Carrie
MY DRESS WAS fitted through the bodice and fell into a dramatic train. The fabric was delicate crepe, and the back dipped low to reveal a string of freshwater pearls that dangled along my spine. The first time I’d put it on, Aunt Jackie had cried, then waved her hands at the rest of us like it was our fault she was emotional. Which, I supposed, it was.
Uncle Greg saw me months later, when I finally exited the bridal suite and made my way to the hotel ballroom where the ceremony would take place. His eyes watered just as much as Jackie’s had, and the hard man couldn’t stop himself from crushing me into a hug until Aunt Jackie screeched at him not to ruin my hair.