Val jerked her head over her shoulder, as if I’d surprised her, but her expression eased quickly. “It’s almost time,” she said, packing up her makeup bag. “Where are your boots?”
“Shoebox in my closet.”
“I’ll get them ready,” she said on her way out.
Tiffany whipped a mascara wand from its tube like a sword from a sheath. She nodded at me. “Look at the ceiling.”
As Tiffany attacked my bare lashes and my mother fluffed my generally unfluffable-able dress hanging on the back of the bathroom door, I wondered what was going on with Val. She wasn’t a lesbian, even if she sometimes pretended to be to mess with people, but she definitely had a secret. She’d planned my bachelorette party, a trip to Napa Valley with our friends from each coast, and she’d been available to help with anything wedding-related—but I’d noticed her withdrawing from me the past year. I’d thought maybe I’d been ignoring her too much for Manning, but when I’d asked to come spend a weekend at her house in Los Angeles recently, she’d made up some excuse about getting it fumigated. Val could charm and convince and deflect like a pro, but when it came to the people she cared about, she was a shit liar. In the flurry of wedding activity, I hadn’t had a chance to get to the bottom of her behavior, though.
“I’ll make sure everyone’s getting seated,” Mom said, leaving me alone with Tiffany.
And her boobs.
They nearly spilled out of her strapless dress and into my lap as she put the final touches on my makeup. Most likely, she’d picked a size smaller than she needed. “I think you hurt Val’s feelings,” I said.
“She doesn’t have any,” Tiffany replied. “Part your lips.”
I slackened my jaw as she finished off my makeup with a pale pink gloss. She stepped aside to give me the mirror. For all her extravagance, she’d always been good at keeping my look natural. I angled my head, rounding my cheeks as they glowed and shimmered.
Tiffany held out a hand mirror. “For the back.”
I stood and turned. Topped by Val’s crown of flowers, my hair fell—nay, cascaded—in long loose curls. “You should’ve been a cosmetologist, Tiff.”
“I know.” She circled me as if I were a science project. “I’m so glad you let your hair grow out a little. Anything above the shoulders doesn’t suit you.” She cocked her head. “But I think you need more makeup for pictures.”
Whenever I dressed up for a night out with Manning, he’d treat me like a princess—but once we got home and he unhooked my jewelry, slid off my heels, unzipped my dress, and unpinned my hair, I became a goddess under his worship. For him, less would always be more. “It’s perfect,” I said.
“Fine, but come see me between the ceremony and pictures for a touch-up. And try not to cry.”
I turned to my sister. She’d pulled her hair back into a chignon, and her icy blue eyes warmed against shimmery skin and long, jet-black lashes. She looked different—from me and from herself. Today of all days, there was a stillness in her I’d rarely seen. It made little sense considering she’d have every reason to be upset, or to have blown off the wedding entirely. I grabbed her for a hug. “Thank you,” I said.
It took her a moment, but she patted me on the back. “Okay, okay. I can’t have my sister looking sloppy on her wedding day.”
“I meant thank you for being here,” I said with a laugh as I pulled back to look her in the face. “Are you okay with all of this, or are you pretending?”
She blinked at me. “You’ve seen me and Robby together, right? He loves me so much that the little stuff doesn’t matter anymore.” She rolled her eyes. “Not that your wedding is little—geez. Sorry. Robby says people are intimidated by me, and I should be more careful with my words.”
Oh, my sister. She hadn’t changed, but she was trying—I supposed I had to give her some credit for that. At this point, aside from developing a little empathy, I wasn’t sure I even wanted her to change that much. When she was no longer a threat to me, her behavior was kind of entertaining. “I’m not intimidated by you,” I said, “but I used to be.”
“Really? I could see that. Big sister and all.” She grinned. “Anyway, I’m not sure I’d be here today if I hadn’t met Robby, but I did, so I’m glad I came.”
“I would’ve understood if you hadn’t, but honestly, something huge would’ve been missing without you here.”
“Do you really feel that way?” she asked.
The idea of Tiffany staying home and angry this weekend gave me no pleasure. I’d only ever wanted her to succeed by following her own path—I’d just wished that path had been heading in the opposite direction of Manning. I nodded, smiling. “Yes. I’m sorry for everything, but I hope we can both recognize it worked out for the best.”