She adjusts it now as she stands in front of the mirror, straightening it and meeting our eyes.
“I look good?”
“Of course you do,” Poppy says with a smile that’s nearly as emotional as Juliet’s.
“Yes,” Juliet practically wails, and I nudge her.
“Waterproof makeup is not equipped for your level of crying,” I tell her, but I almost feel bad saying it. Because the truth is, even though I’m not a cryer, I will be today. Have been a lot over the past year, in fact. But my heart is so full of beauty and love and precious moments, and those feelings keep trying to spill out of me.
“You look perfect,” I reassure India, beaming at her.
“Felix will die,” Jules says.
“Because you’re so radiant,” I add. “And if he does anything else, we will kill him.”
Poppy nods fervently at this. “Murder. Premeditated. First-degree.”
“So either way…” I go on.
India laughs, and then she turns to face us. Her dress doesn’t require extra hands to maneuver; she simply lifts the skirt and then lets it settle in place again.
The door to the dressing room opens, and in steps Stella Piorra, India’s fourth bridesmaid. She used to live in Lucky, close to our family, and she and India were best friends growing up. She’s since moved, but she and her husband, Jack, came back for the wedding.
“I think everything is ready,” she says, sweeping her blonde hair over her shoulder as her dress swishes. It’s the same dress we’re all wearing—a forest green gown with sleeves that hit just past our elbows and brush our knees. She looks at Jules, Poppy, and I and adds, “You know, I accidentally went to an Alcoholics’Anonymous meeting in this building one time. I thought I was going to book club.”
I snort with laughter as India grins; Juliet’s jaw has dropped, her eyes popping wide.
But Stella just nods. “It was not great.”
“Those were Stella’s Dark Ages,” India says. “You’ve begun a new chapter.”
We all head for the door of the little room, opening it wide for India. She slips through, her steps light. Our mom appears just as we reach the hallway, wearing a green dress the same color as ours and sporting a red face.
“I was just coming for you,” she says, a little out of breath. Her eyes go wide and bright just like Juliet’s did earlier, her lip trembling. “I see you’re already ready, though—oh,Indy.” She steps forward and hugs India, her arms all-enveloping as she squeezes her. “My beautiful girl.” Then she steps back and strokes India’s hair. “You’re feeling all right? No cold feet?”
India’s smile couldn’t grow any wider. “No cold feet. None at all.”
She means every word, I see—not that I’m surprised.
“I always told myself I’d offer you all a way out up until the moment you say ‘I do,’” our mom says, her eyes jumping between us. “A mother worries about her children marrying the wrong person, and if you feel any concern or hesitation, that’s something to pay attention to. But—oh, your father and I do love Felix.” She beams at India again.
“If Felix could be best friends with Cyrus for so long, there’s clearly a level of sainthood involved,” I say.
All of us grin—except my mom.
“Don’t say that about your brother,” she says, shooting me a disapproving expression. “Speaking of which—where is he?”
And, as though she’s conjured him out of thin air, Cyrus appears—he strides around the corner, clearly confident innavigating the maze of hallways in the basement of this church. By his side is none other than Felix.
“Felix!” Juliet says. “You’re not supposed to see the bride before the wedding!”
But Felix doesn’t even hear her. I know he doesn’t. His eyes are on India, his steps faltering as his gaze finds her.
He approaches her slowly, wearing an expression I’ve never seen. India seems familiar with it, though, as she radiates the kind of joy I’m only just beginning to understand. She moves toward him until they’ve reached each other, clasping hands and staring into each others’ eyes.
It is, on the whole, either very sweet or very disgusting. I can’t tell which.
“Tell me truthfully,” Cyrus says abruptly, and the two of them startle out of their haze. But he directs his words at India. “Are yousureyou want to do this?”
