Chapter 12: June Twentieth

Aidan held out his hand for the phone.

I shook my head.

"Twenty-one thousand dollars is three months' rent and Shauna's wages," I told Madeline. "I'll be there at nine."

"I knew you would," she said, and hung up.

Aidan looked at the dark screen.

"I'm fitting his coat at Trinity at nine," he said. "Last pressing, in the room off the vestry."

"So we'll both be there."

"I'll drive."

"Of course you will."

On Saturday, June twentieth, the van was outside the shop at eight.

Aidan had cleared the rail.

Evan's suit hung at one end in its black bag.

My dress hung at the other in its white one.

Shauna rode in the back between them with her arms around my garment bag.

"If she says one word to you," Shauna said, "one word, I'm going to sit on her veil."

"She isn't wearing a veil."

"Then I'll find one."

Trinity Church stood in Copley Square with the sun on its red stone and the Hancock tower throwing its reflection back at it.

There were already florists on the steps with white peonies.

A side door led to a stone corridor and a row of small rooms behind the altar.

Aidan carried the suit into the first room.

I carried the dress into the second.

Madeline was sitting at a mirror in a silk robe while a woman did her hair.

Her mother stood behind her.

I hadn't seen her since December.

She wore pale gold, and her hand was on her daughter's shoulder.

The same hand.

She looked at me in the mirror and went stiff.

"Good morning," I said. "Coat check's downstairs."

Shauna made a noise.

A photographer from the parish was in the corner with a camera, taking pictures of the bouquet.

"Oh, get this," Madeline told him. "The seamstress dressing me. It's tradition."

Keep reading free with an account. Start The Same Wedding Dress, Two Different Brides from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.