the wedding dress would send me over the edge into a full-scale panic attack.
Alice was back before I had taken two hundred breaths, in a dress that flowed down her slender body like a silvery waterfall.
“Alice—wow.”
“It’s nothing. No one will be looking at me today. Not while you’re in the room.”
“Har har.”
“Now, are you in control of yourself, or do I have to bring Jasper up here?”
“They’re back? Is my mom here?”
“She just walked in the door. She’s on her way up.”
Renée had flown in two days ago, and I’d spent every minute I could with her—every minute that I could pry her away from Esme and the decorations, in other words. As far as I could tell, she was having more fun with this than a kid locked inside Disneyland overnight. In a way, I felt almost as cheated as Charlie. All that wasted terror over her reaction . . .
“Oh, Bella!” she squealed now, gushing before she was all the way through the door. “Oh, honey, you’re so beautiful! Oh, I’m going to cry! Alice, you’re amazing! You and Esme should go into business as wedding planners. Where did you find this dress? It’s gorgeous! So graceful, so elegant. Bella, you look like you just stepped out of an Austen movie.” My mother’s voice sounded a little distance away, and everything in the room was slightly blurry. “Such a creative idea, designing the theme around Bella’s ring. So romantic! To think it’s been in Edward’s family since the eighteen hundreds!”
Alice and I exchanged a brief conspiratorial look. My mom was off on the dress style by more than a hundred years. The wedding wasn’t actually centered around the ring, but around Edward himself.
There was a loud, gruff throat-clearing in the doorway.
“Renée, Esme said it’s time you got settled down there,” Charlie said.
“Well, Charlie, don’t you look dashing!” Renée said in a tone that was almost shocked. That might have explained the crustiness of Charlie’s answer.
“Alice got to me.”
“Is it really time already?” Renée said to herself, sounding almost as nervous as I felt. “This has all gone so fast. I feel dizzy.”
That made two of us.
“Give me a hug before I go down,” Renée insisted. “Carefully now, don’t tear anything.”
My mother squeezed me gently around the waist, then wheeled for the door, only to complete the spin and face me again.
“Oh goodness, I almost forgot! Charlie, where’s the box?”
My dad rummaged in his pockets for a minute and then produced a small white box, which he handed to Renée. Renée lifted the lid and held it out to me.
“Something blue,” she said.
“Something old, too. They were your Grandma Swan’s,” Charlie added. “We had a jeweler replace the paste stones with sapphires.”
Inside the box were two heavy silver hair combs. Dark blue sapphires were clustered into intricate floral shapes atop the teeth.
My throat got all thick. “Mom, Dad… you shouldn’t have.”
“Alice wouldn’t let us do anything else,” Renée said. “Every time we tried, she all but ripped our throats out.”
A hysterical giggle burst through my lips.
Alice stepped up and quickly slid both combs into my hair under the edge of the thick braids. “That’s something old and something blue,” Alice mused, taking a few steps back to admire me. “And your dress is new… so here—”
She flicked something at me. I held my hands out automatically, and the filmy white garter landed in my palms.
“That’s mine and I want it back,” Alice told me.
I blushed.
“There,” Alice said with satisfaction. “A little color—that’s all you needed. You are officially perfect.” With a little self-congratulatory smile, she turned to my parents. “Renée, you need to get downstairs.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Renée blew me a kiss and hurried out the door.
“Charlie, would you grab the flowers, please?”
While Charlie was out of the room, Alice hooked the garter out of my hands and then ducked under my skirt. I gasped and tottered as her cold hand caught my ankle; she yanked the garter into place.
She was back on her feet before Charlie returned with the two frothy white bouquets. The scent of roses and orange blossom and freesia enveloped me in a soft mist.
Rosalie—the best musician in the family next to Edward—began playing the piano downstairs. Pachelbel’s Canon. I began hyperventilating.
“Easy, Bells,” Charlie said. He turned to Alice nervously. “She looks a little sick. Do you think she’s going to make it?”
His voice sounded far away. I couldn’t feel my legs.
“She’d better.”
Alice stood right in front of me, on her tiptoes to better stare me in the eye, and gripped my wrists in her hard hands.
“Focus, Bella. Edward is waiting for you down there.”
I took a deep breath, willing myself into composure.
The music slowly morphed into a new song. Charlie nudged me. “Bells, we’re up to bat.”
“Bella?” Alice asked, still holding my gaze.
“Yes,” I squeaked. “Edward. Okay.” I let her pull me from the room, with Charlie tagging along at my elbow.
The music was louder in the hall. It floated up the stairs along with the fragrance of a million flowers. I concentrated on the idea of Edward waiting below to get my feet to shuffle forward.
The music was familiar, Wagner’s traditional march surrounded by a flood of embellishments.
“It’s my turn,” Alice chimed. “Count to five and follow me.” She began a slow, graceful dance down the staircase. I should have realized that having Alice as my only bridesmaid was a mistake. I would look that much more uncoordinated coming behind her.
A sudden fanfare trilled through the soaring music. I recognized my cue.
“Don’t let me fall, Dad,” I whispered. Charlie pulled my hand through his arm and then grasped it tightly.
As soon as my feet were past the treacherous stairs, I was looking for him. For a brief second, I was distracted by the profusion of white blossoms that hung in garlands from everything in the room that wasn’t alive, dripping with long lines of white gossamer ribbons. But I tore my eyes from the bowery canopy and searched across the rows of satin-draped chairs—blushing more deeply as I took in the crowd of faces all focused on me—until I found him at last, standing before an arch overflowing with more flowers, more gossamer.
I was barely conscious that Carlisle stood by his side, and Angela’s father behind them both. I didn’t see my mother where she must have been sitting in the front row, or my new family, or any of the guests—they would have to wait till later.
All I really saw was Edward’s face; it filled my vision and overwhelmed my mind. His eyes were a buttery, burning gold; his perfect face was almost severe with the depth of his emotion. And then, as he met my awed gaze, he broke into a breathtaking smile of exultation.
Suddenly, it was only the pressure of Charlie’s hand on mine that kept me from sprinting headlong down the aisle.
