Too Good to Be True - Kristan Higgins [99]
“Come on, let’s see!” Natalie called impatiently.
“Ta-da!” I said gamely, coming out to join my sisters.
“Oh! Gorgeous! That is really your color!” Nat cried, clapping her hands. She’d put on another wedding dress, a shimmering white silk creation with a demure neckline, a snug bodice that glistened with beads and huge, puffy skirt. Margaret, fast and efficient at everything she did, was already waiting, looking sulky and gorgeous in her pale pink.
“Come on, Grace,” Mom said. “Stand with your sisters and let’s see how you look.”
I obeyed. Stood on the little dais next to cool, blond, elegant Natalie Rose. On Nat’s other side was Margaret, her reddish gold hair sleekly cut into a stylish bob, sharply attractive, thin as a greyhound, cheekbones to die for. My sisters were, simply put, beautiful. Stunning, even.
And then there was me. I noticed that my dark hair hadn’t taken kindly to the weather today and was doing its wild-animal thing again. A few dark circles lurked under my eyes. (Who could sleep after Mom and Dad’s foreplay?) In the past few months, I’d managed to gain weight in my upper arms, courtesy of all that quality time with Ben & Jerry’s. Based on the one picture we had of her, I looked like my great-grandmother on my mother’s side, who’d immigrated from Kiev.
“I look like Great-Grandma Zladova,” I commented.
Mom’s head jerked back. “I always wondered where you got that hair,” she murmured in wonder.
“You do not,” Natalie said staunchly.
“Wasn’t she a washerwoman?” Margaret asked.
I rolled my eyes. “Great. Nat is Cinderella, Margaret is Nicole Kidman, and I’m Grandma Zladova, laundress to the czars.”
Ten minutes later, Birdie was completing the sale, Mom was fussing over headpieces, Margaret was checking her BlackBerry, and I needed a little air. “I’ll meet you outside, Nat,” I said.
“Grace?” Natalie put her hand on my arm. “I’m sorry about Wyatt.”
“Oh,” I said. “Well, thanks.”
“You’ll find someone,” she murmured. “The right one will come along. It’ll be your turn soon.”
The words felt like a slap. No, more than the words was…damn it, my eyes were stinging…the pity. In all the time since Andrew and I broke up, Natalie had felt sympathy, and guilt, and a whole lot of other feelings, no doubt, but she’d never pitied me. No. My younger sister had always, always looked up to me, even when my chips were down. Never before had she given me the kind of look I was getting now. I was Poor Grace once more.
“Maybe I’ll never meet someone,” I said tartly. “But hey. You and Andrew could use me as a nanny, right?”
She blanched. “Grace…I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Sure,” I said quickly. “I know. But you know, Nat, me being single isn’t the worst thing in the world. It’s not like I lost a limb.”
“Oh, no! Of course not. I know.” She smiled uncertainly.
I took a deep breath. “I…I’ll be outside,” I said.
“Okay,” she chirped. “Meet you at the car,” she said, then went back to our mother and her wedding dress.
WHEN I GOT HOME FROM DRESS shopping, I was limp from the effort of all that damn fun. Dinner and drinks had followed the dress shopping, full of good cheer and talk of the wedding. We were joined by a few other female relatives—Mom’s sisters and, alas, Cousin Kitty, Queen of the Newlyweds, who gushed and beamed about how wonderful it was to be married. For the third time, that was…numbers one and two hadn’t been so great, but that was in the past, of course, and now Kitty was an expert on Happily Ever After.
In just a few weeks, Andrew and Natalie would be husband and wife. I couldn’t wait. Seriously, I just wanted to be done with it. Then, finally, it’d seem like a new chapter of my life could start.
Angus clawed at the kitchen door to be let out. It was raining now, thunder rumbling distantly in the east. Angus wasn’t one of those dogs who feared storms—he had the heart of a lion, my little guy—but he didn’t like being rained on. “Come back soon,” I said.
The minute I opened the door, I saw the dark shape against