“I guess that means I have a challenge of my own,” I said, my head resting on his chest.
He locked both arms around my shoulders and I could feel the tension I’d held there all week starting to unwind. “What’s that, honey?”
“I think I have to learn how”—I couldn’t even get half the words out before I was crying again—“to let you love me now.”
“Finally,” he said. “Something I can teach you.”
Epilogue
Whitney
Rule Number One:
Never outshine the brides.
June
“There’snothing I love more than a sunset ceremony.”
I glanced across the suite and found Meri gazing out the balcony doors, her hair still in rollers and the breeze blowing her bathrobe around her legs. “I don’t think sunset is until eight tonight and this ceremony is at five, so don’t get your heart set on anything,” I said. “Also, you need to get dressed, missy.”
“That is a massive amount of flowers,” she went on, ignoring me completely. “Look at this. Get over here, Whit, you need to see this. I think they’re bringing in—my god, they’re bringing in entire trees.Trees!”
Since my head was busy with a curling iron at the moment, I asked, “What kind of trees?”
“I want to say cherry blossom,” she said, leaning over the railing. “But you know I’m better with orchids than I am trees.”
Any minute now, the wind off the Pacific would kick up and she’d flash everyone preparing for the wedding down below. I wouldn’t say she wanted that to happen, but she wouldn’t be too broken up if it did. “You definitely know your dendrobium from your cattleya.”
“It’s going to be a big party,” she added. “I’m guessing three-fifty, four hundred. They’ve got a lot of chairs.”
“And if you’d like your ass to be in one of them, I’m gonna need you to get dressed.” I inspected a curl in the mirror before glancing back to Meri. “We have less than ninety minutes until game time and we both know you’re going to change your mind about whatever you’re doing with that hair before we leave the room. Why don’t we get moving, hmm?”
She flopped down on the bed, two rollers sliding out of her silky hair and onto the floor. “How soon are we leaving for Carmel? Because I want to be in a situation where the only thing I’m responsible for is marinating in mud for approximately six hours and none of thisget movingbusiness.”
We were six days into this summer’s vacation. Our plan was to follow the California coast from San Diego to St. Helena, with selected stops along the way. “Not until Monday. You’ll have to endure two more nights of me keeping you on schedule until you can sit in dirt.”
She lifted her head, sending the rest of the rollers flying. “We sent the gift. Right?”
I laughed at my reflection. We’d only devoted two whole Wednesday lunches to poring over the registry. “We sent the gift.”
“This is a nice spot,” she said, flipping onto her belly. “I’d get married here.”
I shot her a pointed glance. The kind that saidoh, really?andtell me more.When she acknowledged none of it, I went backto my hair. “On the lawn? Or the beach? Ooh, what about the ballroom?”
“Beach ceremony, ballroom reception. Only right answer when you’re getting married at the Hotel Del Coronado.” She scooped up her stray rollers, asking, “And what about you?”
Again and always, I burned the back of my earlobe. I swore under my breath as I fanned my ear. “Haven’t really thought about it.”
“That’s not true,” she sang as she crossed the room and took the iron from me. “Everyone has ideas. Especially people who’ve been to hundreds of weddings.”
I watched while she finished curling the last few sections for me. “I don’t know.” I waved a hand at the balcony. “You’re probably right about the beach and the ballroom.”
“No, you’d want the lawn. You’d hate walking down a sandy aisle.”
I caught her eyes in the mirror. That seemed oddly specific. “Okay.”
“And you’d want something smaller than the ballroom. More intimate. You’re not inviting the whole world after all.”
