My heart squeezes and I reply back with, Finally. Today.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Candace
It’s one-twenty, forty minutes before I’m to become Mrs. Rick Savage.
At present, I’m in a pink robe, standing in the dressing room in the section of the church used for wedding preparation, staring into a three-way mirror. My hair is glossy and around my shoulders. My makeup is pale pink perfect. Both thanks to the stylist, Jessica.
“Are you pleased?” Jessica queries eagerly, shoving long locks of curly red hair behind her ears, waiting anxiously for my reply.
I don’t know how she can be anxious at all. She’s brilliant, a true artist and suddenly, I am emotional, so very emotional, and I think I might cry.
“You did a perfect job,” I say, my voice a rasp, my eyes burning. “I love it.”
“Yay!” she says, clapping her hands. “I’m so pleased, but my job was easy. You're gorgeous. We’ll get you in your dress and your veil in,” she glances at her watch, “in about fifteen minutes. I don’t want you to have time to step on it. And you can’t sit once you put it on.”
“I think I’ll sit now, actually,” I say, making my way to the vanity chair and I ease to the cushion, grateful as it absorbs my unsteady weight.
There’s a knock on the door and Linda peeks her head in. “You nervous?”
“So bad,” I admit and I hold out my hand. “I’m trembling.”
“That’s natural,” she assures me as she steps into the room, looking gorgeous in a silver floor-length, figure-hugging gown. Each of my girls are wearing different colors. I wanted them to pick something they’d wear again and love forever.
“Everything is going as planned,” Linda says, shutting the door. “Adam has the rings. I made sure he has yours. And I brought champagne to calm your nerves.”
Seeing her dress fully now, I give her dress choice a critical inspection. The conclusion is perfection. “You look beautiful,” I proclaim and motion to her updo. “Your hair is amazing.”
“Jessica’s sister did it,” she says. “I love her.” She eyes Jessica. “And you, too.” She offers her one of the two glasses in her hand. “For you.”
Jessica waves her off. “I’d better not. I need to take care of Candace now and through her change of clothes.”
“Understood,” Linda says, “and that proves why I love you and your sister. You’re professionals.” She offers me the glass.
I try to wave it off. “Oh no,” I say. “I can’t be drunk for my wedding. Rick will think I needed to be drunk to go through with it. He’s always afraid I’ll decide I’m marrying a monster.”
“Drink,” she orders. “I know you don’t handle it well, but next to a Xanax that would knock you out, this is the next best thing. You can’t walk steadily if you’re shaking.”
She’s right. And I’m a wreck. I accept the glass and sip. “How is Rick?”
“Pacing his room, so I hear.” She sips the champagne and sets her glass on the vanity. “He sent you your ‘something new’ to wear.”
I blink. “He did?”
“He said he knew you were fretting about something new, something borrowed, and something blue, so he thought he’d cover two for one for you.” She pulls up a chair and sits beside me, slipping the small silver bag hanging at her shoulder around to her lap, as she reaches inside.
A moment later, she produces a velvet bag. “It came in a box and bag, but I took it out of the box because I didn’t have enough hands to carry it,” she explains, offering it to me.
Anxiously, I open the bag to find a thin silver bracelet with delicate little turquoise hearts dangling from the strand.
“It’s beautiful!” Linda and Jessica exclaim at the same time.
“It is beautiful,” I whisper and I give a little laugh. “I have a blue button I borrowed from Jessica pinned to my garter, and I decided my dress was new, so it counted as the something new.”
“Well you were wrong but he made it beautifully right.” Linda and Jessica say at the same time, only to laugh at the shared moment.
I try to put on the bracelet, but my hands are trembling too much to get it done. Linda orders me to drink, and then finishes the job for me. “And you can give back the button,” she says when the bracelet is secure. “I have your something old and borrowed.” She’s back to digging in the silver bag and she pulls out a mesh black bag this time.
“Surprise,” she says. “That’s special.”
Curious now, I open the bag and my heart squeezes with what I find. “My mother’s cross that she kept on her at all times.” My gaze jerks to hers. “How did you get that?”
“Your father gave it to me. He’s waiting to see you, but he knew you wouldn’t be dressed. He wanted you to place it wherever you wanted to place it in privacy.”