“Beautiful, isn’t it?” her mom said.
“Yeah, it is.”
“Glad you let me talk you into it now? It’s just perfect for the venue.”
Leigh nodded, so sick of certain words—venue, entrance, presentation.
She let herself be led to the fitter and dutifully stripped. The dress was slippery and cool as lake water as it slid down her bare skin, and she felt clad in something beyond satin… adulthood, perhaps. Womanhood. Her mother tugged her from the thought.
“Oh, Leigh.” She tapped a finger against Leigh’s belly. And only in L.A. would it count as a belly. “You and that peanut butter.”
Leigh smoothed the satin over her offense. “Girls should know it’s normal to have a stomach.”
“I agree, but it’s not normal for a person to eat half a jar of that stuff by herself. It’s very fattening, and you won’t have that metabolism forever.”
Leigh shrugged. “Tell me you’d prefer I take up smoking, then.”
Her pack-a-day mother smiled grimly and dropped the subject. “Well, you look beautiful, belly and all.”
Leigh turned to the cheval mirror at her side, and she had to admit the girl reflected back was pretty. Though once her hair and makeup were done, her snack digested and belly deflated, would there be anything of Leigh left?
She looked to her mom. “Do you remember what you promised me? My wedding gift? About quitting smoking once all this craziness is over?”
“I remember.”
Leigh grinned hopefully. “So I’ll get back from the island and you’ll be all strung out and snappy?”
“I’ll do better than that, honey, and finish the withdrawal while you’re away.”
Leigh smiled again. Though her mother promised to quit smoking nearly as often as she lit up. “There’s other stuff that needs to change, once I’m back.”
Her mother feigned ignorance, fussing with some invisible imperfection in the satin. “Oh?”
“About you and Dad? Maybe going on a trip of your own, away from all this?”
“I don’t know, Leigh. I’ve got a hundred things going on, all that stuff with the charity ball coming up in June.”
Leigh opened her mouth, then closed it, realizing she didn’t have the stamina for this argument. But once she got back from her honeymoon she’d be putting her own marriage first, instead of acting like a smoke screen in theirs. Once today was behind her, she’d be in the clear. Marriage would render her blissfully boring to the press, and she couldn’t wait to fade into obscurity for a year or two, maybe permanently. Fame had never been her dream. Just another role she’d stumbled into, trying to make people happy.
She stared out the huge window across the city. What would Dan be doing, right now? Probably sleeping in, after his bachelor party. Not that Dan was much for getting wasted and crazy. He was a pretty low-key guy. Or he used to be a pretty low-key guy. Who he was wasn’t so clear anymore.
She missed his passion. Their hectic, high-profile engagement had done a number on their sex life, and Leigh suspected he was readjusting how he saw her, no longer his girlfriend, but his soon-to-be wife.
When the fitter got to her knees to fuss with the hem, Leigh leaned close to her mother’s ear to whisper, “I don’t think Dan and I have had sex in nearly a month.”
“You’re very busy people.”
“No one’s that busy. We’re not even newlyweds yet. That can’t be normal, can it?”
“You and Dan aren’t normal people. And Dan is very ambitious. You’re lucky to have such a driven man, Leigh, really. Not like your father—”
“Ma.”
“A lot of girls in your position have husbands who don’t expect to do a thing after they get a nice tight grip on those celebrity coattails. Dan’s not one of them. You’re very, very lucky.”
Leigh knew she ought to feel lucky. The man she was marrying was her best friend. Or had been. She prayed they’d get some of that back, being away from everyone for two weeks. No, they would get it back. She needed to think positive. Still, a bit of reassurance wouldn’t hurt.
When the fitter excused herself to make a call, Leigh thought she ought to do the same. She padded back down the hall to her own room, shut the door and stood before the windows, holding down a button on her phone to speed-dial Dan.
He answered just as she was about to hang up, and his voice alone reminded her to breathe. “Hey, you. What’s up?”
“Hey. I, um… Oh God, I don’t know.” She laughed, already calming.
His tone was warm, but tight as well. “Everything okay? You sound kinda spastic, spazzy.”
She smiled at his teasing. “I guess I’ve got jitters, but I wanted to hear your voice, before I saw you. You know, at the altar.”
“You’re sweet. I’ve got jitters, too. Goes with the territory, right? Especially with the audience we’ve got watching. You’ll be fine.”
Leigh waited a beat for something more—an “I love you,” perhaps. It didn’t arrive, but Dan was stressed, same as her. And like her, he didn’t really know what he was doing. No script, just two young people nervous before their vows. Normal. The thing Leigh ached most to be. She glanced at her ring, its diamond blinking in the morning sunlight.
“Okay,” she said. “Thanks. I just needed to talk.”
“Just breathe, and I’ll see you before you know it. I better go. I’ve got my brother on the other line.”
“Tell him hi. See you soon.”
“Bye.”
Leigh nearly hung up, but after a pause Dan added, “Babe?” He hadn’t called her that in months, and the name flooded her with relief.
She held back an impulsive plea—that they run off and elope, skip all the staged drama. “Yeah?”
“Sorry about that. It was her.”
Leigh’s brow furrowed. “Her?”
Dan laughed. “It was Leigh. She’s got bridal nerves.”
She went dead numb, head enveloped by an echoing, unnatural calm as she realized he thought he was talking to someone else.
“Babe?”
This time the pet name hit her like a slap. “Yeah?” her mouth replied, disconnected from her brain.
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”
“No,” Leigh murmured.
“I
