They’re what?” I stop in front of To Have and To Hold, the only bridal boutique in the county, so fast that Lily bumps into me from behind.
“Golfing, honey,” Mom says again.
“Liam, Dad, and Jake?”
Mom scrunches her forehead as if I am being purposefully obtuse, then bustles Lily and me through the front doors. Dresses of every fabric and design spill off racks. Chiffon, organza, satin, and lace. Ball gowns with exorbitantly long trains, short gowns with no train at all, and everything in between. Along with veils and shoes and jewelry galore. The place is like an overstuffed wedding turkey. I turn around, ready to continue my line of questioning with Mom, but I’ve already lost her. The sudden onslaught of white has mesmerized her, drawing her in like an insect to the light. This is her happy place.
Me? I can’t seem to find one.
“Emma, you have to try this on.” Mom glides to the nearest display, her hand outstretched like she can’t resist touching the poufed skirt.
I take in the layers of bustled organza and wrinkle my nose. I did enough of this two years ago to know what looks good on my body and what doesn’t. Bustled organza might work for stick-thin, tall models. For a five-foot-four gal with some muscle on her bones? Not so much. “Mom.”
She turns. “What?”
“Why are Dad, Liam, and Jake golfing?” Jake doesn’t even like putt-putt.
Mom arches her eyebrow. “Why are you so fixated on the golf?”
“I just . . . Jake . . . doesn’t golf.” Never mind that this means Jake will be spending the entire morning with Liam, when both of us have gone out of our way to avoid him. I ran into him once this past week over at Mom and Dad’s, and the entire time he grinned at me like I was free entertainment. Now Jake is partaking in the one sport that drags on into an eternity with my smirky-faced brother, who will no doubt use that eternity to razz my poor fiancé.
Mom slides a few dresses along one of the racks. “Your father loves golf, and now that Jake is officially a part of the family, he invited him to go along.”
I worry my lip. This is no good.
Mom pulls a mermaid-style dress with one too many sequins off its hanger and holds it up to my body. “What do you think, Lily?”
Lily rubs her chin, beholding all the sparkles, then scrunches her nose and shakes her head. “How’s Liam doing?” she asks. “I haven’t seen him in a while.”
“He’s fine.” I avoid looking her in the eyes when I answer. I can tell by the tone of her question that she’s inquiring about more than Liam’s general well-being. She wants to know what he thinks about the engagement.
A young woman with bangles on each wrist offers to start us a room. Mom hands over the two dresses that have caught her attention.
“We should all get together tonight,” Lily says. “Hang out.”
“That’s a wonderful idea!” Mom runs her fingers along the train of another dress. “We could make use of the fire pit. We haven’t done that in a long time.”
I eye my best friend. She’s had a thing for my brother ever since we realized cooties were a plot devised by parents to keep boys and girls apart for as long as possible. What I can’t figure out is whether her suggestion is an excuse to hang out with Liam or if it’s her attempt to find out if Liam knows the truth.
“It could be our reward for a day of hard work.” Lily holds up her iPhone. “I’ve got a whole list of things we need to accomplish today if we’re going to pull off a wedding by the twenty-fifth.”
“The first backyard fire of the season. Your dad will love it.” Mom squeezes my elbow and gives me a reassuring smile. “Now, let’s find you a dress.”
So that’s what I do. Or try, at least. It’s hard to muster up the enthusiasm when my mind keeps playing out golf course scenarios, wherein Jake crumbles beneath the weight of Liam’s questions and spills the truth to not only him, but also my dad. I imagine the disappointment and hurt on Dad’s face. And that uncrossed item on his bucket list. It would taunt me for the rest of my life. To add even more angst to the situation, sporadic flickers of giddiness at the memory of Jake’s kiss and our hand-holding at Sawyer Farm bubble to the surface.
I need to get a grip.
Doing my best to attend to the task at hand, I nod or shake my head at the dresses Lily and Mom select, until I grow tired of all the white and head over to the bridesmaid section. I hold up a periwinkle monstrosity with an impossibly short skirt and puffy sleeves. “Hey, Lily! How about this for the maid of honor?”
She steps away from a rack and joins me.
I hang the dress up and pull out another—calf-length and seafoam green. “This would bring out your eyes.”
“Are you asking me to be your maid of honor?”
“Isn’t that assumed?”
“Wow. I’ve never been a maid of honor at a fake wedding before.”
“Shhh!” I dart a look over my shoulder.
“Don’t worry, she can’t hear.” There’s an undercurrent to Lily’s words. I can tell she wants to say something more, but she presses her lips together.
I should be grateful that she’s keeping her opinions to herself. After all, I asked Lily for her support. But her silent disapproval rankles. “You should be thrilled about this, you know. I’m giving you an excuse to dance with Liam.”
“That is one way to look at things.” She peeks at Mom, then dips her chin and leans closer. “Does your brother know?”
I shake my head, then wander toward Mom, eager to escape Lily’s questions. She follows. Halfway there I stop. Directly in front of me is the dress I’ve always envisioned wearing on my wedding day, all the way back when I was a little girl obsessed with Cinderella. It’s the dress I scoured every boutique across the upper Midwest for two years ago but could never find. Yet here it is, in this bridal shop not more than twenty minutes from my home. A strapless ball gown with a sweetheart neckline, a chapel train, intricate beadwork, and an accompanying jacket.
“It’s beautiful,” Lily says.
“It’s perfect.” I run my fingers along the lace sleeve of the jacket, then check the tag. “And it’s my size.”
Lily and I smile at each other. Fake wedding or not, we can’t help ourselves. I take the dress off the rack and hurry toward the changing room. The woman with the bangles assists, zipping and buttoning and adjusting, while Lily and Mom wait impatiently outside, telling us to hurry up already.
When I step out of the changing room, Mom’s eyes fill with tears.
I take in my reflection, and that giddy feeling swells. I twirl, relishing the rustling sound the skirt makes, and smooth my hand over my waist.
Mom dabs her eyes with a wadded-up tissue. “I have to buy it for you.”
“No way.” The words come too quickly, but there’s no way I’m letting her spend a dime on this wedding. Even if it weren’t fake, even if Jake and I were planning on actually being married, my parents have a mountain of medical bills to climb. “I have money saved up.”
“And it’s half off,” the woman with the bangles adds.
The front doors of To Have and To Hold swing open, letting in a gust of chilly autumn air. Jake strides inside, so out of the blue I don’t have time to react. When he spots me in front of the mirror, he stops, his dark hair ruffled from the wind. His attention travels up the length of the dress, then lands on my face, but before I can decode his expression Mom jumps out of her seat and throws herself in front of me like a shield. “Jake, you can’t see her!”
“Mom—”
“It’s tradition, Emma. He can’t see you in your dress. It’s bad luck!” She holds up her hands. “Jake, close your eyes!”
Jake covers his eyes with his palms.
“Mom, this is silly.” Not to mention confusing. Jake isn’t supposed to be here. He’s supposed to be out on the golf course with Liam and Dad. I look around my mother. “Jake, you don’t have to cover your eyes.”
“Yes, he does!” She shoves me toward the changing room.
I go willingly and hurry out of the dress as fast as one can hurry out of a wedding gown. By the time I’m back in my jeans, hoodie, and cross trainers, I’ve had plenty of time to replay the look on Jake’s face—panicked before he saw me, stunned after. I’m not sure which one has me hurrying more. As soon as I step out of the dressing room, Jake takes my elbow. “Can I speak with you for a second?”
“Sure, of course.” I glance at Lily, then follow him outside. “What’s wrong?”
“Liam knows.”
“What?”
“Your brother. He knows.”
“How?”
“You know Liam. He was asking so many questions, and he wouldn’t let me get away with half answers. Finally, I had to pull him aside and tell him what was going on.”
The warmth drains from my face. “What did he say?”
“He laughed.”
“He laughed?”
Jake rubs the back of his neck and nods.
“Is he going to say anything?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You didn’t ask him?”
“We didn’t have much time.”
A groan slips past my lips. I do not want to talk to Liam about any of this. I especially don’t want to hear him express the same doubts Lily did.
“I’m sorry, Emma.”
“You have no reason to apologize. I’m the one who’s put you in such an awkward position.”
“Actually, I asked you, remember?”
I look down at the ground and cross my arms to ward off the chill in the air.
“That was a really pretty dress.”
When I look up, Jake stands closer than before. “Thanks.”
Mom pokes her head outside. “Hey you two, Lily had the most fabulous idea!”
Jake and I turn our heads toward her at the same time.
“I was telling her how your father and I are taking dance lessons tomorrow night. She thought you two should join us. Practice up for your first dance as a married couple.”
Another groan pushes up my throat, but I swallow it down.
“So . . .” Mom beams at us. “What do you say?”
I squint against the sun and start to shake my head, because I am not going to make Jake suffer through dance lessons. But he shifts behind me. “Sounds like fun.”
If only his voice didn’t drip with uncertainty.