She squeezed his hand again. “It’s okay. I knew it was wedding jitters. I shouldn’t have gotten upset, and I shouldn’t have called you a groom-zilla.”

“I was being one. I shouldn’t have pushed you. Your body, your choice.”

She waved at him, dismissing the situation. “No, no, really. It’s not a big ask, and you’re right. Having it straightened will ruin the effect of the dress. And anyway, I’m starting to like it curly like this.”

“It’s gorgeous,” Jos piped in, clearly eavesdropping. “You should leave it curly forever.”

She had gotten used to Jos stating her opinion any time she felt like it, brashly and without invitation. She’d worked with women like her and gone to college with more, and this kind of behavior didn’t faze her. Despite being the eldest sister, Jos had ended up in Stuart’s side of the party, entirely by chance. The men hadn’t been able to decide how to split the sisters up, so they’d essentially drawn lots. Joan and Julia were with Jai, but they’d see the other sisters when they all went to get their dresses after the salon.

“How’s your mom doing?” Jos asked, peering that direction. Stuart and Ryann glanced over, and Ryann was amused to see that Kathy appeared to be relaxed and dazed, blinking owlishly. Judging by her goofy expression, she was also a little drunk. She was already holding another mimosa.

“Having a good time, Mom?” Stuart asked. She raised her glass and giggled, and the three of them laughed. “That’s good. I’m glad. You’re really going to like your hairdresser, too.”

“Oh?” Kathy seemed a little intimidated, her face now twisted with anxiety. Her hair, while clearly expertly cut, was still styled in a classic over-fifty-mother way, in this case a Hillary Clinton bob.

“That’s right! What do you think of having pink hair, Mom?”

She paled, and the three of them laughed again before she realized the joke and smiled. “Oh, Stuart. Please don’t tease me. You know I’m not good at it.”

“I’ll try not to.”

Janet came out then, looking boneless and willowy, her long hair down for the first time in Ryann’s memory. It reached past her waist. She rolled her head around on her shoulders and stretched, languid and catlike. She’d had to schedule a substitute teacher for the day, but from what she’d said about it this morning, she seemed absolutely thrilled. Kids on holidays sounded like lunatics. A morning at the spa had loosened her up.

“Oh, gosh, that was something,” she said, collapsing on a little divan in the middle of the room.

“Would anyone care for another drink?” one of the employees asked.

“Love one, but better not. Long day ahead of us,” Stuart said.