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1
ZARA
The car stops, and I look out the window to see the group of women all huddled in front of the glass window. “This is it,” my mother says from beside me. “Are you ready?” I look over at her, seeing her eyes mimicking mine. The same color and shape, the rest she says is all my father, but I’m a clear mix of them both.
“I don’t think anyone is ready for that.” I point over at the women who have now turned their attention toward the black Town Car that picked us up some thirty minutes ago. I think the squealing is heard on the moon, and the door is opened by one of them.
“Zara.” My cousin and best friend Zoey sticks her head into the car. “It’s time,” she sings like she’s Mariah Carey right before her Christmas song drops after Halloween, except she sounds like cats howling in heat. Her smile fills her whole face. “Also, why is it so fucking cold in New York?”
I roll my eyes at her and get out of the car. “Don’t pretend you didn’t live here all your life just because you live in LA now.” I look at my Aunt Zara, who I’m named after, with tears in her eyes. “No tears.” I point at her, trying to be stern. “We went over this. That’s the rule.” Before I agreed to let all of them come dress shopping with me, I had two rules. Rule number one was no crying. Rule number two was that we keep our opinions to ourselves until after I say how I feel. I know I’m going to have to reel them in with rule number two since everyone is so opinionated, but I figured I would at least try.
“I know, I know.” She holds up her hands. “But I didn’t get to do this with Zoey since she eloped and took it away from me. Ripped it out of my hands.” She puts her hand to her chest as if someone inflicted her with pain.
“Wow, and we wonder where the dramatics come from in the family,” I mumble as I’m pushed aside by my mother, who gets out of the car.
“Can we please get inside?” my sister-in-law, Sofia, whines, holding her jacket closed at the chest. “It’s arctic.” She smiles at me as she shivers. She really hates the cold since she grew up in the South.
“That’s a great idea,” my Aunt Allison chimes in, walking toward the glass door and pulling it open. I watch the women form a line walking into the door. I stand here for a second on the sidewalk, staring at the glass window with two wedding dresses on headless mannequins. One is a ball gown and the other is formfitting. White flowers drape from both sides of the window, making it seem even more bridal.
An arm slips into mine, and I look over to see Zoey. “This is going to be so amazing.”
On the other side, my arm is taken by Sofia. “And just saying, we could have done this down at my place.” She tilts her head to the side, mentioning the wedding planning event space she has in the South.
“It’s enough you are planning the whole wedding and not charging me,” I remind her. “I was not going to show up with fifty people and take over your space.”
She throws her head back and laughs, the steam from her breath filling the air. “You act like this didn’t happen when I got married. Imagine my family, which equals a million, plus Matty’s family, which equals a million plus one.”
“I don’t know how you did it,” Zoey states. “I was happy with one person while I was getting married.”
“Maybe I should elope,” I say, and they both gasp in shock.
“You have six months to go, and everything is booked. You are not fucking eloping now. The save-the-date cards just went out.” She slips her arm out of mine and shoves me toward the door. “Now get in there and try on all the dresses.”
“Good Lord,” I mumble to Zoey, “she’s really bossy.”
She looks at me and laughs. “And she looks so innocent while she says it.”
“It’s because she’s from the South. It’s a Southern thing to look all sweet, but at the same time, they’ve already plotted your murder.” I nod at her. “Unlike us, who can’t hide anything on our face if we’re coming for you. You better fucking run.” She walks with me arm in arm through the door.
“Oh my,” I gasp, looking around at all the dresses on display, as the sound of a bottle popping fills the room. There are walls and walls covered with hanging white dresses, and it looks like they go back three rooms.
My heels sink into the plush carpet as I take a step forward, and a woman wearing a black one-piece dress comes to me with a smile. “I’m assuming you are the bride,” she says to me, holding out her hand. “I’m Bianca, and I’ll be your stylist for the day.”
“How did you know?” I ask, holding out my own hand to shake hers. She points at the white sash I am wearing around my jacket that my mother slipped on me right as I stepped out of my door to meet her at the car, which has Bride-To-Be written in gold across it. “That would be me, then.” I hear the sound of glasses clinking and see that some of my cousins have taken their jackets off and are now toasting champagne. “Before we start, I think I have to apologize for my family,” I warn, laughing nervously. “They can be a lot.”
“We are used to it,” she replies politely with a smile on her face, and I have to wonder how used to it she is. “Now, let me take your jacket, and then we can start.” I hand my purse to Zoey, who grabs it, and then finally slip the Bride-To-Be sash off me, giving that to Zoey before handing my jacket to Bianca. I hold Zoey’s things as she takes off her own jacket and takes a step toward everyone.
“You don’t have to look like you’re walking toward the electric chair,” my cousin Gabriella teases, slipping her arm into her twin sister’s arm, Abigail. While her sister-in-law Ryleigh just looks around at everyone, drinking her glass of champagne. “Just pretend it’s another charity event we’re getting ready for.”
“Yes, but it’s just your wedding, and at the end of it, you’ll be married for the rest of your life, and all eyes will be on you.” Zoey sticks her head into the conversation, and our mothers gawk at her. “I’m just saying it’s the most important day of her life. The pictures will be forever.”
“Okay, enough motivational speaking for you,” Sofia says, turning to me. “It’s going to be fine.” She pretends with a fake smile. “But can someone get her a chair? She looks like she’s going to fall on her face.” I pick up my hand and notice it’s shaking as the back of my neck feels like it’s burning. This should be one of the happiest days of my life. I shouldn’t be this nervous choosing a wedding dress. Or dread it, for that matter.
“I’m fine.” I pretend I’m fine, but I’m really not. If I’m honest, I don’t know when the last time I was actually fine was. “It’s going to be great.” I put my hand to my stomach to settle my nerves. It’s just nerves, my head tries to tell me. Every bride has them.
“Okay, if I can have everyone’s attention.” Bianca comes back, clapping her hands. “Thank you so much for joining us on this magical day.” She smiles at all of us as Sofia puts a glass of champagne in my hand, mumbling to me to drink it. “We’re going to start in just a bit.” She turns to everyone. “I will explain how things will go.”
“Good luck,” Zoey murmurs, bringing her glass to her lips and taking a sip. “It’s like herding cats with sheep.”
