A Heat of the Moment Thing

by Maggie Le Page

  I laughed. “Oh, come on, Dan!”

  She disappeared back amongst her clothes. “Rossco’s a bit of fun, that’s all. But Sebi? He’s a keeper. He’s delicious. I couldn’t let him get away, could I?”

  Hell, no. Dani never let a man get away. She just discarded them when it suited. Charlie had been her notable exception.

  And the less I thought about that the better. Apparently we’d all moved on from there.

  “How long have you known him?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound too interrogator-ish.

  “A couple of months. The best two months ever,” she added.

  Given what I’d seen of him so far, I didn’t doubt it. But anyone could be Prince Charming for a couple of months.

  “Dan, isn’t this all happening very, very fast?”

  “Whirlwind,” she agreed from the depths of her wardrobe. “But it feels so right.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “You’re sure you’re sure?” Everything else aside, she was still my kid sister.

  Dani re-emerged and took both my hands in hers. Gave me a gentle, unhurried, at-peace smile. A smile that had me thinking maybe she’d been cloned, except they’d wired in someone else’s personality.

  “Becs, I have never been so sure about anything in my life. I promise. Two months or two years, it wouldn’t make any difference. I know him inside out. He’s the one.”

  Hearing these words coming from Dani’s mouth seemed all wrong. It was unnerving. But if she was so utterly sure, then that was that. I’d asked the question and it was all I could do.

  Besides, maybe she was right. Maybe he really was absolutely perfect for her. And if looks were anything to go by . . .

  “What does he do?” I asked.

  She giggled. “Plays golf, mostly.”

  “Quite rich, then?”

  “Stinking. His grandfather set up the Empire hotel chain.”

  “Nice.”

  How did Dani do it? She was about to marry the gorgeous Frenchman with the sexy accent, have mindblowing sex all day, wine and dine at the best restaurants all night, and live happily ever after. While I . . . I was going back to my grotty wee flat, with nothing to look forward to except Old Maid-dom, Friday night curries, and a close relationship with my cat.

  She emerged from the wardrobe wearing her wedding gown. My breath caught.

  “Dan, it’s gorgeous,” I breathed.

  She stood before me in a floor-length figure-hugging raw silk creation, stunning in its simplicity. No big frills, no wads of fabric, no heavy embroidery or sequin clusters or lacy whatevers. But, off-the-shoulder and low-backed, it screamed elegance.

  “Really?” She did a slow twirl.

  “Absolutely. It’s . . . I can’t even find the words. Dan, why on earth did you think puff-ball? It’s not even close.”

  She bit her lip. “I don’t know. It’s white.”

  “Cream.”

  “And bride-y.”

  “You’re a bride!”

  She looked at herself in the mirror. “I—I’m just not sure.”

  “What do you want? You’re not a frills girl. Lace, maybe? A different colour?”

  “I don’t know.” More lip biting.

  “Dan, this is so unlike you.” I came to stand beside her. “Where’s your confidence? Look, hon, it’s made now, so how about you just go with it? Personally, I think you’ve chosen brilliantly. It’s gorgeous. Classy and sexy and unique and absolutely showstoppingly perfect.”

  She turned and looked over her shoulder at herself, then turned back to the front and met my eyes in the mirror. “You think?”

  I smiled, nodded. “Yes.”

  She grabbed my hands, squeezing them tight. “Becs, can you believe it? I’m getting married!”

  I returned the squeeze and grinned. “Yeah. My little sister, married.”

  “Here. Try this on.” She returned to the wardrobe and came back holding a wide, flat cardboard box. “I think it’ll look good on you.”

  “My dress?”

  She nodded. I took the box from her, peeled back the layers of tissue and lifted out my dress. “Wow. Gorgeous colour.”

  “Champagne. Subtle but sexy.”

  I held it against me. “Well?”

  Head to one side, she nodded and smiled. “The colour’s perfect for you. Brings out the highlights in your hair. I guessed the size but you’ve lost a few pounds, I think.” She waved a dismissive hand. “No matter. They can alter it. Come on! Try it on.”

  I stripped down to my underwear, then carefully stepped into the dress. I loved the feel of the raw silk against my skin. But this would never suit me. It was a knee-length version of the wedding dress, and I had way more meat on my bones than Dani.

  “Who are you bringing to the wedding?” she asked.

  “Oh—uh, not sure.”

  “Are you seeing anyone?” She zipped me up then stepped back, waiting for me to turn around.

  I shook my head, pretending to fuss with the neckline.

  “You could bring Charlie.”

  I swung round, face flaming. Then saw the laughter in her eyes.

  “Jeez,” I muttered. “For a minute I thought you meant it.”

  “Anyway, you’ll have to let me know so I can finalise the table settings.”

  What about Jim? Yes. He’d partner me.

  But then he’d stand up in the middle of the service and announce why she shouldn’t be getting married. Or he’d sing slash-your-wrists heartbreak songs all night until I took to him with a dessert spoon and pummelled him to death.

  “Maybe I’ll just come on my own,” I said.

  She hustled me towards the mirror. “Did I choose well?”

  I approached with trepidation. Got ready to smile. However ugly this dress was, however much I hated it, I would hide my disappointment. This wasn’t about me. It was Dani’s wedding. I’d been playing Ugly Older Sister for years; I could play Ugly Bridesmaid, too.

  “Hang on. Don’t look yet.” Dani fishtailed over to me as fast as her dress allowed. “It’s too loose. I’ll get it taken in, like this.” Standing behind me, she hauled on the back of the dress.

  I eeked in surprise, stumbling backwards. She steadied me, her knuckles pushing into my spine, and I looked at my reflection.

  My eyes widened. Was that me?

  I turned this way and that, not quite believing what I saw. When had my hair gotten so glossy and long? When had my body become so slim, so toned? When had I become the person I’d always wished I could be?

  I looked from me to Dani then back again, and began to smile. We looked so alike. Such different colouring, so unmistakeably sisters.

  My throat constricted.

  “Do you like it?” she asked.

  “Oh, Dan, I love it.”

  She smiled, looking relieved.

  “Great.” She hesitated. “Becs, thanks so much for being here. I don’t know what I’d have done if I couldn’t have you as my bridesmaid.”

  “Who are the others?” I unzipped the dress and let it drop to the floor at my feet.

  “Other bridesmaids?” She shook her head. “You’re it.”

  I stared at her. “Really?”

  She shrugged.

  I couldn’t hold back my tears.

  “I’m honoured,” I whispered, and reached out to give her a hug.

  “Me too,” she whispered back, then batted me away. “Watch my dress! You’ll crease it.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Dad looked at his watch. “Thirty minutes and counting, ladies. Are we ready?”

  “No!” Dani wailed. “Not even close!”

  She tugged at her dress, stamped her foot. “This isn’t sitting right. It doesn’t fit.”

  “It does,” I soothed. “Here, let me help.” I unzipped her, realigned the side seams, and zipped her back up. “See? Perfect.”

  She looked at it with suspicion, then sighed. “Thanks.”

 
; “George!” Mum honed in on his tie and started fussing. “You can’t go out like that.”

  “What?” He compressed his lips. “It’s fine.”

  “Well, then, I’m embarrassed.” She shook her head. “To think I’ve let you tie your own ties for years and you’ve been doing this to them.” She tutted again.

  He shot me a long-suffering look.

  Dani let out a high-pitched scream.

  I swore. Mum shrieked. Dad reared up as if he’d touched electrical wires.

  “What?” I demanded.

  “What happened?” Mum shrilled, almost as hysterical as Dani.

  Dani pointed to her left shoulder. “That,” she sobbed. “That’s what happened.”

  Mum and I peered at the fabric.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I don’t see anything, darling,” said Mum.

  “Then look harder,” snapped Dani. “It’s dirty. Dirty. Now what will I do?”

  “Lord, give me strength,” Dad muttered, running a hand over his face. “I need a drink.”

  He edged out of the room.

  I moved closer and spotted a slight blemish, no larger than a pinhead.

  “I think I see it. Just here.” I showed Mum.

  Mum put on her glasses. “Oh, yes. I see it now.” She patted Dani’s unblemished shoulder. “Don’t worry, dear, nobody will notice. And if they do, they’re just being rude. They shouldn’t be looking.”

  “Mum, I’m the bloody bride. Of course they’ll be looking.”

  “It’s only a spot of make-up,” I said. “I’ll sponge it out.”

  “No!” Dani screeched. “Not on raw silk! You’ll leave a water-stain.”

  “O-kaaay,” I said, my voice measured. “I’ll just blow on it, then, ever so gently. And if that doesn’t work—hell, you can always wear jeans.”

  For a moment she looked outraged. Then worked out I was kidding and giggled. I smiled back at her, gave her arm a squeeze.

  “Ten minutes,” Dad yelled from the lounge.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  I blew on the blemish. “No worries, Bridezilla.”

  “Rebecca!” Mum looked horrified.

  Dani and I grinned at each other.

  “How’s that?” I asked, stepping back to check her shoulder.

  “Better,” she admitted. “Much better. Thanks.”

  We trooped through to the lounge, and Dad’s eyes locked on Dani. He stepped forward with such a look of pride on his face I felt suddenly tearful, overcome with a strange mix of gladness that Dani had given him this moment and wistfulness that I couldn’t give it to him.

  “Dani. Beautiful girl,” he said. “And I’m about to give you away.” His eyes narrowed. “He’d better treat you right or he’ll have me to answer to.”

  “And me,” added Mum.

  We all laughed. Mum was by far the scarier prospect.

  “Let’s go, then.” Dad held the front door open.

  I lifted Dani’s whisper of a train.

  “Mind the step, ladies. That’s it.” Dad locked the door.

  “Stop!” Dani squeaked.

  We all stopped.

  “What now?” I asked.

  Dani swivelled from Mum to Dad to me. Her eyes locked on mine.

  “What am I . . .” Her hand went to her face. “I don’t think I can do this.”

  She was just doing this for effect, right?

  But imagine if I read her wrong. She’d never speak to me again—again.

  I played it safe. “Of course you can, Dan.” I set down her train and caught her hands in mine. “If you want to, that is. Do you want to marry Sebi?”

  She hesitated. Her hands trembled. Oh heck. She really was scared, poor thing. And who wouldn’t be? I totally empathised. Marriage was a big step. A huge step. I wasn’t sure I could do it.

  Yeah, and who was I kidding? If it had been Matt . . .

  Stop it! I focused on Dani. “Okay. Different question. Do you want to be with Sebi?”

  She nodded emphatically.

  “Forever?”

  Another nod.

  “And you’re sure he loves you back?”

  A nod, and a glimmer of a smile.

  “Have his kids and cook his meals?”

  She cocked her head to one side and raised an eyebrow.

  I grinned. “Brain working again?”

  “Yeah.” She exhaled slowly. “Thanks.”

  “Ready, then?”

  “As I’ll ever be.” She adjusted her dress. “Right, let’s do this.”

  Dad came forward and put an arm around her shoulders. “If it makes you feel any better, love, I’m still not sure I should’ve married your mother.” He smiled.

  Dani caught my eye and we both laughed.

  I picked up her train. “Um, no, Dad, I don’t think that helps her one little bit.”

  * * *

  It felt like a dream. Disjointed fragments that seemingly meant little. Fragments that, by the end of day, would add up to something far more meaningful. Something momentous. My sister would be married.

  Fragment one: a short journey by limo. All of us smiling and excited. Yet, hovering between us, a certain tension. Our family unit for the past thirty-odd years about to change forever.

  Fragment two: a short walk down the aisle. Me, the not-too-ugly sister, following a few steps behind model-gorgeous Dani, terrified I would ruin her day by tripping and falling face-first in front of their many guests.

  Fragment three: a short ceremony. Everything progressing smoothly. No wild interruptions from jilted lovers, no forgotten vows, no missing rings.

  Fragment four: “You may kiss the bride.” Sebi grinning, stepping closer to Dani. Tilting her chin up with his forefinger, then bringing his lips down to graze hers ever so gently, as if she might crumble at his touch.

  Dani made a small sound and reached out for him. He pulled her into his arms and, with serious fan-your-face French lover flair, kissed her. And kissed her. The church erupted in whoops and cheers, and still he kissed her. The priest ahem’d. Sebi’s left hand wandered down Dani’s spine to cup one perfect buttock. I began to feel embarrassed as it all turned mildly pornographic.

  Fragment five: a short photo shoot. Champagne flowing, spirits high. Look this way, a little to the left, smile, wonderful, next shot please.

  Fragment six: a short series of speeches. Dad, tugging at his collar, out of his comfort zone but determined to do this for his daughter. Sebi, confident and smooth-talking, bringing a blush to Dani’s face as he declared his love all over again. Dani, relaxed and happy, thanking guests for attending, her hand never far from Sebi’s.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off my sister. She looked beautiful. No, not beautiful—she’d always been that. Today she was more than beautiful. It was as if she’d finally found herself and, with that discovery, every worry she’d ever had simply disappeared. She looked radiant.

  The M.C. announced the wedding dance, and Sebi stood, offering Dani his hand. She took it with a smile and they walked onto the dance floor. The opening bars of Joe Cocker’s You Are So Beautiful played and Sebi turned, pulling Dani close. She reached up to whisper in his ear. He smiled at whatever she’d said then kissed her nose. She rested her head against his chest and for a moment they just stood there, motionless. A contented smile played around her lips. She seemed different around him. Softer. More feminine.

  It suited her.

  They danced as one, so engrossed in each other the rest of us may as well not have existed. They looked perfect together, complete.

  This hasty, hasty marriage was built on rock-solid love.

  I dabbed at my eyes. To think I’d almost missed being a part of this ultra-important day in her life. And over a man, for goodness sake. No man should ever come between sisters.

  Or perfectly happy couples.

  My throat felt raw. What I would’ve given to have had all this with Matt.

  And enough already. His loss.

  But
mine, too. Which was why I would ring him. Soon.

  I moved to the Best Man’s side. “Come on. Our turn, now,” I said, and dragged him onto the dance floor.

  * * *

  “. . . And don’t forget to water the yukka,” said Dani.

  “The yukka? Dan, hang up. Have sex. Have your honeymoon. Fuck the yukka.”

  She laughed. “Okay, I’m gone. Thanks, Becs. Wish you were here.”

  “No you don’t.”

  “Au revoir.” She ended the call and I smiled. How long before Dani’s every other word was French?

  A fresh flurry of nerves stole my breath and I gazed around the bustling café, hand to throat. Was he here yet?

  No. Good. I wasn’t ready. I needed to breathe. Feel calm. Be strong.

  I wiped clammy hands down my jeans. Inhaled long. Exhaled hard.

  Oh, come on. Pull yourself together, girl.

  I watched a couple loving it up a few tables away. What if he didn’t show? What if he still thought I wasn’t worth it?

  I bit my lip, fiddled with a loose thread on my jacket.

  Well, he might. And in the end, if that was his choice, then that was his right. Yes, it would hurt to know he couldn’t even be bothered talking to me, but at least I’d know.

  I’d rung him, and I was here, and that was the important thing.

  My phone rang and my heart shunted downwards. I checked the caller. Liz. My heart limped back to its rightful place.

  “Hi, Becs. What are you up to?”

  “Nothing much.”

  I’d tell her later. I didn’t want her there-there-ing me right now. She’d have me in tears and no way would I let Matt see me like that. “You?”

  “I’m flying to the States. My aunt’s died.”

  “Oh, hon, I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” Liz’s tone was brusque. “I haven’t seen her in years. We weren’t that close.”

  “Is this the one you stayed with for a bit?”

  “Yes. I wouldn’t bother making the trip, but her lawyer rang and . . .” She paused, sighed. “Apparently Elsie left me her entire estate.”

  I sat up straighter. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” She sounded as excited as Eeyore. “From what I remember, it’s mostly landfill. She’s basically picked me as her cleaning lady.”

  “Oh.”