Melinda knocked on the door and waited for Bree to answer. When she didn't come right away, Melinda knocked again. "It's just me," she called.
The door opened and revealed Bree wearing a bathrobe, her hair in a ponytail. She held a tissue in one hand, her eyes red and puffy. She didn't say anything but motioned for Melinda to enter.
Once the door had shut behind Melinda, Bree started crying again. She sank into the closest couch, her sobs escaping like machine-gun fire. "Apparently Mark has told everyone that I'm sick and unable to make it to the dinner tonight. Mom called to see if I was all right and Grams called to make sure I wasn't planning on ruining the weekend for everyone. She said I better be standing at the altar tomorrow, because she can't come out to my wedding twice."
"Yes, that does sound like something she'd say," Melinda said. She sat down on the couch next to Bree, who promptly lay down and rested her head on Melinda's lap.
"This weekend is a disaster," Bree said. "All I wanted was to be happy. Mark was on board for telling everyone the truth, but since our dads decided to break off and form their own company sooner than they had originally planned—he thinks that if we break up it will ruin everything."
"But neither of you can stand each other," Melinda said, taking Bree's hair out of the ponytail and combing through it with her fingers.
"He says we could have an 'open' relationship. We'd have separate bedrooms, separate relationships—we'd be married in name only until he gained a position in the new company." Bree snorted in disgust. "Can you imagine that?"
"I'm trying not to," Melinda said, anger bubbling up. She had always been so jealous of Bree, but it turned out that being stuffed away at the diner may not have been the worst thing that could have happened.
"I always wanted to be you," Bree said, sitting up and pulling her knees to her chest.
"Why?" Melinda asked, sincerely confused. "I've always been the troubled one of the family. Mom and Dad couldn't wait to be rid of me."
"That's not true," Bree said. "After we moved, Mom would wander around and ask, 'Where's that sister of yours gone off to?' When I would remind her that you weren't there, she'd sigh and say, 'Oh, that's right.' And then she'd get a sad look about her and walk off. Dad was the same way. The whole family dynamic changed, and not in a good way. We missed the way you'd make us laugh. And you loved others in a way that none of us knew how—it was sincere and real."
"I was too hurt to miss you guys," Melinda said, her gaze downcast. "I figured you all thought life would be better without me."
"Oh, never," Bree cried, hugging her sister. "After we moved, things were awful. I felt like my life had been taken from me, everyone making choices for me. Apparently becoming a high school teacher wasn't suitable for the daughter of a man of influence, such as our father," she said, her voice bitter. "So, I became an engineer. And dating a chef was out of the question, so I ended up on a blind date with Mark. We all know how that's turned out."
"Why didn't you just say no?" Melinda asked.
"Why didn't you?" Bree countered.
Melinda was silent for a few moments. "I thought it would just be for a little while. And Mom promised that she'd sell the diner to Devon and Claire once I moved on to other things."
"And I thought I'd just go on that one date to humor them." Bree sighed. "Mom has always done whatever Grams has told her to, never standing up to her. And now we've become the same way."
"What if we stood up to them—all of them," Melinda said, an idea forming. It was terrible, and Bree would hate it. But still—it could be fun.
Bree narrowed her eyes. "What are you suggesting?"
"You should go down to dinner tonight. With me and Daniel."
"But I'm supposed to be sick," Bree said.
"Says Mark,” Melinda said. “Maybe he isn’t going to tell people the engagement is off, but that doesn’t mean you can’t." Melinda stood and faced Bree. Yes, she looked perfect. "Don't change a thing. Wear that bathrobe and put your hair back up in the ponytail."
"But my face is all blotchy and puffy," Bree protested.
"Which is how we want it to be," Melinda said. "You don't want to miss out on all that amazing food because that creep told everyone you are sick, do you?"
"Well, no."
"Then come with us. You'll still play the part of the sick fiancée, and you'll definitely need to bring those tissues with you. But you are going to show Mark that you aren't just going to bend to his will."
Bree's lips turned up into a slight smile. "Grams is going to have a heart attack, you know." The way she said it, she sounded hopeful.
"So will Mom," Melinda said. "What are sisters for if not to crash formal family functions?"
Bree stood and grinned. "I need to go find my slippers."
When Melinda told Daniel their plan, he wasn't as excited about it as she'd hoped.
"You know this could ruin what we've been working toward, right?"
"If anything, it should make me look better," Melinda said, though she had to admit that she'd thought about the possible repercussions. No doubt they'd blame her because, in their eyes, Bree could do no wrong. It would have been Melinda's influence that had led her astray.
Daniel glanced from Melinda to Bree and back again, before bursting into laughter. "All right. Let's go present their lovely bride-to-be."
"Are you referring to me or Melinda?" Bree teased.
"Both," Daniel said with a wink. He held out both arms. Melinda took one side, and Bree took the other, and then Daniel escorted them both to the elevator. "By the way, I love your teddy bear slippers. I'm thinking I need to pick some up for myself," he said to Bree.
"Okay, I know you two aren't really engaged, but you totally should be," she whispered to Melinda, as if Daniel wasn't right there. "He is totally cute."
"I know, right?" Melinda whispered back.
"Am I supposed to pretend I can't hear you guys?" Daniel asked.
"Yes," the two women said at the same time.
The rehearsal dinner was at one of the fanciest restaurants at the resort and as the three of them walked in, heads swiveled in their direction.
A man wearing a suit and tie hurried over to them. "May I help you?"
"We are here for a wedding rehearsal dinner," Melinda said.
"Maybe you are," the man said stiffly, "but she is not." He pointed to Bree, as if the idea of her entering his restaurant was the most revolting thing that could happen.
"Actually, she's the bride-to-be," Daniel said.
The man stared. "I'll be back," he finally said, and then hurried away.
"So…does that mean we can seat ourselves?" Bree asked with a smirk.
Melinda had never seen this side of her sister before. It was amazing, but also somewhat alarming. She hoped Bree could handle this kind of freedom. Once someone stopped caring what others thought of them, who knew what they were capable of?
The man walked briskly back toward them, this time with Melinda's mother in tow. The shock and horror etched on her face was something Melinda wouldn't soon forget.
"What are you doing here?" their mother asked. "Mark said you were puking your guts out."
"So, you do know these people?" the man asked, surprised.
"Yes, of course," their mother said impatiently, then turned back to Bree. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"
"And miss my own rehearsal dinner?" Bree asked. "Nothing could keep me away. This is my special night too."
"But your dress…"
Bree smiled. "I wasn't feeling up to wearing it and thought this would be much more comfortable."
"It certainly looks it," their mother said. She glanced nervously over her shoulder toward where their private room must have been. "But if your grandmother sees you wearing that…" Her voice trailed off.
"She'll probably faint," Bree finished for her. "Or worse. But won't it be fun?"
Their mother looked at Bree like she was seeing her daughter for the first time. She surprised Melinda by taking Bree's arm in hers, smiling, and telling the man in the suit, "This is the bride-to-be, and she is welcome at our table."
The man gaped, and only remembered to escort them there when their mother cleared her throat. And so, the four of them sauntered back to where the guests sat, waiting for dinner to be served.
Melinda had known that Bree's entrance would create a big reaction, but seeing it in action was far better than she could have predicted.
Mark was the first to notice, and his face lost three shades of color. He jumped from his seat and strode to Bree's side. His jaw was tight and his voice strained. "Darling, I wasn't expecting to see you this evening. I thought you'd be resting up for the big day tomorrow."
"I was starting to feel better and didn't want to miss out on the fun," Bree said with a sweet smile. "Which seat is mine?"
Melinda turned from the painful exchange between the two and saw that the rest of the table had now noticed Bree's unusual attire. Most of the wedding guests conveyed surprise, but their grandmother's expression was one of both shock and anger.
"Shall we make room for ourselves at the end here?" Melinda asked with a grin.
"Certainly," her mother replied, matching her smile. "And we can have them set another place for Bree next to you."
Their grandmother stood from the table and walked over to them. She narrowed her eyes and didn't bother lowering her voice. "Do you have no sense of decency? I mean, really, the bride showing up in her bathrobe?"
"I wasn't quite feeling up to dressing up, Grams," Bree said. "It takes a lot of effort to look decent, between the uncomfortable shoes and tight dress not to mention makeup and hair. It all felt like too much, but it didn't seem right that I miss my own rehearsal dinner."
"What isn't right is what your attire is conveying to Mark's family and our esteemed guests," their grandmother said.
"That I like to be comfortable when I don't feel well?" Bree asked, batting her eyelashes in mock innocence.
Their grandmother pointed a bony finger at her. "I don't know what you are playing at, but you will not ruin what your family has worked so hard to attain."
Bree's features hardened and her voice lowered to barely a whisper. "I won't be a pawn in your quest for accomplishments any longer. This wedding was supposed to be about me, and not them. But it's been nothing but a farce from the beginning." Her features brightened and she glided past their grandmother as she made her way to her seat. "It's so lovely to see everyone here," she said. "It's been so long since the last time we got together that there was no way I was going to miss it."
Melinda stared after her sister with a mixture of shock and admiration. No one in their family had ever spoken to their grandmother like that before. Ever. Their grandmother seethed, but she didn't say anything, only glared in Bree's direction before walking back to her seat.
Their mother exhaled. "That was…something. It looks like Bree is coming into her own."
"I think it's about time we all did," Melinda said. She glanced back to where Daniel stood behind her, then took his hand and led him to the table. She hoped he was serious about wanting to continue what they had started when they got back to Amor. And as she watched Bree in her bathrobe, ordering a meal that probably cost more than the dress that was still hanging in her closet a few floors up, Melinda was glad she had decided to attend her sister's wedding. Nothing had turned out as it was supposed to—it had turned out better. Her gaze traveled from her grandmother, who was still shooting daggers their way, to her mother, who was watching Bree with a small smile, to Daniel, whose hand Melinda still held. She gave it a light squeeze, and he squeezed back.
And all was right in the world.