So far today, Melissa had done yoga at dawn, had a light breakfast, had a massage on the master bedroom deck （Bradley had had one, too, on another deck, since she wanted to surprise him at the First Look）。 The massage was followed by a soothing green tea and cucumber facial and hand treatment and a fresh mani-pedi. A light lunch, a mimosa, several bottles of Perrier mineral water. The hair and makeup stylists had arrived, and right now, she felt like a princess, sitting there in a white silk robe with her minions around her, the photographer moving through the room, his assistants holding up light reflectors.
She had been waiting all her life to feel this way.
“Isn’t this fun?” she asked Ophelia, who was having her hair done as well.
“Not for me.”
“Oh, Phee!” Melissa said, laughing lightly. The photographer took a string of photos, and Melissa turned slightly toward him while still looking at Ophelia. “Go ahead, admit you like being pampered.”
“Can I call my mom today?”
“I thought she was your daughter,” whispered the hairstylist, who was pulling on a few strands of Melissa’s hair to texturize it.
“In my heart, she absolutely is,” Melissa said, glancing up at the woman. Marie? Mary? Marny? Something like that.
“Can I?” asked Ophelia.
“Not today, honey.” Melissa didn’t want the negativity of her sister tainting the beautiful energy today. “You can call her tomorrow and give her all the details. She’ll be dying to hear,” she said, conscious of the eyes on her. “But today, just relax and enjoy, honeybun.”
Now that Ophelia had brought Kaitlyn to the fore, Melissa couldn’t help picturing a different scenario. One with her loving, sober sister, minus the hillbilly accent, minus the numerous tattoos, minus the attitude. Instead, Kaitlyn would be teary-eyed and hilarious, making everyone laugh. In this scenario, she had changed her name spelling to Caitlin, so much classier—and would be the maid of honor. Ophelia would be the happy junior bridesmaid.
It would’ve been nice to have a sister like that. Or a friend.
But she couldn’t taint her big day by thinking sad thoughts. “It’s time to put your dress on, honey,” she said to Ophelia. “You’ll look so gorgeous in it.”
“Fine.” Ophelia stood up. “But this is stupid,” she said. “I barely know him. You barely know him. He’s an idiot, and he’s so fake. I can’t stand him. He just told me to call him Dad, for crying out loud.”
“He loves you,” Melissa said. “Can someone take her to her room and help her with the dress? She won’t be able to zip it alone.”
Ophelia was removed to be dressed. Melissa took a cleansing breath and released it. This day was everything. Her sullen niece was not going to ruin it. No one was going to ruin it.
“Twenty minutes till First Look,” Hannah said, sticking her head in the doorway.
“Thank you, Hannah,” she said smoothly. “I’ll be right on time. Um . . . could you stay and help me get in my gown?”
“Of course. My pleasure.”
Because honestly, the person Melissa knew best in this room was Hannah Chapman. There was that sister pang again. Hannah felt like her friend. For the past six weeks, even before Bradley’s divorce was final, Melissa had talked more to Hannah than anyone, even Bradley. Hannah knew her favorite colors, foods, fabrics, desserts, flowers, vacation spots. She’d told Hannah about Dennis’s “tragic passing” and why this day would be so important.
Because Melissa Grace Spencer Finch soon-to-be Fairchild was in control, living her destiny.
As Hannah zipped her up （and the photographer took more photos）， Melissa had to ask. “How’s your sister doing today? I hate thinking that she’s upset or sad.”
Hannah gave her a mysterious look. “I did call her this morning. She seems great, actually.”
“Is she working today?”
“She said she was reading. She didn’t mention her schedule.”
Melissa had nothing against Lillie, of course. She wasn’t out to hurt her or rub her face in all that she, Melissa, had. No, she wished Bradley’s first wife the best, because that’s what classy people did. Wished the losers luck and kept moving onward and upward. Even so, she was glad she’d thought of security guards.
She put on her simple necklace—a gold bezel-set two-carat diamond—and added her diamond drop earrings. Simple, but so stunning. Her hair was perfect, and she couldn’t take her eyes off her reflection. Click-click-click went the camera.