Down the Aisle by Christine Bell

the coffee table and handing it to Lacey.
    “Now I don’t know. I haven’t told your brother yet. I want to wait until after the honeymoon.” She dabbed at her eyes and forced a smile. “He’s going to say he’s fine because he won’t want me to feel worse, but it’s weighing on him, too, all this stuff.”
    Cat nodded. “I get that, and I don’t blame you for wanting to keep it quiet for a few more days, but don’t wait too long.”
    “I won’t. I just want him to enjoy this week without worrying about me.”
    “Okay.” Cat gave her a reassuring smile. “Now let’s get this show on the road. Fifteen minutes.” Cat hit her with one last blast of hairspray and slid the sheer veil over her face. “Yep. Perfect.”
    The two stood back and admired their handiwork, and Cat motioned for Lacey to spin in a circle. She must have passed muster because her friend’s eyes filled with tears.
    “Lace, seriously, you look—”
    A sharp knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” Lacey called.
    “Unless you’re Galen,” Cat yelled, dashing her hand across her eyes.
    The door swung open and The Admiral swept into the room. She looked fabulous. Her white-blonde hair was in a looser coif than the one she usually wore, and her ultra-slim, ramrod straight frame was accentuated by a fitted cream-colored suit that fit her like it had been sewn on by a team of captive birds. Too bad her face was far more wicked-stepsister than Cinderella.
    “Mary Catherine, give me a moment alone with my daughter.”
    Rowena didn’t wait for a response in spite of the fact that they were in Cat’s parents’ house and she was the one intruding. She just crossed the room and stood next to her daughter, waiting for her friend to leave. Cat’s face went flush, but she nodded and pasted on a smile that was more a baring of teeth. “Absolutely, ma’am.”
    Lacey gave her a grateful smile. “I’ll be out in a few minutes. Can you make sure Uncle Roscoe didn’t start eating the wedding cake?”
    “Yeah, sure thing,” Cat said, and headed out.
    “You look very nice today,” her mother said stiffly.
    High praise. It was a shock she managed to hold in her tears at this Hallmark moment. “Thanks, Mother.”
    “I wanted to speak with you about something, if you’ll permit me a minute or two.”
    Her wedding was scheduled to start down on the dock by the lake in fifteen minutes, but since her mother had made the effort, she wasn’t about to cut her off.
    “Sure, what is it?”
    “I just wanted you to know that…” She twisted her hands together in a nervous gesture that almost made Lacey feel sorry for her. She’d never seen her mother so ill at ease. Scratch that. She was never at ease. She was typically locked up tighter than Fort Knox, but she looked so anxious and out of her element. “I know I was never good at it. I’m fully aware of that, you know.”
    “What are we talking about here, Mother?” Lacey asked carefully. She gently took Rowena’s arm and led her to a small velvet settee in the corner, where she sank down gracefully and crossed her legs. Lacey pushed the bulky dress to one side and sat across from her.
    “Parenting. Motherhood. I sucked at it.” She let out a short, bitter laugh. “I remember the day I brought you home. You cried, and I gave you a bottle of formula. Once you finished eating, I burped you. Would you believe that was what I was good at? You let out a belch that shook the walls.” Her steely gray eyes shimmered with tears and Lacey felt the same filling her own. Her mother. The Admiral. Crying?
    “My first thought was, ‘Look at me. A natural. I’m succeeding at this, like I do at everything else.’ And then you started to scream.” Her lip curled in distaste, and Lacey’s tears dried. “You squalled for three straight months, and I swear, I thought I would go crazy. Your father took over, and he was so good at it. He never got angry or upset. He just walked you around in circles, for