Aimee proceeded to show Wendy how she intended to assure her happily ever after by appeasing some ridiculous superstition with handkerchiefs, jewelry and garters.
I took that opportunity to lean in and pose the question I was dying to ask.
“Hey, Carrie, did you happen to see… him?”
“Sorry, doll. No sign yet.” Carrie shook her head. “But you know Dale—he loves to make an entrance, right?”
Wendy frowned, overhearing our conversation. “If he doesn’t show up, who are you going to walk down the aisle with?”
“He’ll be here,” Aimee insisted with far more confidence than I felt.
“It’s pretty close to the finish line, that’s all,” Wendy mumbled.
“Did you see my mom?” Aimee asked. “She said she was going to see if it was time yet. That was twenty minutes ago.”
Carrie nodded. “She’s out there talking to Dale’s dad.”
I glanced at the door, thinking about John—Dale’s father. Last night, I’d spent the night at Aimee’s, of course, but after we had our hair done together, we had parted ways. Aimee went back to her place, and I had gone home. The only home I had now. John had been amazing, taking me in after what I called my other life. He had taken me in because Dale loved me, but I knew John loved me too. He treated me like a daughter and I looked at him as a father. It was true, he already had a daughter—but never saw her. And I had a father—but I’d never even seen a picture of him.
We had driven to the church together, after I straightened John’s untidy tie and made sure his long, dark hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail. I remembered how we’d exchanged glances—he said was coming. He promised. But we didn’t say anything.
We’d lived together, all three of us—Dale, John and me—in a little townhouse just outside of the Rutgers’ campus, for two years. Two years of hit-and-miss Dale, but always steady, kind John. I couldn’t have asked for a better replacement father figure if I’d dreamed him up, and I was more than grateful for the man who had taken me in like a stray puppy out of a storm.
All because Dale Diamond had chosen me.
And I had to admit, I was still head over heels for him. Just thinking about him coming through that door, his slow, sexy smile, the dark light in his eyes when he saw me, made my heart gallop like wild horses. I imagined him taking three long strides and sweeping me into his arms, kissing me so hard my lips would bruise—not that I would care—and whispering my name again and again, as if he wasn’t quite sure I was real.
Where are you, Dale Diamond?
Outside, music began. Aimee’s head came up and she turned to look toward the sound like a deer caught in headlights, eyes widening, mouth dropping open.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, and I saw her hands tremble a little as she gripped her bouquet. “Oh my God, you guys, I’m getting married!”
“We know!” We chorused, all three of us bridesmaids half-laughing, half-crying already, as we surrounded her in a sashay show of soft pink satin support. I had never seen my best friend look more beautiful or radiant—and now, more nervous. We’d been through everything together, and she was now about to sail through to this new, uncharted territory—marriage. Living together with one person. Forever.
I didn’t know how it was going to change our friendship and that scared me a little, but we’d been best friends since grade school. I couldn’t imagine a life without Aimee. I was thrilled for her, so much in love, so healthy and lovely and happy. It really was picture perfect, a snapshot that deserved to be saved in time.
As if on cue, the photographer came in again—they’d done all the pre-wedding shots already—carrying a big digital camera. We didn’t really pay attention to him. We were too busy fussing over Aimee, her dress and veil and hair and make-up, as he started taking candids, but I knew these were memories the bride would look back on with a sort of gauzy, sweet fondness for the rest of her life.
A day made of perfection.
What more could you ask for in a wedding?
So why, I wondered, as I took a step back, watching Carrie and Wendy ready Aimee’s long train, did it all make me feel so sad?
Because I want Dale.
The realization was a stab to my belly. It was true. I did want him. I wanted him and I wanted this. This together, forever, moving forward with him, starting a life. I wanted a wedding, a marriage, a start, all those things he’d promised me when he got down on one knee in front of thirty-thousand people two years ago and proposed. I looked at the ring on my hand—a tiny little diamond, but it meant so much. His promise. Our life together.
But I couldn’t have what Aimee had. Not yet. I had to wait.
And the waiting was killing me.
“It’s time!” Aimee’s mother popped her head into the door with a stage-whisper, and I saw tears in Mrs. Wells’ eyes when she saw her only daughter turn toward her in her wedding dress, Aimee’s gorgeous red hair piled high, her cheeks as pink as her bridesmaids’ dresses. Linda Wells was a single mom, a hard-working lawyer, smart and sharp and always well-dressed, but she turned to a puddle at the sight of her baby girl about to get married.
I couldn’t help but think of my mother and the thought made me want to cry too.
Enough, I told myself. This is Aimee’s day. Get your head out of the way.