Chapter 2 - The AisleOn the morning of the wedding, Ivy could barely stand still. She wore her pink dress, carried her little basket of petals, and glowed like she'd swallowed sunlight.
Before the ceremony, she needed to wait in a small room near the entrance. Margaret volunteered to stay with her.
Something in me hesitated at that. I looked her dead in the eye before I walked away. "Her dress stays on."
Margaret gave me an offended little smile. "Obviously."
Ten minutes later, the music started. I stood behind the church doors, waiting for my cue.
They opened.
A murmur rippled through the guests, and my stomach dropped straight through the floor.
Ivy was standing at the head of the aisle in a baggy gray tracksuit. Long sleeves. Long pants. Every inch of skin covered. Her flower basket shook in her small hands, and she was crying.
"Mommy —"
I was already moving. "Baby, what happened?"
Tears spilled down her face. "Grandma Margaret made me change."
Ethan came down off the altar so fast his shoes nearly skidded on the marble. "She did what?"
Margaret appeared a moment later, Ivy's pink dress folded over one arm like nothing had happened. "Please," she said. "Don't make a scene."
I stared at her, my voice flat and cold. "You changed my daughter's clothes five minutes before my wedding."
"I solved a problem."
"What problem?" Ethan's voice cracked across the room.
Margaret glanced at Ivy, then finally said it out loud. "I looked at the rehearsal photos. Her spots draw the eye."
Ivy pressed herself into my side, shaking.
Margaret dropped her voice, but not nearly enough. "They ruin the pictures."
Something in me went ice cold and completely still.
"You're right about one thing," I said, taking the dress out of her hands. "Photographs do last forever. Remember you said that."
I didn't wait for a response. I took Ivy straight back into the little room and helped her out of that ugly tracksuit and back into the dress she'd chosen herself.
When we came back out, Ethan crouched down in front of her. "Ready, flower girl?"
She wiped her eyes. "Even like this?"
He looked straight at her bare, uncovered arms. "Exactly like this. There's no other way I want you."
Her smile came back slow, then all at once.
The ceremony went ahead. But while guests were still congratulating us afterward, I watched Margaret across the room, calmly posing for the photographer and correcting the angle of her own bouquet like nothing at all had happened twenty minutes earlier.
That's when I got an idea.
I found the venue coordinator, Renee. "I want to change something about tonight's schedule."
She checked her clipboard. "How much?"
I glanced across the room at Margaret. "Just one small thing."
By the time the reception started, Margaret had fully recovered. She drifted through the crowd greeting relatives, fixing centerpieces, reminding the photographer that her left side was her "good side."
Then Renee found me quietly by the bar. "Margaret's asking for individual garden portraits before the family photos."
Of course she was.
I looked out at the garden, then checked the time. "When do the sprinklers kick on?"
Renee's eyebrows went up. "About eight minutes."
I smiled. "Don't warn her."
A few minutes later Margaret walked out into the garden with the photographer trailing behind her. Through the glass doors I watched her pose beside the rose bushes, smoothing her hair, checking each shot on the camera screen.
Then the sprinklers went off.
"HANNAH!"
Margaret came storming back through the doors completely drenched. Her styled hair was plastered flat against one side of her face. Her pale-blue dress clung to her shoulders. Water dripped steadily off her earrings, and every step she took let out a wet, furious squeak.
"Not. One. Word," she snapped at the room.
Ethan turned away so fast trying to hide his laughter that he nearly walked into a table.
Margaret rounded on me, finger jabbing the air. "You knew about those sprinklers."
"You asked for the garden," I said, keeping my face carefully blank. "I just adjusted the timing."
The photographer jogged in a moment later. "Family photos in five minutes."
Margaret stared at him like he'd suggested she jump in a lake fully clothed. "I can't take pictures like this."
I looked across the room. Ivy was standing next to Ethan in her pink dress, every patch of her skin completely visible, completely unbothered.
Then I looked back at Margaret. "You still look like yourself."
May you like
She understood exactly what I meant. "Don't make this about the girl."
"You already did that part yourself."
