“I can go barefoot.”I grin.
“No, you won’t.”
“Fine, I’ll fix yours.”
“You can’t just glue them.”
I pull at the right side of the heel, trying to tuck the satin edge in.When I release it, the fabric sags again, flopping open like a gaping wound.
“Broken.I told you,” Mari insists.
“I can fix it.”I lean over the shoe.
Her eyes fill with tears.“You can’t fix it, Nova.It’s too late.”
I set the heel down and take her hand.“I’m sorry I couldn’t find that recording of Mom singing.I know how special it was to you and how much it would have meant to include it.I’m sorry I’ve let you down in the past.I’m sorry if I didn’t notice when you were struggling.But we’re all doing our best, Mar.What looks easy from the outside isn’t always”—I think of Clay—“and even when things aren’t perfect…” I take my sister’s face in my hands, careful not to smudge her makeup.“They can be really good.”
My sister blinks as if seeing me for the first time.
“Now come on,” I say with a smile.“Let’s get you to your wedding.”
We head down the stairs, and my attention catches on the flowers pinned to the railing.
The wire is covered in white satin.
I unwind a strip, and a flower comes off with it.Mari gasps."What are you doing?"
I hold out a hand for the shoe, and she passes it to me, still shocked.
I take the shoe and use the strip of decorated wire to wrap around the fabric, covering the tear.
"There."
"It's not even."She hesitates."Do the other one, too?"
It’s not until all the girls are finally ready to walk down the aisle that I miss Mom and Dad.
Now I'm sitting at the end of the aisle, feeling a pang of regret that they weren’t here to watch Mari walk down the aisle, too.
I can’t think about that now, with the music swelling and my sister’s face peeking out from the doorway.
The music starts, and the procession begins.
On my walk down the aisle, I don’t see the guys, but when I turn to face the rows of guests, it’s impossible to miss the tall, handsome men in the back.
Mari appears at the end of the aisle.Her hair is half twisted up and half loose, the mermaid dress sexy and modern and so very Mari.I’m thrilled to see her so happy.
Pictures snap.
Mari smiles, her eyes only on Harlan, and starts down the aisle, a riot of pink flowers erupting from her hands, shades matching her lipstick and flushed cheeks.
She looks every bit the bride, even in a broken shoe, and I don’t notice the flower until she’s almost at the front.
I rub the back of my neck to ease the tension.It’s not that big a difference.
But it is.
A small sign of her meltdown.It’s the tiniest crack in perfection.
