Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
“Gimme!” I said, launching myself up from the couch.
Emma handed Olivia over to me. “You look like Kim Karadashian.”
When Emma said it, it didn’t sound nearly so positive as when I said it.
“Have some fruit and shut up,” Holli told her, thrusting a plate into her hands.
I kissed Olivia’s head, and her cute little eyes fluttered open. She stared up at me, blinking in the universally human expression of someone who is confused as hell upon waking.
“Hello, sweetheart,” I cooed at her. “Have you been to see Grandpa this morning?”
I wasn’t looking at her, but I swore I could hear Emma’s eye roll. “Oh, yes. We have been to see Grandpa.”
“How’s he doing?” I glanced up at Emma. “He’s not going to leave me at the altar or anything?”
“Sophie Anne!” Mom exclaimed, crossing herself. “Don’t even say something like that. That’s just terrible.”
“He’s doing obnoxiously fine, Sophie,” Emma reassured me. “I’m shocked that he’s not in here marrying you right now.”
The tight knot of worry in my chest eased, and I breathed an audible sigh of relief.
I sat on the sofa, and Emma took a seat beside me. “You don’t have to doubt him. You’re the one.”
“Thanks. That really helps,” I told her then added, just to rankle her, “daughter dearest.”
Emma shook her head. “No.” Then, frowning, she said, “I’m going to need an allergy pill, with all of these flowers.”
“Oh, I know. It’s like a rainforest in here.” I’d popped half a Benadryl as soon as my eyes had started getting itchy.
“Wait, who sent those?” Mom asked, gesturing toward the huge arrangement of lilac blossoms and white roses on the side table.
“Um…I don’t know.” I hadn’t taken the time to look around the room at all the flowers people had sent. Was that a dick move on my part?
Holli jumped up and headed over to paw carefully through the blooms. “There’s a card.” She pulled it free and gasped. Holli’s big eyes canted to Emma then back to mine. “It’s probably not important.”
“No, tell me who they’re from.” I forced a laugh, but my stomach was in knots.
Shuffling across the carpet in her slippers, Holli held the card at arm’s length, like it was a bomb about to go off. “Okay, but don’t get upset.”
“Why would I get—” The first thing I saw at the bottom of the single sheet card was Valerie’s handwritten name.
My chest squeezed. Just a teensy, teensy part of me had hoped that, like in the movies, my dad would have sent them.
“So?” Mom prompted. “Who are they from?”
My gaze sought Emma’s. I couldn’t help it. I grimaced apologetically. “They’re from Valerie. Emma’s mom.”
“Then, they’ve probably got anthrax on them,” Holli snarked. I could see the hurt in Emma’s expression, but only because I knew her. No one else would’ve seen it.
“I think it’s really sweet of her,” I promised Emma, scanning the generic congratulations greeting she’d scrawled there. She’d gone to the trouble of actually visiting the florist herself, and writing out the card? That was far more than I would have expected, considering the conversation we’d had weeks ago.
“Mom can be a decent person some of the time,” Emma said quietly. I hadn’t given a thought to how it might make her feel to be here, with the family and friends of the woman who was about to marry her father. Did it feel like a betrayal of her mother? Did Emma view all of this as enemy territory?
“She’s a decent person all of the time,” I corrected her.
Shelby, the wedding planner, breezed into the room. “Ladies, we’re running a little behind schedule here.”
I reached for the printed schedule on the table in front of me, holding Olivia tighter so I wouldn’t drop her. Shelby was right. I only had an hour to wrangle into my dress, have the curlers out of my hair, and get my makeup touched up. I handed the baby off to my mom, since Emma had taken us up on eating something. After my curlers came out and April had nearly drowned me in hairspray, we headed up the stairs to the master bedroom.
My gown was on a dress form, and Pia was diligently steaming out wrinkles that must have been imaginary, because it looked just as perfect as when I’d first viewed it. Emma halted in the doorway, pausing mid-chew to mumble around a mouthful of cantaloupe, “Oh my god. That is gorgeous.”
“It’s still black,” Mom said with a disappointed sigh.
I went into the bathroom and struggled into my foundation garments. I didn’t have anything that needed to be tucked in, per se, but I did like to have everything smoothed out. Holli came in bearing two silicone “chicken cutlets” as she called them, and helped me jam them into the bra cups of my spandex slip. With much leaning over and manhandling of my boobs, I managed to get some cleavage. Then, it was time to put on the dress.