Visions of taffeta and strangers flew into her mind. She pictured herself cemented to the bar. A memory of her and Nash’s wedding cut in, and she recalled how wonderful Perrin had been that day, how calm and supportive, when everyone else had said they were too young.
“Of course I’ll be your maid of honor.”
“Thank you!” Perrin startled her by lunging across the table and squeezing her into a tight hug. “I knew I could count on you!”
The next hour passed in a whirlwind of details about Perrin’s perfect wedding. Maggie tried to keep up and not panic when she heard things like maid of honor toast or wedding party dance.
Through it all, she felt under qualified for the job. Yes, she knew her sister better than anyone, but she’d been a shitty friend to her in the last two years. And she hardly knew Bran at all.
“I’m sorry,” she interrupted, barely listening to her diatribe about lilies versus roses.
Perrin’s voice silenced and she frowned. “For what?”
“Everything. I’ve been so out of it. I never check to see how you’re doing, or if you need anything. If you didn’t pop in with coffee every few weeks, we’d never see each other.”
Perrin shifted but didn’t object or deny how terrible she’d been. “You were going through stuff.”
“So were you. You met the man you’re going to spend the rest of your life with, and I never even noticed how important he was to you. I feel so stupid and selfish. You’re getting married, and I don’t know the first thing about the groom.”
“That’s not true.”
Maggie gave her a pointed look, embarrassed to admit how true it actually was.
Perrin mentioned Bran throughout the years, but Maggie only half listened. She’d only met him a handful of times. The most she ever talked to the guy was the night before Nash died.
Maggie’s brow tightened. “Do you think there’s some rule that says sisters aren’t allowed to be happy at the same time?”
“What? Maggie, no.”
“It just seems that Bran showed up just when Nash…”
Her sister gripped her hand. “Look at me, Maggie. Nash died because of bad weather and bald tires. The universe isn’t punishing you. It’s waiting for you. We all are.”
“I’m trying,” she admitted. “I’m trying really hard, but it’s killing me. Every day I box a piece of our life up and carry it out to the shed, waiting for some of the pain to go with it but it won’t.” She sucked in a jagged breath. “It’s got me in this chokehold, and I can barely breathe without hurting or fearing I might die of heartbreak.”
“Oh, Maggie.” She pulled her chair closer and wrapped her in her arms. “Honey, I can’t imagine how bad it hurts. You and Nash were everything to each other. No one expects this to be easy. But we all believe in you. You’re tough and so independent. We just figured if we gave you time…” She ran her hand over her hair and looked at her with tears in her eyes. “Maybe we gave you too much space. We never meant to make you feel like you needed to get through this on your own.”
She wiped her eyes, but more tears came. “It wasn’t you. It was me. I pushed everyone away.”
“You asked for space. You were entitled.”
“I could have been nicer.”
“Could you have?” She looked into her eyes. “I think if I lost the love of my life, I would need to be a little mean for a while. I think that’s normal.”
She caught Perrin’s wrist and squeezed. “Thank you for saying I’m normal.”
“Oh, honey, you are. You’re just a little weird too.”
Maggie laughed. “I missed you.”
Her sister smiled, then held out her arms. Maggie leaned into her, and when she tried to ease away, Perrin held tighter.
“Not yet.”
When they broke apart, Perrin passed her a napkin and took one for herself. They both blew their noses, sounding like a couple of truckers and laughed.
They spent the rest of the afternoon discussing the wedding. Maggie told Perrin she’d taken her advice and started seeing a therapist, and that news filled her sister with hope. She didn’t mention Ryan because there was no point when everything ended as abruptly as it had.
As she walked her out to the car, Perrin hugged her again. “So, the engagement dinner is next Friday at that new restaurant in town. They have a backroom for private functions.”
“Do I need to do anything?” She wasn’t the most girly girl, so she already warned Perrin that she’d need a road map for any expected maid of honor frills.
“No. Mom already started buying decorations, and Bran’s family is taking care of the catering. Just wear something nice and be there at seven.”
“Something nice like a button down?”
Her sister pursed her lips. “Something nice like a dress and heels. If you need to borrow an outfit, I can come by with a few dresses this week.”