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“No!” The word explodes from me. Clearing my throat, I say with finality in my tone, “They won’t be at my wedding.”
The silence following my words is tense, then Aunt Aida murmurs, “Whatever you want, cara.”
“I’m happy with the fourteen guests you’ve mentioned,” I say, and when Savannah’s done taking my measurements, I give her a thankful smile.
“I’ll have the dress adjusted.” She collects her belongings. “Thank you, ladies. I’ll call to make an appointment for next week. I hope you all have a lovely day further.”
“Drive safely,” I murmur.
“Thank you for coming to us. Let me walk you out,” Mrs. Accardi offers.
I sit down again and glance at Aunt Aida. To ease more of the tension left behind by my strong reaction, I ask, “What are you going to wear to the wedding?”
“I have no idea. I have a closet full of gowns that I’ve never worn. I’m sure we can find something.”
“Oh.” My eyebrows lift. “Should we go look now?”
“Why not.” She chuckles as she holds her hand out to me.
I get up and hook her arm through mine.
Walking to the elevator, I say, “I really love it here at the mansion.”
“I’m happy to hear that, cara. This is your home now.”
I press the button, and when the doors slide open, we step inside. My eyes land on Mrs. Accardi, and I quickly stop the doors from closing.
“Why are we going up?” she asks as she joins us.
“To decide what Aunt Aida’s going to wear to the wedding,” I bring her up to speed.
“Caro Dio,” Mrs. Accardi gasps. “I haven’t even thought about what we would wear.” She lets out a sigh. “If we don’t find anything in our closets, Savannah will just have to arrange gowns for us.”
The elevator stops on the second floor, and I follow them to Aunt Aida’s suite. When I walk into the room, I curiously glance around, seeing as it’s my first time in her private space.
The décor is soft pink and creams with paintings of cherry blossoms on the walls.
“Gosh,” I whisper. “Your room is pretty.”
“I’ve always loved cherry blossoms.” A sad expression tightens her features. “Before I lost my sight, I visited Japan during springtime. I’ll never forget how beautiful all the cherry blossom trees looked.”
My heart.
Taking her hand, I give her a squeeze before I tug her toward her walk-in closet. “Let’s find you a gorgeous dress.”
“Here are the gowns,” Mrs. Accardi says.
She starts to look through them, and when I see a pink, floral-print, A-line gown, I gasp, “That one.”
Moving forward, I grab the hanger and pull it out of the closet. “Wow. This dress is stunning.” Turning to Aunt Aida, I rush closer and take hold of her hand. I brush her fingers over the fabric as I say, “It’s pale pink silk with floral-print lace.” When her fingers slide over the sleeves, I say, “They’re three-quarters.”
“Gabriella’s right,” Mrs. Accardi agrees. “You’ll look so beautiful in this dress.”
A soft smile tugs at Aunt Aida’s mouth. “Then I’ll wear it.”
On impulse I hug Aunt Aida, then feeling awkward, I quickly pull back. “Sorry. I got overexcited.”
She lets out a chuckle. “You can hug me anytime. I don’t mind.”
