“Tearing up in manly happiness after watching the most moving sports movie of all time is not the same as crying. And if you ever do meet a someone who doesn’t cry at the end of Rudy, I suggest you run away as fast as you can because they one hundred percent have a treasure trove of dead bodies piled up in their basement.”

“Is this how you talk to everyone or just me?”

“Just you, Sullivan. You’re a lucky lady.”

14

“So, when you said running an errand for Cristina, I was thinking more along the lines of buying pens or picking up computer ink.”

“Meaning you thought we were going to Staples? I told you before we left that I was picking up Cristina’s veil.”

“Granted, but I just didn’t think it would be this...bridey.”

Anxiously glancing around the veil section of the fancy bridal salon we’re now waiting in, Ryan looks as if he were dropped down and left to survive on an alien planet made solely of beige carpeting. Miles of chiffon, tulle and organza surround us from the walls. Some veils have sparkles, some have pearls, and for some inexplicable reason I want to touch all of them.

We shouldn’t even be here right now, but somehow Cristina’s veil didn’t get packed in with her wedding dress when she picked it up yesterday. After having a mild heart attack, she called the salon and they confirmed it was still in the store and told her she could come pick it up whenever she was available. Problem was, Cristina wasn’t going to be available until two weeks after she said “I do.” She’s with the florist at this very moment and is then going straight over to the venue for a final, comprehensive meeting, and will be prepping for the rehearsal dinner all day tomorrow.

Thus, here we are. And as overwhelming as the whole scene is, I still can’t help myself from drifting to the nearest wall and moving my fingers along the delicate fabric of one of the veils. I can feel myself being lured deeper into the hypnotic bridal cloud that is ready to engulf me, but strangely enough, I’m okay with it.

“When I was little,” I say, not turning around to face Ryan, “I wanted a veil just as long as Princess Diana’s.”

“How long was that?”

“One-hundred and fifty-three yards. Is it weird that I know that?”

“No, it sounds reasonable.”

I smile and move along to a veil with antique lace trim as Ryan still stays frozen in place. “On one of the many bridal reality shows I watch, a girl had her deceased mom’s name embroidered into the edge of her veil. I thought that was a nice idea I could use with my dad someday. That way he can still walk me down the aisle.”

“You should do that then.”