Between Sisters - Kristin Hannah [93]
Claire moved toward them, frowning. That was when she noticed the pink bow on the hood. “What in the world?”
Dad handed her a note. It read:
Dear Claire and Bobby,
Best of luck on your big day. I'm
still hoping to make it up there.
Hugs and kisses,
Mama
Claire stood there a long time, staring down at the car. She knew what it meant: Mama wasn't going to make it to the wedding. Probably, she chose the hard-to-get hair appointment instead.
Meg came up beside her, laid a hand on her shoulder. “Let me guess: Mama's wedding gift.”
Claire sighed. “Leave it to Mama to give me a car with two seats. Am I supposed to have Ali run along behind?”
Then she laughed. What else could she do?
Claire stood in the dressing room at the small Episcopal church on Front Street. The last hour had been nonstop action. She and Meghann hadn't found five minutes to talk.
The Bluesers had been in and out of the dressing room every few minutes, oohing and aahing over her dress, and Meghann had been busily checking details, clipboard in hand. Ali had asked at least a dozen times which step she was supposed to stand on.
But now, the room was mercifully quiet. Claire stood in front of the full-length mirror, unable to quite grasp that the woman in the glass was her. The gown fit perfectly, flowing to the floor in a cascade of white silk, and the veil made her look every bit the princess.
Her wedding day.
She couldn't quite believe it. Every night since meeting Bobby, she'd gone to sleep wondering if he'd be there in the morning. When the sun came up, she was quietly amazed to find him still there.
Another lovely legacy from childhood, she supposed.
But soon, she would be Mrs. Robert Jackson Austin.
There was a knock at the door.
It was Meghann. “The church is packed. Are you ready?”
Claire swallowed hard. “I am.”
Meghann took her sister's arm and led her out to the small area behind the closed church doors. Dad was already there, waiting with Ali.
“Oh, Ali Kat, you look like a princess,” Claire said, kneeling down to kiss her daughter.
Alison giggled, twirled. “I love my dress, Mommy.”
Behind the doors, the music started. It was time.
Meghann bent down to Alison. “Are you ready, sweetie? You walk slow—like we practiced, okay?”
Ali hopped up and down. “I'm ready.”
Meghann eased the door open a crack. Ali slipped through and disappeared.
Dad turned to Claire. His eyes filled slowly with tears. “I guess you're not my little girl anymore.”
“Get ready,” Meghann said; a second later, the organ started “Here Comes the Bride,” and she opened the doors.
Claire slipped her arm through her dad's and they walked slowly down the aisle. At the end of it, Bobby, dressed in a black tuxedo, waited. His brother, Tommy Clinton, stood beside him. Both men were smiling broadly.
Dad stopped, turned to Claire. He lifted the veil and kissed her cheek, then eased away from her, and suddenly Bobby was there beside her, taking her arm, leading her up to the altar.
She looked up at him, loving him so much it scared her. It wasn't safe to love someone this much. . . .
Don't be scared, he mouthed, squeezing her hands.
She focused on the feel of his hand in hers, the comfortable stability of him beside her.
Father Tim droned on and on, but Claire couldn't really hear anything except the beating of her own heart. When it came time for her to say her lines, she panicked that she wouldn't be able to hear or remember them.
But she did. When she said, “I do,” it felt as if her heart were actually expanding inside her chest. In that moment, standing in front of her friends and family and staring into Bobby's blue eyes, she started to cry.
Father Tim smiled down at each of them, then said, “I now pronounce you husband and—”
The doors to the church banged open.
A woman stood in the doorway, arms out-flung, a cigarette in one hand. She wore a silver lamé dress that showcased her curves. Behind her, there were at least