“What the bride wants, the bride gets.”
Ava and the other bridesmaids have already finished up and are bustling around. Grandma Thompson surprised us with wood-fired pizzas from Mama Tig’s, assuming we’d be hangry way before we got to eat again at the reception. Smart woman.
Ava’s nibbling on a slice, pacing and muttering about everything that needs to be done and what might be forgotten now that Evelyn is out of the picture. She’s starting to stress again. I’ve been preoccupied and need to focus on the bride.
I’m about to ask her if I can do anything. Then stiffen. Fran’s lurking on the porch, phone pressed to her ear. I lean toward Tonya and pitch my voice low. “What’s she up to now?”
Fran seems to be growing more agitated with every gesture and clipped word.
“Who knows?” Tonya makes a face. “But I feel sorry for whoever she’s talking to.”
“Right?”
Fran shades her eyes and peeks in the window.
Tonya waves at her and whispers, “Oh man, she is exhausting.” She cringes. “Oops. Did I say that out loud?”
I laugh. “Ava didn’t hear. She’s wandering away up the stairs.”
Apparently, this is the moment Fran was waiting for. She rushes inside, nearly tripping on the rug, but it doesn’t slow her down.
She hovers over us and whispers, “Shh, don’t react. The photographer just called. His car broke down halfway here. He’s not going to make it in time for prewedding photos! And what if he doesn’t make it at all?”
“What did you say?” Ava screeches in high pitch as she descends the stairs, her phone in hand.
“Oh, honey.” Fran straightens. “I’m sure he’ll make it for the actual wedding. He just has to.”
Ava’s shoulders sag, and the crease between her eyebrows sinks deeper than ever. When she reaches the bottom step, she slumps onto it. “What’s happening? Is this and everything else a sign? Am I making a mistake getting married this weekend?”
“No!” Tonya, Fran, and I say in unison. We rush to her, sitting around her in a protective circle.
Tonya rubs her back. “Everything is going to be fine. You guys are meant to be together. Either it’s a huge unfortunate coincidence or Satan’s at work trying to keep a perfect pair apart, standing, as always, between anything wholesome or lovely. Don’t let doubt creep in. You’re getting married tonight…and just think of all the stories you can tell your kids someday about your wedding.”
Ava laughs through a sniffle, and everyone starts to relax.
Tonya pushes Ava’s hair behind her shoulders. “Plus, we can all take pictures with our phones before the ceremony and while we get ready. We’re on it.”
There’s a murmur of agreement, and Ava nods, wiping her tears with her sleeve. “But what if he doesn’t make it by the time the ceremony starts?”
“I’m sure he will, honey,” Fran says.
“Wait a minute.” I straighten. “What about Will and Hudson’s cousin Emma? She has her camera, remember?”
Ava lifts her head and meets my gaze, her features softening.
I squeeze her shoulder. “She could take photos of us getting ready until he arrives.”
Fran is nodding like a bobblehead. “And she could be the backup for the wedding if it comes to that! Oh, this is lovely. Ava, do you have her number?”
“No, but I have Will’s. He could text her.”
Ava lifts her phone. She’s still for a moment. A slow smile widens her lipsticked mouth. She taps away, a glint in her eye. “I need to run up and finish something. Morgan can call Will. I just sent his number to your phone.”
Wait. What? “You could have texted him in that time!”
Fran stands, clapping her hands again. “Okay, enough tears! No puffy eyes for the wedding! Ava, hand over the list.”
Ava shrugs and fishes it from her pocket and turns it over.
