Too Good to Be True - Kristan Higgins [78]
“Sounds pretty,” I said.
“Grace,” she began hesitantly, “I was wondering if you’d be my maid of honor. I know the circumstances are pretty weird, but I had to ask you. And if you don’t want to, of course I understand. But ever since I was little, I always imagined it would be you. Margaret as a bridesmaid, of course, but you as my number one, you know?”
It was impossible to say no. “Sure,” I murmured. “I’d be honored.” My heart was beating in slow, rolling thumps, making me feel a little ill.
“Thank you,” Nat whispered, hugging me. For a minute, it was like we were little again, her face warm and smooth against my neck, me petting her silky blond hair, breathing in the sweet smell of her shampoo.
“I can’t believe you’re getting married,” I whispered, a couple tears slipping out of my eyes. “I still want to give you piggyback rides and braid your hair.”
“I love you, Grace,” she murmured.
“I love you, too, Nattie Bumppo,” I said around the rock in my throat. My little sister, whom I had helped bathe and diaper, whom I’d read to and cuddled, was leaving me in one of the most profound ways a sister could. For twenty-five years, I had been Natalie’s favorite person, and she’d been mine, and now that was changing. When I was with Andrew, let’s face it, he hadn’t deposed Natalie from the throne in my heart. Sure, I loved him… but Natalie was part of me. Part of my soul and heart, the way only sisters could be.
Dozens of memories flashed through my head. Me at age ten, when I’d had my tonsillectomy, waking up from a restless, narcotic-induced sleep to find that Natalie had drawn eighteen pictures of horses for me, laying them on my bedroom floor, propping them on my chair and desk so everywhere I looked, I’d see horses. The time I beat up Kevin Nichols when he put gum in her hair. Me leaving for William & Mary, and Natalie’s face contorting with the effort of smiling so I wouldn’t see that she was, in fact, sobbing.
I loved her, and had always loved her, so much that it hurt. I could not—would not—let Andrew come between us.
She squeezed me hard, then sat up. “I can’t believe I still haven’t met Wyatt,” she said.
“I know,” I seconded. “He’s dying to meet you, too.” Wyatt was, alas, at a medical convention in San Francisco. I’d briefly flirted with the idea of telling my family Wyatt and I had broken up, then I decided I needed him a little longer. This morning, I’d Googled medical conventions and surgeons and found one in the City by the Bay. Extremely convenient.
“Things are good with you two?” Nat asked.
“Oh, I guess. He works too much. If there’s one fly in the ointment, it’s that.” My evil plan was to plant these seeds so I could ease everyone into the idea of a breakup. “He’s always at the hospital, and now he’s up in Boston… He’s so devoted to his work. I guess it’s the classic complaint of the doctor’s wife.”
Oops. Hadn’t actually meant to say that last sentence. Natalie’s face glowed even more beautifully, if possible.
“Do you think you guys might get married?”
Oh, crap. “Um, well…I don’t know. The work thing is something we have to figure out. And of course, I’ve been burned before.”
And again. Didn’t mean to say that last bit. Natalie flinched.
“I mean, I’ve picked the wrong guy before, so I want to be careful and all. Make sure he’s the right one.”
“But you think he is?”
I tipped my head, pretending to consider the question. After all, Wyatt and I were going to have to break up. Rather soon, in fact, since obviously I couldn’t keep this up forever. “He’s…” I smiled at Natalie in what I imagined was modest adoration. “He’s pretty wonderful, Nat. I just wish we had more time together.”
The back door banged open, and Margaret appeared before us. “Grace, your dog just broke a vulva. And Mom wants you to come in and eat, anyway.” She fisted her hands on her hips. “And did it ever occur to you two