okay, I can, but seriously, don’t most brides take a year? A year and a half?”
“Morgan isn’t most brides,” I said on a chuckle, standing as I fished cash from my wallet. Aunt Laura stood with me and stopped my hand before I could withdraw it.
“Don’t even think about it, Jazzy Girl. This one’s on me.” She pulled me in for a hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow night for the party.”
“Pray for my sanity in the meantime,” I told her.
She laughed, pulling back and holding onto my arms as her eyes wandered over me. “I wish my sister could see the woman you’ve become.”
My chest tightened, and in lieu of acknowledging that statement, I just kissed her cheek and squeezed her hand in my own. “I’m just trying to keep up with my bad ass aunt.”
She waved me off, but I didn’t miss the glossing of her eyes. “I’m still so mad at her, you know,” she whispered, tugging on a strand of my long hair. “For leaving you. For leaving us. But, I miss her sometimes, and wonder what it would have been like if she’d stayed.”
“I don’t.”
It was a lie, but Aunt Laura didn’t call me on it.
I gave her one last smile and made my way out of the diner, out onto Main Street, which was already filling with tourists and residents alike. The buzz of excitement washed out any residual ick left over from talking about my mom, and I smiled, taking it all in.
Summer was just around the corner, and I could feel it in the air.
The promise of longer days and hotter nights.
The rest of the afternoon blew by in a blur of chiffon and diamonds.
I met Morgan and her mom at the only dress boutique in town right after breakfast with my aunt, and Morgan tried on every dress there until she found the perfect one. It was short and unconventional, a cream color as opposed to bright white, with lace details that covered the sweetheart neckline and an open back. It tapered at her slim waist, the skirt soft and flowy, and when she did a twirl and the skirt flew up like Sandy’s in Grease, she gave a squeal of approval and delight.
The seamstress pinned it with the minor alterations, promising to have it ready in a week, and then it was my turn.
Getting Morgan to decide on colors was apparently the most difficult task — one her mom had been trying to accomplish for the last few days. She had me put on every color from a forest green to Easter egg yellow. But when she saw me in a long, lilac dress with slim spaghetti straps and a long slit up the side, she gasped, clapping her hands together with glee.
And that was it, decision made.
The rest of the wedding would be tailored around the fact that she liked the way that purple dress looked on me, and I smiled, because it was so perfectly Morgan.
I was the only bridesmaid, and, news to me, Tyler would be the only groomsman. He and Oliver had grown close over the last year, apparently, and Oliver’s best friend was living abroad, teaching English in South Korea, and couldn’t make it home for the wedding on such short notice.
So, it would just be the two of us standing up there with the bride and groom.
Peachy.
Once the dresses were in order, we met Oliver at the jeweler. It was my first time meeting him in person, and I knew right away that I liked him. He was tall and sort of goofy, with dark brown skin and a smile that lit up the entire room when he flashed it. He was just like Morgan in the sense that he had an energy that seemed to flow off of him, permeating everything around him, filling each person he talked to with joy.
If I didn’t already know before, I knew it the moment I saw them together.
They were meant to be.
I watched the lovebirds with warmth swimming in my chest as they picked out his ring and found the perfect band to match hers, too. It didn’t take nearly as long as we had at the dress shop, but still, I was exhausted by the time we left.