Page 122 of My Big Fat Shifter Wedding

Somehow, my brother looked even more sheepish, his cheeks turning pink. “I made it actually...”

“You made this?”

It was only then that I realized the pendant wasn’t made of metal. As I touched it, felt its weight against me, and the way it absorbed the warmth of my body, I realized it was wood. Something I wouldn’t have thought twice about before Keith, but some of the knowledge of his field had worn off on me it seemed.

“Yeah, Keith has been teaching me. I knew what I wanted to get you ever since you two got engaged, but it wasn’t until he made that wedding pergola that I decided to ask him.”

“I can’t…” I didn’t have the words to articulate what I meant, so instead I hugged my brother again. “Thank you. Really. Thank you so much.”

“Of course. You’re the best big sister a young wolf could ask for. Now, Mama wanted me to tell you that the ceremony is supposed to start in ten minutes.”

“Tell her I said thank you,” I said, grateful that she and I had had our moment before Amanda did my makeup. “I think I need a touch-up, but then I’ll be ready to go.”

“Should I tell the wedding party to start lining up?”

“Yes, absolutely,” I said, trying not to get distracted imagining how Keith looked in his tux. After a lot of hemming and hawing, we decided to forgo first looks because even if I hadn’t spent much of my childhood imagining my wedding, ever since I’d fallen in love with Keith, I’d been imagining that moment when our eyes locked as I walked down the aisle. I wasn’t about to miss that for the world. “Amanda and I will be down once we hear our cue.”

He nodded, then bent down to brush a light kiss over my cheek. I let his affection wash over me. I was extremely grateful that he hadn’t grown into a teenager who thought it was uncool to show his emotions. From what I understood, that was becoming rare.

Once he was gone, there was a flurry of activity as Ginna, who had been calmly sitting to the side, stood and gathered Rosemary and Oregano. The two dogs were fully dressed in their ring-bearer outfits.

“I suppose I’ll head down too since I’m walking with Rolando,” she said. “And for what it’s worth, baby sister, I’m really proud of you.”

“Thank you, Ginna. For throwing my bachelorette party and letting your fur babies be part of our ceremony.” I’d intended to have two of the young ones be the ring bearers, as that was tradition, but Keith and I had realized that since we wanted a smaller ceremony it could potentially look like we were playing favorites. That was when Ginna had swept in and mentioned that her dogs were trained in everything they’d need to bring a pair of rings down the aisle.

That, of course, left the flower girl. Or rather, flower grandmas, as we had asked Nonnas Bianchi and Rizoli to do the honors of spreading petals from my father and Serafina’s gardens.

“Of course! What else are big sisters for? And just so you know, once you’re settled in after all that honeymoon business, I’m gonna expect you to drag that big lunk of yours up to New York and come see some shows on Broadway with me. I know he’s gonna have so many opinions on the set design that I’ve gotta hear.”

“It’s a plan.”

She gave my arm a little squeeze, then kissed my cheek, her face full of affection. “Knock ’em dead!”

That left Amanda, our secondary photographer, and little old me. Since the photographer had told us to ignore her unless she had a specific request, I locked eyes with my best friend and let out a heady sigh. It was a moment that said a whole lot, much like how Keith and I could speak volumes without uttering a single word, but in the end, she just smiled and patted the makeup chair again.

Perhaps it was a bit unorthodox to have my maid of honor also be my makeup and hair artist, but there wasn’t anyone else I trusted with the job. While Rolando was the one who opened my eyes to the fact that I didn’t like how I was being treated by both myself and others, she was the one who had put me on the path of seeing Olivia for the beautiful and vibrant woman that was always waiting to be acknowledged.

“I can’t imagine how I could have done this without you,” I said once she was done with my mascara for what was probably the fourth time of the day.

“Luckily, you don’t have to, because I’m here and I always will be. I believe I’m what your generation calls a ride-or-die.”

I let out a dry chuckle. “Oh, my generation now, is it? Are you really making fun of me for being old on my wedding day?”

“Well,” she said cheekily. “Somebody has got to distract you from crying again. Look, girlie pop, I used all the waterproof makeup I had, but I tell you, there’s some super juice in these wolf tears of yours! Just so you know, I’m definitely going at your face again after the ceremony and before you take pictures.”

“A wise plan.”

“That’s why I made it!” She winked at me as she finished touching up my lips, then stood back, taking off her own protective apron to reveal the flattering, pale pink maid-of-honor dress I’d chosen for her. She looked absolutely stunning in it. I liked to think that even though it had only been a few days since her makeunder, she was all dolled up because she was genuinely enjoying being a part of my wedding, not because she felt like it was the price she had to pay to be accepted. “Now your turn!”

There went my own protective blankets, and then the loose, satin apron she’d also put on my front. Again, I was pretty sure it was overkill, but there wasn’t a single speck of discoloration on my dress.

My father had wanted a giant princess gown covered from head to toe in rhinestones, Auntie Tatiana thought that a pure silk dress with a train long enough to cover the entire length of the aisle would do the trick, and Uncle Luigi had been a huge proponent for lace and lots of lace. He was one of the few of my older male relatives who had an opinion at all, and while I was flattered by it, I didn’t quite see his vision.

But now, as I looked in the mirror, I knew that Amanda, my mother, Serafina, and I had all made the right choice when we’d gone dress shopping together. I was in a mermaid-cut dress with a sweetheart neckline, the color a cool white instead of the warmer options that had been presented to me. Although it was matte, there was depth to it, and it had lace underlays as well as old-fashioned buttons all the way up the back like the silk wedding dresses that many of my older aunties had favored in their time.

The top two-thirds of it was fitted to my body like a glove, emphasizing all those curves I had once been ashamed of, and the bottom flared out in an impressive trumpet shape that extended into a heavy train, supported by what felt like an entire nation’s worth of ruffled tulle and a unique crinoline I’d never seen before.

“What do you think?” Amanda asked tenderly. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen myself since I’d fought my way into the dress, but it was going to be the last time I saw myself before I was married to the love of my life. My last moment as a single woman and unwed daughter.