My sister has three hoop earrings in each ear. She has a small diamond stud piercing above her top lip. She looks wild and free and men love her. She finds many men annoying and condescending and tells them so.

We are so different, and I so love her. I’m going to be her maid of honor when she gets married this summer right here, on our property, the garden in full bloom, roses everywhere. Her fiancé, burly, huge, big beard, tattoos, six foot six, is a pediatric nurse. The kids love him because they can see his heart, as all kids seem to be able to do.

“Evie,” she gushed. “Hang on to your hat, hang on to your butt, your maid of honor dress is being made.”

“I’ve got ahold of my butt. Not wearing a hat. What does it look like?”

“I’m not telling you! It’s a surprise! Also, I’m pretty sure I know what I’m wearing for my wedding shoes.”

“Heels? Flats?”

“It’s a surprise!” She laughed. “And I know what my cake is going to be like.”

“Should I ask?”

“Nope. It’s a surprise!”

I could hear her glee. That’s all I needed to hear: her glee. She was so excited to marry Mack. I loved the guy. He was a perfect teddy bear for her, a man with a hard childhood who had left home at fifteen and never looked back. Because of his background he has compassion for others, insight into himself and life, and he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Jules was his whole world. “She’s my apple pie, Evie,” he told me. “My apple pie.”

And that’s all you need to know when someone is getting married: Does the fiancé think that she’s his whole world? His apple pie? If that answer is a yes, ya got a winner.

“I can’t wait for your wedding, Jules. I’m going to dance and shake my tail.”

“Me too. I’m going to shake my tail. Last night, in bed, after Mack and I, well, you know, and then I started to cry”—she started to cry—“and I told him I couldn’t wait until we were married, and he kissed me and said the same thing, and he’s so good in bed, and I love him and he held me all night long like he always does . . .” She sniffled. “He’s a hugger. He’s like a pillow. He’s like my blanket. He’s warm and snuggly . . . as soon as we get home from work we get right into bed. He makes me feel so much better. After some bang-bang, we get up and he feeds and waters me.” She sniffled. I tried not to laugh. Fed and watered!

“I love him so much, Evie. Last week he bought me a sexy sprite outfit. He knows how much I like sprites.” She blew her nose. “He even bought the wings and the high heels and fishnets.”

I did not know that sprites wore fishnets, but you can learn something each day if you’re lookin’ for it. I listened to my sister tell me all about Mack in bed while I ate my chocolates at the beach so I can be perfectly healthy for the wedding.