Page 25 of Our Big White Lie
Lynnette laughed. “Oh, I get that. Okay.” She pulled a couple of tablets out of her desk and handed them to us. “For starters, I want to get a feel for what styles you’re each looking for.”
I turned to Ava. “Do you think we should go for similar styles? Or do like Leslie and Fiona did—where they each just got what they wanted even though they were totally different?”
Ava shrugged, peering down at the tablet in her hand. “I think whatever we each want?” She met my gaze through her long lashes and smiled. “Wear whatever makes you happy.”
Why did that make me warm all over?
I didn’t let myself think about it, and shifted my attention to the tablet.
All right, Tori. What are you wearing for your fake wedding day?
CHAPTER NINE
Ava
Not gonna lie—I was a little intimidated by Lynnette’s Bridal Boutique.
Lynnette herself was amazing and I instantly adored her, but for all I’d told Tori to chill about the sticker shock, I was having some second thoughts. Did we even belong in a place like this? Aunt Lacey and Cousin Ginny had sworn this wastheplace to buy a wedding dress, and I’d taken them at their word without remembering that they had, shall we say, a taste for the finer things.
Tori and I weren’t what I would call butch by any means, but we also weren’tfancy. And everything here—even the stuff in our price range—wasfancy.
While Lynnette and Tori went through some details, I was still scrolling through the tablet. As I scrolled and scrolled and scrolled some more, I felt more and more like a fish out of water. One of our friends had worn a white pantsuit to her wedding last spring, while her wife had gone for the full-on princess gown. Neither of those were my style, but the more I looked at these dresses, the more I wondered if maybe the pantsuit wasn’t such a bad idea. I’d worn them before and felt fine. I also wore dresseswithout issue. But I wasn’t so sure I was a wedding dress girl after all.
Is that part of Mom’s dream, though? Seeing me in the white dress?
I chewed the inside of my cheek as I thumbed through some more photos of dresses. I knew she’d never want me getting married in something I wasn’t comfortable in, and I should focus on making this the weddingIwanted, even if it was fake. Mom would be horrified if she thought for a second that I was doing anything—including getting married at all—just to make her happy.
So if I wanted to wear a white suit to my wedding, she’d support that. Hell, she’d support me going full goth if I wanted to, and knowing her, she’d go all in with the black dress and eyeliner as the goth mother of the bride.
The thought made a laugh bubble up in me, which turned Lynnette and Tori’s heads.
“Nothing.” I shook my head and buried my gaze in the tablet. “Sorry.”
Tori gave my foot a playful nudge with hers, and I nudged it back. Then she and Lynnette went back to discussing skirt lengths while I continued through the endless catalogue of styles.
We could still do a fitting if I got a suit, right? Like do the whole mini fashion show, trying on a few different styles, saying yes to the suit—right? Then Mom could still enjoy the experience of helping her daughter shop for what she’d wear as a bride. We could totally?—
Oh. Wait. What was this?
I tapped a photo that looked closer to a sundress than a wedding dress. From there, the tablet took me to more photos of similar styles. They looked… light and airy. Comfortable. No big bows. No head-to-toe bedazzling. Just simple white dressesin what looked like lightweight fabrics. Not so thin they’d be see-through, but they wouldn’t be too hot, too heavy, or too suffocating either. A few had straps, and others had sleeves of varying lengths and styles.
Okay. Okay, I could work with these.
“So before we start the fitting…” Lynnette looked at each of us. “Are we keeping each other’s dresses out of sight before the wedding? Or are we not worrying about that?”
I turned to Tori. She met my gaze and shrugged.
Then a memory flashed through my mind from Ginny’s recent wedding. We’d been watching through a window as Ginny and her husband did their first look photos. His reaction upon seeing her had been amazing. He’d broken into a huge smile and very nearly started crying. The resulting photos and video were beautiful too.
“I know times have changed,” Mom had said softly. “But I wish more couples would wait until the wedding like they did. There should be some surprise—some big reveal—of seeing your bride in her dress for the first time.”
“Isn’t it a superstitious thing?” I’d asked.
“It can be.” She’d shrugged. “But I think it’s just a shame to lose that moment, whether they do it at the ceremony or”—she’d gestured at the happy couple outside—“a first look.” With a fond but slightly sad smile, she’d added, “Why miss out on a moment you only get one time?”
She had a point.
In the present, I cleared my throat. “I’d, um… I’d really like to do a first look at the wedding.” I turned to Tori again and offered a half-shrug. “If you’re okay with that?”
