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scenario: We date for a month, I fall for him, then I’m crushed when he’s bored and moves on to the next girl?” My heart ached at the mere thought. “You have to agree that is his pattern.”
    Rach twisted her mouth to the side. “He was with Cyndi over a month, I think.”
    Now she was reaching. “Two months then. Whatever. I want more than he has to offer. You should understand where I’m coming from. Don’t you want to get married and have kids one day?”
    “Yes.” She crossed her legs and withdrew her cell again. “Unfortunately, I can’t find a man who won’t sleep with my hairdresser.”
    “Ugh.” I groaned. Rachel’s ex was such a louse. “At least George never stooped that low.”
    “How low?” Ellen reappeared with Kathia and they began attacking the gown again. “What are we talking about?”
    “Cheating.” I peeked at the time. “Ellen, the dress looks great and, I hate to say this, but I have somewhere to be.”
    “We’re almost done.” She crouched down to where the hem swept the floor, pointed to a spot near the slit, and Kathia went at it. Ellen gazed up at me, concern in her eyes. “Who’s cheating on who?”
    “Jeremy,” I said. “Old news.”
    Rachel sighed. “Can we make it a rule to never again bring up the J word?”
    “Deal.” I couldn’t help wondering if Chris had overlapped any of the girls he’d dated. “Rach? Do you have Chris’s number in your phone?”
    She gave me a weird look. “Why would I have his number?”
    Her defensive tone made me wonder. “Calm down. I just need to tell him not to pick me up at my house. He’s supposed to be there in eight minutes and you know . . .”
    I gestured toward the ladies crouching down at my already well-fitted dress.
    “I believe we have it.” Kathia spoke through a mouthful of pins. “What do you think, Ellen?”
    We all gazed in the center mirror at the striking, red, strapless number and held our breaths, waiting for the bride’s decision. With the (many) pins, it flowed over my curves without a single wrinkle, crinkle, or flaw. The dress looked amazing. Well, according to me anyway. We’d have to hear the boss’s conclusion.
    Ellen’s expression was unreadable. I fought not to bounce on my heels as the minutes ticked by and I sensed the very real possibility that we’d be spending all night tailoring this gown.
    She skirted around the dress, eyeing every inch up and down. Finally, her gaze flew to Kathia, to Rachel, then landed on me. Her face broke with emotion and she put both hands to her cheeks as tears filled her eyes. “It’s just perfect. B-Beautiful.”
    I let out a whoosh, ready to un-zip out of this thing. “Thank goodness.”
    Instead of letting me skidaddle, Ellen pulled me into a crushing bear-hug and refused to let go. She let out a sob. “Oh, Gina.”
    I pulled back, pushing her dirty-blonde locks away from her face, trying to gauge what was going on. “Are you okay?”
    She nodded, tears streaming down her face. “I-I think it just finally hit me. I’m getting married in four days.”
    Witnessing her tears of joy, my throat suddenly tightened and my own eyes watered. “You’re supposed to be smiling. You and Henry will have the world’s most perfectly organized wedding.”
    A grin broke across her face, then she leaned in for another hug.
    I held my friend and savored the moment. “I know you guys will live happily ever after. With a very nice tan from your honeymoon, to boot.”
    Her shoulders bobbed as she chuckled.
    “Well, I have to get in on this.” Rach threw down her handbag, hurried over, then draped her arms around us and started sniffling. “Kristen’s going to be jealous she missed out.”
    She probably would. Because it felt like one of those moments that come out of nowhere, but we remember forever. Not at the bridal shower. Not at the wedding. But in a bridal boutique’s dressing room where a fastidious seamstress watched on with misty eyes.
    ****
    After I