yesterday for a wild weekend in OC, and tore the place up looking for a pair of sandals. Which I found after she’d gone. I’m not cleaning it up. That’s her deal.”
She talked nonstop, but in a funny, bouncy way, while she grabbed a shoulder bag and a black O’s fielder’s cap.
Ah, baseball, Bo thought. There was hope.
She scooted out, shut the door behind her, then offered Bo a quick, easy smile. “Got a camera in here.” She patted the bulging shoulder bag. “I’m a pain in the ass with it. Fair warning.”
“Mandy’s an awesome photographer,” Cammie put in. “She’s interning at the Baltimore Sun. ”
“Horrible hours, no pay. I love it. Hey, look at you.”
Before Bo could comment, she’d turned completely around to study a guy coming down the stairs. He was wearing a suit and tie, and looked a little flustered.
“Dude,” she said with a chuckle. “Looking hot.”
“Going to a wedding.” He lifted a hand to the knot of his striped tie, tugged. “Is this thing on right?”
“Cammie, Brad, Bo, this is Josh. Upstairs neighbor, fellow student and amateur tie knotter. Let me fix it. Who’s getting married?”
“Girlfriend’s sister. I’ll be meeting her whole family. I feel a little sick.”
“Oooh, the gauntlet.” She straightened his tie, gave his lapel a little pat. “There, you’re perfect. And don’t worry, hon, people are either crying or getting drunk at weddings.”
“They’re mostly Italian.”
“Then they’ll be doing both. Italian weddings are big buckets of fun. Just lift your glass and say—what is it?— salute !”
“ Salute. Got it. Nice to meet you guys. See you later.”
“He’s a sweetie,” Mandy said when he went out. “Been hung up on this girl in his lit class most of the term. Looks like it’s finally working out. So.” She adjusted her cap. “Let’s go see some big-ass fish.”
B ella had ordered perfect, and in Reena’s opinion, she’d gotten her wish. The weather was spectacular, the balmy blue and gold of early summer, with the flowers both bright and delicate, and the humidity mercifully low.
She looked like a princess, everyone said so, in her frothy white gown, her hair gleaming gold under her sparkling veil. She carried a spectacular creation of pink roses accented with miniature white lilies.
The church was bedecked with her choice of flowers in white baskets. She’d rejected the more traditional organ in favor of a harp, flutes, cello and violin. Reena had to admit the sound was lovely.
And classy.
No more lace curtains and Kleenex bouquets, Reena thought as her eyes stung and her throat went hot. Isabella Hale swept down the aisle of St. Leo’s on their father’s arm looking like royalty. Her train a sparkling white river behind her, her face glowing, diamonds firing at her ears.
She’d gotten her wish all around, Reena thought, as Vince—elegant and handsome in his formal morning coat—looked dazzled by her.
His eyes, deep and dark, lit on her face and never moved from it. Her father’s were damp as he carefully lifted Bella’s veil, gently kissed her cheek and answered the priest’s question about who gives this woman to this man with a tenderly spoken, “Her mother and I do.”
For once Bella didn’t weep, but stayed dry-eyed and luminous through the Mass and ceremony. Her eyes like stars and her voice clear as a bell.
Because she knows this is exactly what she wants, Reena thought. What she’s always wanted. Just as she knows this is her spotlight, and all eyes are on her.
It no longer mattered that the bridesmaid dress was a little less than flattering. Here was another kind of fire, she realized. It was strong and bright and hot. It was her sister’s joy flaming through the air.
So Reena wept when the vows were exchanged, and the rings given, knowing that this was the end of a part of their lives. And the beginning of the next part of Bella’s.
T he reception was held at Vince’s parents’
She talked nonstop, but in a funny, bouncy way, while she grabbed a shoulder bag and a black O’s fielder’s cap.
Ah, baseball, Bo thought. There was hope.
She scooted out, shut the door behind her, then offered Bo a quick, easy smile. “Got a camera in here.” She patted the bulging shoulder bag. “I’m a pain in the ass with it. Fair warning.”
“Mandy’s an awesome photographer,” Cammie put in. “She’s interning at the Baltimore Sun. ”
“Horrible hours, no pay. I love it. Hey, look at you.”
Before Bo could comment, she’d turned completely around to study a guy coming down the stairs. He was wearing a suit and tie, and looked a little flustered.
“Dude,” she said with a chuckle. “Looking hot.”
“Going to a wedding.” He lifted a hand to the knot of his striped tie, tugged. “Is this thing on right?”
“Cammie, Brad, Bo, this is Josh. Upstairs neighbor, fellow student and amateur tie knotter. Let me fix it. Who’s getting married?”
“Girlfriend’s sister. I’ll be meeting her whole family. I feel a little sick.”
“Oooh, the gauntlet.” She straightened his tie, gave his lapel a little pat. “There, you’re perfect. And don’t worry, hon, people are either crying or getting drunk at weddings.”
“They’re mostly Italian.”
“Then they’ll be doing both. Italian weddings are big buckets of fun. Just lift your glass and say—what is it?— salute !”
“ Salute. Got it. Nice to meet you guys. See you later.”
“He’s a sweetie,” Mandy said when he went out. “Been hung up on this girl in his lit class most of the term. Looks like it’s finally working out. So.” She adjusted her cap. “Let’s go see some big-ass fish.”
B ella had ordered perfect, and in Reena’s opinion, she’d gotten her wish. The weather was spectacular, the balmy blue and gold of early summer, with the flowers both bright and delicate, and the humidity mercifully low.
She looked like a princess, everyone said so, in her frothy white gown, her hair gleaming gold under her sparkling veil. She carried a spectacular creation of pink roses accented with miniature white lilies.
The church was bedecked with her choice of flowers in white baskets. She’d rejected the more traditional organ in favor of a harp, flutes, cello and violin. Reena had to admit the sound was lovely.
And classy.
No more lace curtains and Kleenex bouquets, Reena thought as her eyes stung and her throat went hot. Isabella Hale swept down the aisle of St. Leo’s on their father’s arm looking like royalty. Her train a sparkling white river behind her, her face glowing, diamonds firing at her ears.
She’d gotten her wish all around, Reena thought, as Vince—elegant and handsome in his formal morning coat—looked dazzled by her.
His eyes, deep and dark, lit on her face and never moved from it. Her father’s were damp as he carefully lifted Bella’s veil, gently kissed her cheek and answered the priest’s question about who gives this woman to this man with a tenderly spoken, “Her mother and I do.”
For once Bella didn’t weep, but stayed dry-eyed and luminous through the Mass and ceremony. Her eyes like stars and her voice clear as a bell.
Because she knows this is exactly what she wants, Reena thought. What she’s always wanted. Just as she knows this is her spotlight, and all eyes are on her.
It no longer mattered that the bridesmaid dress was a little less than flattering. Here was another kind of fire, she realized. It was strong and bright and hot. It was her sister’s joy flaming through the air.
So Reena wept when the vows were exchanged, and the rings given, knowing that this was the end of a part of their lives. And the beginning of the next part of Bella’s.
T he reception was held at Vince’s parents’
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