making.”
Tears stung my eyes.
Before I could respond, a composed voice came from the doorway.
“Actually, she won’t need to wear something else.”
My future mother-in-law, Catherine Whitmore, entered.
A long black garment bag hung from her hand.
She looked remarkably calm.
Her gaze moved from Vanessa to Mother.
Then she smiled warmly at me.
“Emily, sweetheart,” she said, opening the zipper.
“Shall we begin?”
That was when I understood Catherine had prepared for something none of us anticipated.
Catherine gently unzipped the garment bag.
Inside was the loveliest
