Rock Wedding(29)

It wasn’t the last hug of the afternoon. One by one, Kit and Sarah wrapped their arms around the woman who’d brought them all together.

“Okay,” Molly said afterward, the lace of her dress exquisite against her skin and her face aglow. “It’s time for you to put on your dresses.”





CHAPTER 11



SARAH, THEA, CHARLIE, and Kit dressed in a chaos of laughter and conversation.

Sarah’s turquoise-colored dress fit as perfectly as she remembered. Kit, meanwhile, had chosen a dress of deep amber, while Thea was in rich violet. All three of their dresses came to just above the knee. Charlotte, however, was in a flowing, ankle-length dress of bright raspberry, as befit her position as Molly’s maid of honor. The rest of them would walk out ahead of her as part of Molly’s bridal party—it was Molly who’d asked them to choose jewel tones for their dresses.

“We look like a group of flowers¸” Sarah said when she glimpsed the entire group in the large standing mirrors placed against one wall.

Molly clasped her hands together, her smile huge. “It’s exactly how I imagined.”

Thea’s camera clicked, capturing another image for Molly’s wedding album.

“I don’t want a stranger capturing these moments,” Molly had said the previous night when it came out that Thea would be taking the majority of the photographs, backed up by one of David’s brothers who was an excellent amateur photographer. “I want it to be about friends and family and joy.”

Thea had brought along a tripod, making it easy to set up the camera and use the timer to take group shots. Once everyone was dressed and they had arranged things for the next part of their outfits, she set it up to take a series of shots, then joined the rest of them.

The five of them stood side by side in front of the mirrors, Molly in the middle.

“Everyone ready?” Molly asked.

Nodding, they reached as one down to the hatboxes placed beside them, picked up their fascinators, and rose to their full height. Each headpiece was different, and each one suited the woman who’d chosen it. Sarah had never worn anything like this in her life, but she loved the pretty, frothy thing.

“That’s so lovely,” she said to Charlotte after spying her jaunty little choice with its curling feather of peacock blue. “Here, let me put in the bobby pin you need at the back.”

“Thanks.” Charlotte stood still as Sarah got the bobby pin in place without messing up Charlotte’s updo. “I love yours. That black netting over your eye—you look like a femme fatale.”

“She’s right,” Kit said, angling her fascinator a little more to the right. Her piece had a dramatic, curved shape that curled over the side of her head, the color a vivid blood orange that somehow went perfectly with the amber of her dress.

As striking was Thea’s of deep pink, but the most beautiful was the bride’s, as was only right. It was as if three-quarters of the front of Molly’s hair was covered by tiny blooms. Anchoring the piece in her hair were feathers of purest cream, while the cream netting that came over her eyes was of a finer weave than Sarah’s and went to her lips, a veil Fox would lift up during the ceremony.

“Something old,” Molly whispered, touching her fingers to her dress. “Something to build a history on.”

Thea placed her hand on one of the boxes that had held the lingerie. “Something new, to take into your new life.”

“Something borrowed.” Charlotte fixed a necklace around Molly’s neck; it came to the top of her breastbone in twin strands of white gold, then became a knotted waterfall that ended just above the V-neck of her dress. “Mom would’ve been so happy you were wearing her wedding necklace on your own wedding day. And I’ll love wearing it on mine, knowing you both wore it before me.”

Wetness shone in both women’s eyes.

“Something blue,” Kit said, passing over a bouquet of riotous color that included several glorious shades of blue.

“And,” Sarah added, “a silver sixpence in your shoe.”

“What?” That question came from four female voices at once.

Sarah laughed. “It’s the complete rhyme. I looked it up once.” When she’d been about to be a bride herself. But today wasn’t about her. It was about the generous woman who’d reached out to her in friendship. “I couldn’t find a sixpence,” she said, “but since it’s meant to represent good luck and prosperity, I got you this little horseshoe charm I thought you could tuck in somewhere.”

“Oh, I love it.” Molly took the tiny charm and, with a sinful smile, tucked it inside the top of her corset, to all their approving laughter.