A Wedding in December

Was her judgment off? It wouldn’t be the first time, but the fact that her sister kept using their parents as evidence that a whirlwind relationship could sustain in the long term, concerned her. You only needed evidence if you were trying to prove something. You only needed to prove something if you doubted it.

She shouldn’t need evidence, should she? She should know. And if Rosie was so excited about getting married, why did she seem so tense? It couldn’t be workload, because Catherine seemed to be doing all the work. And that was another thing that bothered Katie. Rosie was a romantic. She’d played weddings with her dolls. She’d made bouquets with daisies from the garden. Surely she should want more say on the detail of her own special day?

“The sparkle lifts it, I think.” Catherine was focused on the dress again, making notes on her phone and adding a few recommendations of her own. “Instead of the silk wrap, try it with the faux fur. It will be warmer.”

Without thinking, Katie shrugged off the silk and heard Rosie gasp.

“What happened to your shoulder?”

She’d been so preoccupied with weddings, she’d forgotten about her shoulder. “Nothing.”

“Nothing? Katie, you have a huge scar. You’ve hurt yourself.”

“I fell, that’s all and it’s healing well.” Katie grabbed the fur wrap from Catherine with a quick smile of thanks. “No need for drama.”

But of course Rosie wasn’t going to let it go that easily. “Fell how? Where?”

“Through a glass door. Silly me. Forget it, it’s embarrassing. I love this fur.” She turned sideways and looked at her reflection in the mirrored walls of the store. “It’s warm and it has a certain glamour, don’t you think?”

Rosie wasn’t looking at the fur. “Why would you fall through a glass door?”

“I lost my balance. I was wearing heels. You know what I’m like in heels. Lethal.”

“No, I don’t know.” Rosie was frowning. “I’ve never known you struggle in heels. And I’ve never known you lose your balance. It doesn’t seem like you.”

“I was tired after a long shift.”

“So why were you wearing heels? Were you on a date?”

Katie bit back a hysterical laugh. “Not exactly. Can we stop talking about this? It wasn’t my finest moment.” It was probably the first truthful statement she’d made about that night. “This fur is great, I think, don’t you, Catherine?”

“I like it.” Catherine gave her a long, steady look and then smiled. “We need to decide what to do with your hair. Your cut is—unusual.”

Katie fiddled with the ends, grateful that Catherine was supporting the change of subject. “That’s because I used the kitchen scissors.” She saw Dan’s mother physically flinch. “I know. It’s a crime, but there you go. It was getting on my nerves and I didn’t have time to get to the salon. The scissors were clean, I promise.”

To her credit, Catherine recovered quickly. “I suppose we should be grateful it wasn’t a scalpel, and it’s nothing that our stylist at the lodge can’t sort out. I’ll call her right now and she can fit you in this afternoon. I thought maybe a loose updo for the wedding.” She gathered up Katie’s kitchen-scissored hair and twisted it gently. “Something subtle and pretty. Rosie, show your sister your dress.”

Katie wondered if Rosie found it strange to be trying on dresses without their mother there. And how did their mother feel about it?

Apparently her parents had an alternate engagement doing something romantic.

Rosie vanished and reappeared with a flourish, wearing her wedding dress.

Katie felt a thickening in her throat, a surge of emotion that blocked speech. Love. It had filled her heart from the first moment her mother had carefully put her newborn sister into her arms. Be careful. Support her head. Don’t drop her. She’d grown up understanding that love brought with it anxiety. She’d seen it in her mother’s face during her sister’s first asthma attack, and again every time her sister started to wheeze. She’d seen a lot of things in her time working in emergency medicine, but there wasn’t much that was more frightening than not being able to pull air into your lungs. She’d watched her mother closely, noticing how she stayed calm even when she didn’t feel calm. Katie had copied that, not knowing then that it was a skill she would use time and time again in the future with frightened pat

ients and scared relatives. She’d sat quietly by Rosie’s bed, forgotten and ignored, not understanding the medical terms but having no trouble understanding the grave expressions of the medical team. There had been times when her body hadn’t felt big enough to contain all the love she felt for her sister. She hadn’t only felt the weight of that fragile bundle in her hands, she’d felt it in her heart.

Was this why she found it so hard to have a lasting relationship with someone?

Subconsciously had she held back from experiencing that intense, terrifying depth of feeling?

She moved through life with such purpose, she rarely stopped to reflect.

Had she, somewhere along the way, rejected love?

Maybe not love, but vulnerability. She’d rejected vulnerability. She witnessed it constantly in her work. The fear in the face of a relative, the panic in the face of a patient who felt life sliding out of control.

Her experiences in her job had reinforced those same feelings of helplessness she’d experienced as a young child and she’d unconsciously wrapped her heart in layers of protection so that she felt the blows less.