A Wedding in December - Sarah Morgan Page 0,78

Katie confided in her? Not only about the attack, but her doubts about her career choice?

She noticed Rosie looking at her shoulder again and took off across the pool, swimming laps until the sun dipped in the sky and someone came to tell her the salon was ready for her.

She showered and changed quickly, then sat placidly allowing the hairdresser free rein.

“Can I add a few highlights around the front?”

“Anything,” Katie said. “Whatever you think would look best.”

“I’ll be doing your hair the morning of the wedding,” Becca said, “so it’s good to have a chance to work with your hair before then. Is there anything you love? Anything you hate?”

“She’s conservative.” Rosie unscrewed the cap from her water bottle. “Don’t do anything radical.”

“Maybe radical would be good.” Katie stared at herself in the mirror. Did she really look that pale? She needed to wear more makeup. Or find a way of getting more sleep.

Rosie took a sip of water. “Do you have anything to wear dancing?”

“No. I’m going to raid your wardrobe and pretend I’m a teenager again.”

Three hours later all evidence of the use of kitchen scissors had been erased and Katie’s hair fell in soft layers around her face.

“You look amazing.” Rosie stroked Katie’s hair back. “All you need to do now is stop frowning.”

“Am I frowning?”

“Always. You’re always serious.” Rosie hugged her. “This is my wedding. You’re not allowed to frown at my wedding.”

“Where are we going tonight? I don’t want to bump into our parents and invade their second honeymoon.”

“That isn’t going to happen. We’re going to a place that has the best DJ around. It’s very cool. And I have the perfect dress for you. I bought it to wear to a party in the summer.”

“A frostbite dress. Yay. Do I need to point out that there are several feet of snow on the ground?”

“I’ve messaged Dan. He is going to drive us there, and pick us up after so we won’t be outdoors for long. And you can wear your coat.”

Back in the tree house, Rosie delved into the suitcase she’d quickly packed at the lodge. “Here.” She pulled out a dress. “Try it. I fell in love with it the moment I saw it.”

“Like you did with Dan?”

Her sister laughed. “I guess so. Only he’s a whole lot warmer than that dress.”

Katie pulled the dress over her head. “I am too old to wear this.”

“No, you think you’re too old and you act too old, but tonight you’re going to leave your overdeveloped sense of responsibility behind and throw your young and sexy self onto that dance floor.”

“They probably won’t let me in.”

“It’s exclusive, that’s true, but everyone knows the Reynolds family around here.”

“We’re not members of the Reynolds family.”

“We soon will be.” Rosie wriggled into a scarlet jumpsuit. “Rosie Reynolds sounds cool, don’t you think?”

“You’re marrying him for his name? Only kidding!” Katie intercepted Rosie’s warning look. “You look incredible. Like something that fell off the Christmas tree.”

“I’m pretending that’s a compliment.”

“It is a compliment. You’re very stylish. I’ve always said so.”

“Wait until the wedding. It’s going to be perfect.”

“Catherine seems to have done most of it, and she’s not even your mother.” And she’d wondered about that. Was their own mother upset that she wasn’t more involved in the detail of her daughter’s wedding? Was she watching the plans drift past her, just beyond her reach and feeling sad that she was an observer and not a participant? While Catherine chose silk, and flowers, and pondered over menus, did their own mother feel grateful or replaced? She was such a hands-on, involved and caring parent, she had to be upset, surely? Thinking about it, Katie had a renewed respect for her mother, who never put pressure on either of her girls. Not once had she been anything but supportive of Rosie. “Talking of our mother, I need to forward that photo. She’ll love it.”

And tomorrow morning first thing Katie was going to check on her. Give her a chance to talk about how she felt about the wedding.

“Catherine is amazing. What woman wouldn’t want to have the whole thing arranged for her by a professional?” It didn’t seem to have occurred to Rosie that their mother might have feelings on the topic.

“You. You used to daydream about weddings.” Katie dug in her bag for her mascara. “Normally you’d be saying, I really want eucalyptus—oh wait, I’ve changed my mind—maybe ivy—but when it comes to this wedding, you don’t seem to

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