“I don’t hold you responsible for anything your mother did,” she said softly. “I love you dearly. You’re my granddaughter. I want to share this memory with you. I’ve been saving the dress all these years, hoping for this moment to come.”
Across the table, Cassie smiled triumphantly.
“I, of course, could never take the dress,” Cassie said in fake innocence. “It’s much too big for me, and I wouldn’t feel right cutting it down. But it would fit you perfectly.”
“It may be too small,” I said.
“At least try it on!” Dottie exclaimed. “It would make me so happy! I already brought it out of the box and gave it a good steam.”
She hustled me into the next room. A voluminous bright-white dress was laid out over the couch. It was festooned in lace, bows, and ruffles and screamed 1980s wedding.
“Here,” Dottie said, tugging off my sweater. “Try it on. You and I are the same size and build, though I don’t have those tatas.” She helped me step into the dress and sighed.
“I loved my wedding dress. It was always my dream that my daughter would wear it. Of course, then I had your father, and your stepmother wanted her own dress, and Cassie didn’t want to wear it,” she said, feeding my arms through lace sleeves with huge puffs on the upper arms and shoulders.
“My wedding was the happiest day of my life. I’ve kept this dress in pristine condition.” Dottie buttoned it up, and the heft of it dragged at my shoulders and hips.
“Oh, Avery!” she exclaimed as I turned around. “Just look at you! You’re so beautiful!”
I walked slowly into the hallway, where my grandmother had a huge mirror. Moving in the dress was like swimming in molasses. The petticoats, the bows, and the fifteen-foot-long satin train weighed it down.
Think, Avery, you cannot wear this dress. It will be the death knell of your wedding-planning dreams. No one will take you seriously if you get married in this dress.
But my grandmother was crying tears of joy, and the guilt was gnawing at me.
“Aww, look at Avery,” my half sister said, coming out into the hallway, drink in hand. “She has to wear this dress, don’t you think, Mother?” Cassie smirked at me.
My stepmother took a sip of her drink. “Yes, Dottie, this was such a wonderful idea. This dress suits Avery perfectly. Let’s see it with the whole package though.”
I tried not to cringe as my grandmother placed a veil that was starched to within an inch of its life on my head. Instead of the ethereal lacy veil of my dreams, this one stuck up on top like a Vegas showgirl crown then cascaded down my back in heavy layers of starched lace to join the train of the dress on its death march behind me.
“Please say you’ll wear this dress,” Dottie begged. “It would be a dream come true.”
I looked at the long lace sleeves, the layers of taffeta, and the enormous bow at the back of the dress. Then I looked into my grandmother’s hopeful, teary face.
“I guess I’m saying yes to this dress!” I said helplessly.
47
Blade
“We’re planning your bachelor party,” Weston announced when I arrived back at the estate house. There were boxes of pizza lying around, and several of my brothers were nursing hangovers.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” I replied.
“Nonsense! We have to go out on the town.”
“Maybe we could just have a bachelor party at home,” I suggested.
“Yes!” Davy exclaimed through the half-eaten pizza in his mouth. “Then we can come!”
Weston snorted. “A bachelor party means bar hopping, strippers, and Vegas.”
“No,” Hunter barked. “No Vegas. No strippers. Anyone who even thinks about a strip club is getting disowned and shipped out to the West Coast with Salinger.”
“Can we just do something low-key?” I begged.
“Ugh,fine, I guess we’re not spending a week in Mexico.”
