Her grin gets huge. “Good. That’s exactly what I wasgoingfor.”
“Any signs of cold feet? You seem remarkably calm, considering the rehearsal dinner is one day away and you’ll be an old married croneintwo.”
She turns to face me. “Surprisingly, I’m not nervous at all. I thought I would be, but mostly I’m just… excited.” Her eyes sparkle. “I’ve wanted to marry Nathaniel Xavier Knox since I was five years old. I can’t wait to finally behiswife.”
“Sap,” I accuse, sniffling likeawimp.
“Priss,” she fires back, blinking awaytears.
We grin at eachother.
“Do you want to try on your dress again?” she asks, turning back to the mirror. “I can have them bring it outforyou.”
“I’ve already had four fittings,” I remind her. “Frankly, that was three too many, in myopinion.”
She laughs. “I’m sorry if I’ve gone a little Bridezilla on you, these past few months. I just want everything to beperfect.”
“And itwillbe.”
She heaves a happy sigh. “I could live inthisgown.”
“You’ve tried it on so many times, I think you might.” Setting down my mimosa, I cross to a nearby mannequin where a beautiful, cascading sample veil is on display. I trace one finger down the delicate lace needlework. “What exactly is the function ofaveil?”
“It’s symbolic of chastity and virginity.” She tilts her head. “But since that ship sailed long ago, I’m just wearing one because I think they’rebeautiful.”
“Huh. I always thought they were to hide an ugly girl from her groom in arranged marriages, so he couldn’t back out until it was too late.” I drop my hand from the embroidery. “Or maybe to weigh down an unwilling bride, so she couldn’trunaway.”
Phoebe snorts. “Romantic.”
“That’s me. Queen ofromance.”
“Speaking of…” Her eyes narrow. “Are you bringing a date to the wedding? You were supposed to tell meweeksago. I love you dearly, but there’s only so many times I’m willing to rearrange the bridal party table. If you don’t fill your extra seat, we’re going to have an odd number duringdinner.”
“Thehorror!”
She ignores me, fully focused on visions of her seating chart. “I suppose I could bump my great aunt Mindy…but she’s has cataracts in both eyes and never has any idea who she’s talking to, which could potentially make for awkward dinnerconversation…”
“Poor Mindy. Bumped from the family table?” I shake my head. “She’ll never even see itcoming.”
Phoebe refocuses on me. “Was that ablindjoke?”
“Of course not.” I smile. “I’d never resort to such visionlesshumor.”
She shakes her head indisapproval.
I sigh. “Jokes aside — I have no idea who I’m bringing to the wedding. I haven’t really been seeing anyonelately.”
Phoebe’s mouthdropsopen.
“What?” I ask, voice defensive. “What’s thelookfor?”
“It’s just a bit out of character, that’s all.” Her head tilts to the side as she examines me like I’m a stranger, instead of her best friend since kindergarten. “You always have a line of eligible male suitors clamoring to escort you to fashionable events all across this fine city.What’sup?”
“Nothing.” I take another sip of my mimosa. “Just haven’t been in the dating mood recently, Isuppose.”
“You? Not in thedatingmood?”
“Don’t slut-shame. It’spassé.”