Page 152 of Meant for Mayhem

I rolled my eyes. “That seems dramatic.”

“So does wearing a jumpsuit this low cut in the back, but to each their own, I guess.”

I caught her reflection in the mirror, and she grinned.

My outfit wasn’t traditional, but neither was anything else about this marriage. The fitted black fabric hugged my waist, then swept the floor, simple except for the sheer sleeves and the embroidered roses climbing from the cuffs. My hair was curled and hanging down my bare back, exposed with the low-cut design.

No white. No sequins. No tiara, despite Stevie’s repeated attempts.

Just me.

Lori finally got the zipper up, then smoothed the fabric against my hips.

“There.” She rested both hands on my waist. “Perfect.”

I looked at our reflections, memorizing this moment. Lori wore a turquoise dress that matched her eyes, her white-blonde hair curled around her face. The tremor in her hands was more noticeable today, either from exertion or emotion, but she was here in my bedroom, helping me get ready for my wedding.

“You’re going to make me cry,” I said.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“But you’re looking at me.”

“Well, I can stop if that helps.”

“It would.”

She turned toward the door, and I reached out to grab her wrist.

“Not literally.”

Lori laughed, then looked at me again. Her eyes shone this time, and there was no hiding behind a joke.

“I used to picture this,” she said.

“My wedding?”

“Your future.” She took my hand and drew me closer. “When you were little, sitting in my classroom pretending you didn’t need me, I would look at you and wonder where you’d end up. What you’d do. Who you’d become.”

I swallowed down the pressure building in my throat. “That sounds dangerously sentimental.”

“I’m old. I’m allowed.”

I pressed my lips together.

Lori traced her thumb across the back of my hand. “I knew you’d get out of that house. I knew you’d build a life for yourself. But this…” She looked around the bedroom, toward the windows overlooking the backyard where several rows of white folding chairs were arranged on the lawn, full of our friends and family. “This is better than anything I imagined, and everything you always deserved.”

“I wouldn’t have made it here without you,” I said.

“Yes, you would have.”

“Lori.”

“You would,” she insisted, brushing my hair over my shoulder with a trembling hand. “You’ve always found a way.”

I turned to face her, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. She held me tight, her cheek resting against mine.

“You were my family first,” I whispered. “My very first choice.”