Ben: You doing okay? Studies all good and everything? Ben: C’mon, Liz. Talk to me. I’m still your friend. Ben: So I guess you’ll be at the wedding? * * * “He’s not really going to wear one of those white satin Elvis jumpsuits, is he?” My sister shrugged. “Whatever makes him happy.” “Yeah, but this is your wedding.” “Our wedding¸” she corrected, applying a final coat of lipstick then blotting it carefully on a tissue. “God, Anne. You look amazing.” She really did. The vintage lace dress was divine. With her bright-red hair artfully drawn back from her face, she looked so elegant. I had to blink a time or two, my eyes actually getting a little misty. Given how long the makeup artist had labored over my face, I didn’t dare mess up her hard work. “Thank you.”
