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But first, I had a dress to try on.

“I’m ready,” I called to Nan, hanging up with the caterer, having just added those extra fish meals as a precaution.

“You look so beautiful in your mother’s gown.” Nan handed me the carefully hung garment and gave me a little shove toward the stairs so I could get ready. “This time we’ll try it with the veil, too, so we can see the full effect,” she added with a sweet smile.

As soon as my mother offered to let me alter and wear her dress, I jumped at the opportunity. Nobody was as happily married as my parents—at least not anyone that I knew. That was part of the reason I became so close with Nan growing up. Mom and Dad were always an item, so wrapped up in each other. That left me and Nan as a de facto couple ourselves. She and I have been best friends as long as I can remember, and that was never going to change even after I became a Mrs.

And I could use this final fitting to tell her precisely that. After the awkward exchange with Sharon on the porch, I knew she needed it. That’s probably why I rushed when putting on my dress, not even bothering to look at myself in the mirror before bustling back down the stairs.

“I’ve been thinking,” I began, “and I just want you to know that—”

“Oh, Angie! Oh, dear!” Nan exclaimed, bringing both hands to her face, which was growing pale with horror. “What happened to your dress?”

My eyes searched hers for answers. Was this some kind of joke? Because it wasn’t very nice, and it wasn’t at all like my sweet nan. Perhaps the stress of the day was getting to her as well? I pursed my lips, unsure of what to say.

Nan raised a shaking finger and pointed to my ivory silk train. I twisted to see better and found that in addition to the lace trim and delicate beading, an unexpected new embellishment had been added—long, angry claw marks tore at the fabric, ripping clean through in several places.

My mother’s dress! My dress! My big day! Noooooo!

This time when the tears started to fall I was not the least bit surprised. As the salty signs of my sadness rolled down my cheeks, Pringle entered from the kitchen, carrying with him a snack-sized bag of Cheetos.

My eyes grew wide as I watched the raccoon lick orange powder from his black fingers.“Pringle!” I shouted. “How could you?”

He gulped.“How could I what? Oh, I found these in the trash. Someone started but didn’t finish them. I didn’t take anything new, I promise. Did you know there was a reality show crew here earlier? It’s like all my prayers have been answered. Now I Just have to get them to realize I’m a star in the making, and—”

“Why are you in my house?” I demanded, stomping my foot like a fighting bull.

He smiled, completely unaware of the rage bubbling up inside me.“I was invited. You said as long as I was invited, it was okay to come inside.”

I turned sharply, and my dress swirled behind me.“Look at it. It’s ruined! Why would you do this to me? Why?”

Now he got it, but he seemed more confused than anything. Probably wondering how he was stupid enough to get caught. Surely, he knew what he’d done was wrong. Yet his words suggested otherwise. “Miss Angela, I didn’t touch your dress, I swear. I would never—”

“Out!” I cried, stomping toward the door and flinging it open so hard it hit the wall. “Get out now, and don’t bother coming to the ceremony or the reception tomorrow. You will not be welcomed!”

The raccoon intruder dropped the snack bag to the floor and hung his head, then proceeded to stumble toward the door on two legs, looking very much like a depressedPeanuts character as he went.

As soon as he was out, I slammed the door behind him. Well, I’d been waiting and waiting, and now this was it. This was Alpha’s revenge. The worst part was that Pringle hadn’t even realized he’d done anything wrong. I don’t know what kind of mind control the evil seagull had managed to exert over the raccoon, but his plan had worked perfectly. He’d recruited an inside man—or at least an animal with relatively easy access to the house—and then he’d gotten him to destroy the one part of the wedding that couldn’t be salvaged.

Nan came over and wrapped her arms around me, then hugged me while I shook and cried and cursed the day I ever met that trouble-making raccoon.

“I know someone who can fix it,” Nan whispered once my sobs began to slow. “It won’t be cheap and it won’t be fast, but we can still save the dress.”

“In time for the ceremony tomorrow?” I asked, blinking up at her.

She pressed her lips together and shook her head, revealing that tears were shining in her eyes as well.“No, honey, but look at the bright side.” She placed her hand under my chin and turned me toward her so our eyes met. “You now have the perfect excuse to renew your vows later—perhaps on your one-year anniversary—and you’ve also got the perfect dress to do it in.”

Instead of having the intended effect, however, that made me cry even harder. I still wasn’t sure I’d survive the first wedding. Why on earth would I voluntarily submit myself to a second?

“What do I do now?” I sobbed and accepted a tissue from the box Nan now held out before me. “I can’t get married in my pajamas.”

She shook her head and pushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear.“Charles loves you. Not some dress. Trust me, honey, it won’t matter what you wear as long as you show up at the altar.”

I smiled. She was trying so hard to put her own issues aside to help me. At the very least, I could stop worrying about Alpha’s revenge now. He’d definitely gotten it, all right. That meant I had no more unknowns to contend with, right? That everything would now go according to plan?

“This isnot unfixable,” Nan insisted, grabbing my hand and squeezing it in hers. “As far as I’m concerned you have plenty of options. Let’s see, you could borrow a different dress from your mother. I can stay up all night to make the alterations. I don’t mind at all. Or we could borrow a dress from the local theater company. They still have some nice gowns from last month’s production ofFiddler, and you’re roughly the same size as Tzeitel, I’d say. Of course, you could wear a dress you already have, or—oh—we could drive down to the city and do some shopping. We have plenty of time. We can—”

“Nan,” I interrupted with a soft laugh. Suddenly I knew exactly what to do. It wasn’t the original plan, but I loved it all the same. “I love you, and I appreciate you, but we don’t need to do any of that.”

“We don’t?” she asked, tilting her head in question.

“Nope, I have the perfect idea.”

9

It took me a couple hours to hunt down my replacement wedding gown that night, which meant I didn’t get to bed until late. I’d hoped to spend some time chatting with Mags, but when I rapped softly on her door, only the sounds of her snoring greeted me. Poor thing seemed just as exhausted as I felt.

I stopped by Christine’s room to say good night and make sure the cats weren’t being too much trouble, but she just shooed me away. “The cats and I are fine. Go get your beauty rest, wifey!”

Before I could turn to leave, however, Octo-Cat wedged himself in the open door.“We still need to finish our talk,” he informed me rather ominously.

“No, no, kitty!” I said in a squeaky baby voice that people tended to use with their pets. “You need to stay in here tonight.”

“I will end you,” Octo-Cat growled but fell back a few steps, allowing my escape.

“And next time we talk, I won’t be so agreeable!” he called after me through the closed door.

Cats. They were so delusional, every single one of them. And now I’d be owned by three—one of whom liked me okay some of the time and two who actively protested my very existence.Joy.

After that, I took a quick rinse-off in the shower, imagining all my worries being cleansed from my body and sucked down the drain. I guess I must have inadvertently picked up a meditation technique or two from Nan over the years. Whatever the case, all these visualization tools were definitely helping curtail my anxiety now. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to join her for yoga a couple times a week going forward.