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“Still planning on tomorrow?”
“Yep. I’ve been working long hours so I can make the time.” Would Ava appreciate her efforts? Since Gail called to say she wouldn’t come, Emilie felt guilty about bailing. “Meet you there at one, right?”
“Yep. Sounds good.”
“Did you talk to Mom yet?” Ava asked in a tight voice.
Emilie winced as she turned her jeep onto Ava’s street. She gave Gail’s house a lingering glance, wishing it was her giving Ava the excuses. “Yeah, I did. She already knew about you two.”
“I’m sure she did. She doesn’t plan on coming tomorrow, does she?”
“I’m sorry. I did try.”
Her voice was calmer than Emilie expected. “Oh, it’s not your fault. She’s the one set in her ways, refusing to see how much I’ve grown over the years.”
Emilie pulled into her driveway and cut the engine. It wasn’t her place to correct Ava. “Don’t worry about what other people think. Just focus on your wedding.”
“That’s right. I’m getting married.” Her voice cheered some, but not enough to convince Emilie.
* * *
On Thursday afternoon, Emilie pulled up to Belle Bridal and looked through the shop windows. The front display was full of mannequin brides in beautiful wedding dresses and veils. A thrill of longing coursed through her. It was every girl’s dream to try a dress on for her big day, but supporting Ava was a different matter. She wasn’t sure she could fake her enthusiasm. Hopefully, Ava would keep the attention on herself, and Emilie wouldn’t have time to try on a dress.
When she went inside the small, tidy shop, Ava was pacing in front of the door. “You’re here.” Her voice was more panicked than Emilie expected.
Emilie checked the clock on her phone. “Yeah, I’m five minutes early. Were you worried I wouldn’t show?”
Ava straightened up and stopped moving. “No, no, of course not. I’m just nervous. I’ve got to get the dress just right.” She turned to the shopkeeper. “Carly, I’m ready for my fitting now.”
Carly was a little thing, probably fresh out of high school and scared to death. She snapped to attention. “Yes, Ms. Smith. Right this way.”
Emilie suppressed a giggle. The poor girl. At one point in her life, Emilie had been scared of Ava, too, but not now. In the last few days, taking control of her past had given her an extra boost of confidence.
They followed Carly down a hallway and into a big sitting room with a platform facing three ceiling-to-floor mirrors. Two navy-blue plush couches were placed in front, and Emilie dutifully sat on one of them.
“You’re not going to help me?” Ava asked.
Emilie jumped to her feet. Wasn’t that Carly’s job? “Oh, sorry. I didn’t think you’d need my help. I haven’t done this before.”
“Get used to it. I’m bridezilla, and you’re my maid of honor.”
She had to be joking. Emilie swallowed the tightness inside her throat. She didn’t want to help with the wedding, much less be the maid of honor. “What about your other friends? Don’t you—”
“All my other friends moved away. I know we just started talking again, but I don’t have anyone else but you.”
Emilie wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or deflated.
“And I wouldn’t want them here anyway.” She took Emilie’s hand. “I need someone supportive, not crazy.”
Emilie cringed at the word. Ava didn’t have a clue what crazy meant. Gathering all the enthusiasm she could muster, Emilie pointed toward the dressing room. “Let’s get you fitted.”
Carly motioned for them to follow her down another hallway into a spacious dressing room. A beautiful dress hung on a hanger in the corner. It had lace cap sleeves, a beaded bodice that fit tightly around the waist, and poofed out in a taffeta-full train. Fashionable and chic.
“It’s beautiful,” Emilie breathed, touching it gingerly. “It’ll be perfect on you.”
Ava beamed at the dress. “Worth all of the salads I’ll have to eat for the next month?”
Ah, it made sense. Still, it was crazy to diet for so long for a dress. That was what girdles were for, right?
