Coming Home(22)

Holly winked before turning to examine herself in the mirror.

“Lemme see, lemme see!” Robyn called from outside the dressing room, and Holly leaned over and swung the curtain aside.

Robyn squealed, clapping her hands quickly as she walked in a circle around them. “Perfect! You guys look hot.” She gave them another once-over before she said, “Awesome. Okay then, get dressed and let’s get the hell out of here and get some dinner. And more importantly, some drinks. I’m gonna go get us a table.”

She pulled the curtain closed behind her as she walked out, and Leah and Holly smiled at each other. Robyn was—by far—the most composed, unstressed, laid-back bride they had ever known.

One of the many reasons Leah loved her so much.

Leah turned her back to Holly, offering her the zipper. “Okay, do me and I’ll do you.”

“I don’t normally swing that way, but you do look hot right now.”

Someone cleared her throat loudly in the next fitting room, and Leah fought a laugh, bringing her finger to her lips.

Holly was the first friend she’d made when she moved to Bedford in the seventh grade. On Leah’s first day, Holly pulled up a chair next to her in homeroom and asked to see her schedule, scanning it for a minute before she went off on a detailed explanation of where every class was, which teachers were awesome, and which “sucked ass,” as she put it. Then she offered to walk Leah to her first class, since they had it together.

They’d been friends ever since.

The summer before ninth grade, they met Robyn—she had just moved to New York from Michigan and ended up working at the same summer camp as Leah and Holly. The three of them were inseparable for the next four years and visited one another every chance they got throughout college. To this day, Leah’s father still referred to them as the Three Stooges.

As Leah was putting her clothes back on, her phone buzzed with an e-mail notification. She reached down and grabbed it, opening the message with one hand while she slipped her shoes back on with the other.

It was the delivery confirmation for the flowers she’d sent to Catherine.

She smiled, closing out of the message and tossing her phone back into her purse. Leah had been trying to think of something nice she could do for her ever since their visit, and that morning, she had noticed an advertisement for one of those national online flower distributors on her homepage. The arrangement on the ad was an elaborate display of daffodils in a beautiful embossed vase. She instantly thought of Catherine—how she seemed to have a thing for daffodils—and ordered the arrangement right before she left to meet Robyn and Holly at the boutique.

Once the girls were dressed, they went across the street to the little Mexican restaurant that Robyn loved, only to find her already seated at a table with a pitcher of margaritas and three glasses.

“I would totally propose right now if you weren’t already getting married,” Leah said as she sat at the table and poured herself a drink.

“Speaking of,” Holly said as she took the pitcher Leah handed her, “how’s the whole celibacy thing going?”

Robyn groaned, dropping her face into her hands. “I’m such an idiot. It sounded like such a good idea, you know? I mean, your wedding night is supposed to be this big, momentous event. What’s big and momentous about having sex with someone you’ve been sleeping with for eight years?”

“So why not just renege?” Holly asked, reaching for a chip and dunking it in the salsa.

“Because we’ve already made it this far. It’s only a couple more weeks. Besides, I’m so hard up at this point that any sex I get will be mind-blowing. Our wedding night is pretty much guaranteed to make me see stars.”