"Most of it," I barely manage to squeak.
I don't like the accusation in her voice, like I've done something wrong. If Tia only saw my mom take charge, the unstoppable wedding express, maybe she'd be more understanding. I heave a sigh as I lean against the kitchen counter. My special day has turned into a runaway train, and all the details are racing further and further away from me. Soon, I'll be reduced to a spectator at my own wedding, just doing what others tell me. Thankfully, I managed to wrest control over the dress—my dress. A smile tugs at my lips when I think of it. I might be forced to eat seafood pastries, but at least I'll look amazing while I'm retching up my meal.
"What about your dress?" Tia asks.
My mouth falls open at the expectant look in her eyes. No, she will not have any say in my dress. Nobody will. It's the one thing I've got left.
I swallow hard before averting my gaze. "We found a gown today."
"You got a dress? You didn't tell me."
I spin around to see Andrés standing in the doorway. He's holding an empty chip bowl, looking at me with a slack jaw.
I heave a frustrated groan. I'm tired. My neck hurts. What's the big deal about the dress? "You've been at work all day."
"You could have sent me a message." He flashes a crooked smile, one I guess could be considered playful, but I'm not in the mood to play right now.
"You never answer my texts," I say in an accusatory tone that sounds too severe even to my own ears.
I cringe when he takes a step back, looking at me as if I've wounded him with a verbal knife.
I know my fuse is short, and I fear it may get even shorter unless Andrés takes me home. It's been a long day and I want to go to sleep, so I can be rested for our drive to San Antonio tomorrow.
He shrugs. "I guess it doesn't matter. I'll see it when we get home."
Inez gasps and crosses her heart before muttering something in Spanish. "No, you can't see it. It's bad luck, Andrés."
"I'd like to see it." Tia steps forward, squaring her shoulders.
When I look at the hurt in her eyes I feel like a balloon has popped in my chest. I hate that Tia is upset, but I don't understand why she would be.
"It's at the apartment. You can come by and look at it anytime." I reach behind my head and rub my sore neck and shoulders. Why did I think planning this wedding would be fun? So far, it's turning out to be a big pain in the neck—literally.
"I'll come with you, Tia."
I stifle a gasp as Marie steps from behind Andrés. She leans against the wall in a casual pose, one leg crossed over the other. She's got this smug look on her face, and I swear the glare she gives me is hot enough to melt lead. Oh, this is so not good. I don't want Marie to come to my apartment. In fact, I don't want her anywhere near my dress.
The image of that bride pointing her cigarette at me flashes through my mind. And now I know exactly what she was trying to tell me: this runaway train is heading for disaster.
Chapter Ten
Christina
"What's wrong, mija?" Andrés grips the steering wheel as we drive down Highway 35. He keeps his gaze focused on the road, but I can tell by the way he works a tic in his jaw he's got a lot on his mind.
"I'm tired, Andrés," I say on a sigh. "I just need some sleep."
I know work has been stressful for him lately. The last thing I should do is unload on him, even though I feel like I may break under the pressure of this wedding planning. I lean against the headrest and massage the tension building in my neck. No matter how much I rub, it seems to get worse.
"You didn't look happy tonight. Did my family upset you?"
When Andrés takes one hand from the wheel and laces his fingers through mine, my thin thread of composure starts to unravel.
My throat tightens with emotion when I look over at him and see his eyes darken with concern. I don't want to burden him with my troubles, but he probably should know what's going on, anyway. I turn away and look out at the highway.
"Your aunts are hurt they don't get to help and your cousin does not like me." I hate the whine that slips into my voice. Damn. Why'd I tell him?
Andrés releases my hand and grips the wheel with white knuckles. "Yeah, Marie. I was hoping you didn't catch that."
"Uh, yeah." I definitely caught it. I was drowning in her venom the whole night.
"Don't worry about Marie." Andrés looks at me and winks. "She grew up with a bunch of boys. I think she likes being the only girl, and she's jealous you're getting so much attention.
"Great. So how do I get her to back off?"
"Just ignore her. She'll come around."
But I don't like the edge of doubt in his voice. I also don't like the uneasy tension that clings to him like a second skin. I can see the way his shoulders stiffen and the veins protrude in his neck. Andrés looks like he's got a lot on his mind, too, so I decide to drop the topic of Marie. Talking about her makes my stomach sour, anyway.