didn’t have to see me looking like an extra from My Big Fat American Gypsy Wedding.
“How does it fit?” Theresa asked.
“It’s a little loose.”
Running around after Fin and Robbie had helped me to lose a few pounds.
“Don’t worry about that, hun. I’ll be at the church tomorrow morning to make some quick adjustments. I can’t wait to see you two princesses walk down the aisle.”
Great, yet another witness to my impending humiliation. Would we even fit down the aisle?
“And you can make the top tighter?”
“Sure I can. Don’t look so worried, hun—you’ll remember the day for the rest of your life.”
That’s what I was afraid of.
After the dresses, we picked up the cake. Missy had gone for a four-tier sponge, pink and covered in glitter. The bride and groom figures on the top tier must have been custom made, because the bride wore a tiny replica of the butterfly dress, complete with a train that flowed all the way down the top three layers, and the groom bore a remarkable resemblance to the Michelin Man.
Next, we stopped off at the church hall to check on the reception preparations, and the place looked more like a carnival. Basically, if it was pink or sparkly, Missy had bought it. All of it, probably within a four-state radius. It was just...well, really I had no words. Even Bradley would have been speechless.
When Nick and I finally got into the Mercedes at the end of the day, he calmly put the car in gear, drove around the corner, and then pulled over. We looked at each other. Then the laughter came. I’d never laughed so much in my whole freaking life. Tears streamed down my face as Nick doubled over the steering wheel.
“Tell me, did this day really happen? Do women actually like that stuff?”
“Most women, no. Missy, yes.”
“Fucking hell, it’s a good thing Bradley isn’t here. We’d be giving him CPR. Those dresses…”
“It’s okay for you to laugh. You don’t have to wear one of them tomorrow. Everyone’s gonna be staring at me.”
“Hey, don’t worry. If it helps, I’ll just imagine you without it.”
“I’m not sure you visualising my wobbly bits would be an improvement.”
“Shit, that came out totally wrong.” He put his head in his hands. “And you’ve got curves, not wobbly bits.” He turned back to me, and his dimples popped out again. “Did you see the figurines on that abomination of a cake? Does the groom really look like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man?”
I nodded and dissolved into laughter again. Maybe our trip out hadn’t been so awkward after all.
CHAPTER 33
THE MORNING OF the wedding dawned bright and clear. Which was good, because Missy was determined to release two doves outside after the ceremony, and rain would spoil the effect.
The plan called for us to get ready at Missy’s house, and right now, I was standing very, very still as Theresa made some last-minute adjustments to my dress involving a needle, which she waved around alarmingly as she talked to Missy. I held my breath as the sharp tip narrowly missed my arm.
“Uh, Theresa? Does it need to be this tight?”
“You want it to stay up, don’t you, hun? Best not to take any chances.”
Of course I wanted it to freaking stay up. The only thing worse than wearing this dress would be not wearing it, so I sucked in my stomach and lived with the discomfort.
Once we were dressed, the next challenge was getting into the wedding car. Missy had pushed the boat out and rented a stretch Hummer—in pink—but no matter how big the car was, the door still wasn’t very wide and the dresses were. To add to the problem, Missy’s bodice was decidedly lower cut than I remembered it being, which didn’t lend itself to careless tugging.
“Did Theresa make adjustments to the top of that dress as well?” I asked.
Missy grinned and pointed at her boobs. “God wouldn’t have given me these if he intended for me to keep them covered up the whole time.”
I wasn’t sure that falling out of her wedding dress in church was exactly what he’d had in mind, but as Missy always told me, God moved in mysterious ways.
In the end, Missy’s mom climbed into the Hummer and pulled, and I shoved from behind, just like Rabbit did that time Winnie the Pooh got stuck in his house.
“Push harder, Lara,” Missy begged as she tried to wriggle through the door.
“I’m pushing as hard as I can.”
All at once, the dress gave