I don’t want to be alone, so I decide it’s best for me to be here, in the bridal spa...bathroom...whatever. I step from behind one of the changing screens. The other bridesmaids, all ten of them, are primping themselves in the mirror. Stacey is sitting in a chair getting her hair done. She hasn’t put the dress on yet, but I can’t wait to see it. “Are you nervous?” I ask, admiring the handiwork of the stylist. Her beautiful auburn hair is pulled up with tons of bobby pins and her ringlet curls bounce. “Oh my God, yes! I’m a wreck. I didn’t even sleep last night,” she talks so fast, then downs a glass of wine. “I hope I don’t fall flat on my face.” I giggle. “Keep drinking that wine, then you might.” She laughs in return. “I’m sure all will be perfect.” “You’re right, I should really slow down and save it for the reception.” She puts the glass down on the end table beside her. “Ow, shit! Don’t pull so tight, I’m not gonna be able to blink,”
