PROLOGUE
Three months ago
Blue—
A long white wedding dress hangs from the drapery rod, the sunlight filtering through the rows of lace flounces. The train goes all the way to the floor and pools on the carpet.
My sister sits at Mama’s dressing table, doing her makeup.
Our eyes meet in the mirror. She sees me peeking through the door and smiles.
“Just think, Luisa,” she says. “Soon it will be your gown hanging there. Perhaps next summer.”
Her proclamation fills me with dread. Marriage is the last thing I want.
“Hush, Consuela,” my mother says, brushing her oldest daughter’s long hair. “Today is your day, not your sister’s.” Mama turns to me. “Run down and make sure the wedding consultant has things well in hand. Tell me if she needs anything.”
I roll my eyes, but close the door and go to my room where my friends, Carmen, Marcela, and Ramona wait. Mama let me invite them since they’re here so often that they’re practically family. My two cousins are also here. Alba, the older, and Estrella, the younger one.
Alba sits in a chair by the window, fanning her face. “Why is it so hot in here?”
Alba is a complainer. She’s also always up in my business.
“There are too many people in this room. Can’t we go outside?” Carmen asks.
“We’ll dirty our gowns,” Alba snaps back.
My two cousins and I are bridesmaids, and my sister’s best friend is her maid of honor. Along with her groom’s two sisters, that makes six of us standing up for Consuela.
“Marcela and Ramona and I aren’t part of the wedding. Why do we have to wait up here?” Carmen asks.
Alba rolls her eyes. “Fine. Go. You’re not important, anyway.”
“Alba,” I snap. “What a thing to say. They’re important to me.” I turn to Carmen and lift my chin. “Mama wants me to check that the wedding planner doesn’t need anything. Come with me.”
My friends follow me down the stairs.
“Is your cousin always this bitchy?” Ramona asks in a whisper.
“Usually. She’s just like her mother. My Tia Maria is the same way. She always has something to say, and it’s never nice.”
“Good thing your mother isn’t like her. Are they sisters?” Marcela asks, following me out the front door and across the porch.
“No. Tia Maria is my father’s sister. She and my uncle Tony are twins, but he doesn’t live here. He’s only in town for the wedding.”
We cross the grounds of my father’s land. Sanchez Pecans has been in our family for over a hundred years. My father is very proud of that fact, and our family is very prominent in Las Cruces.
My great grandfather even helped build the Catholic church almost a hundred years ago.
Carmen throws her arm around me. “You okay?”
Carmen and I are closest in our group. “I’m fine. Why?”
“I heard what your sister said. Her voice carried across the hall.”
“Oh.”
“So, I know you are not fine.”
