But keeping it locked inside, keeping it from her… it was like uncorking flat champagne. It tasted fine and it got the job done, but it wasn't the same.
CHAPTER 17
40 DAYS UNTIL ANNA & DRAKE'S WEDDING
ZACH
"Now, for dress," Babushka announced, "you need something vith more sparkle. That is the Dvornakov vay. Don't be so plain vith your choices."
"I don't want sparkle, Babushka," Anna protested. "I want simple and elegant."
"Simple is for funeral, ask Piper," Babushka declared. "Vedding needs life. Excitement."
Mom nodded. "Maybe just a little beading on the bodice?"
"Or a crystal belt," Heather suggested.
"What about a statement veil instead?" Sadie asked.
"Anna, what do you envision when you picture yourself walking down the aisle?" Piper gently redirected.
Anna's face gentled. "I like my dress how it is. It flows. It's comfortable. I feel like me in it."
"That's exactly what you should have," Piper said firmly. "It's your day."
"Yes, but—" Babushka started.
"And," Piper continued smoothly, "I think there are ways to honor traditions that matter to your family while staying true to your vision. Maybe we incorporate something special into the bouquet? Or a piece of jewelry that sparkles? Is there something special that Anna could use?"
Babushka paused, considering. "My mother's sapphire pins. For hair."
Anna's eyes misted. "Really? You'd let me use those?"
Everyone knew Babushka didn't let anyone touch her mother's jewelry.
"For you? Of course." Babushka beamed. "See? Sparkle!"
Zach stared, slack-jawed.
"Did Piper outmaneuver Babushka?" Jase asked, so only Zach could hear.
Babushka who once convinced an entire church congregation to move a wedding outside because she didn't care for the carpet color?
"Now I just have to hope my dress will still fit," Anna said with a laugh. But she dragged her fingers through her hair like the weight of the entire wedding rested solely on her shoulders.
"Is it tight?" Piper asked.
"No. It's fine," Anna said, scrunching up her nose like the word tasted bad. "It'll be fine. I just worry my waist is getting too big too fast."
Zach studied Piper more than he participated in the rest of the evening. She remembered everyone's names. She helped his mother bring out dessert plates. She somehow wrangled the table, making room for the cheesecake and the anatomically correct pirozhki Babushka made because she knew Piper enjoyed it last time.
When his father started complaining about the neighbors' new love of blaring backyard Ed Sheeran, Zach knew deep in his gut that the good times were officially over.
"Every night. Every single night," his dad grumbled, arms crossed like a human NO TRESPASSING sign. "People have no concept of respect."
"Aggressive Ed Sheeran is the worst," Piper said, not dismissively but with enough interest to suggest she kept a running list of personal injustices, and this one made the cut. "This is new? Because sunset Sheeran every single night is infuriating."
Zach blinked. His father blinked harder. Someone was on his side?
