A Wedding In December. Sarah Morgan

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СКАЧАТЬ so I can assure you you’re going to be fine.

      Love was a feeling, and if Rosie had learned one thing during her time on the planet it was that feelings were unreliable. Hers certainly were. The fact that her life was filled with clothes she never wore, shoes too uncomfortable to walk in, and old boyfriends that she never called was proof of that.

      What if her love for Dan turned out to be as transient as her love for Rollerblading?

      Trying to pull herself together, she wriggled her way into the dress Catherine had chosen.

      Ivory silk and beautifully cut, it fell in a simple sheath and pooled on the floor.

      Rosie turned sideways and smoothed the fabric over her hips.

      The woman had taste, there was no doubt about that. The dress looked incredible. So incredible that her doubts retreated. It was a good omen.

      Nerves were natural, weren’t they?

      She tried to imagine her and Dan growing old together and Katie apologizing as she turned up to celebrate their golden wedding.

       Look at the two of you! I was so wrong.

      “Rosie?” There was another tap on the door. “Can we see you in it, honey?”

      Rosie took a last look at her ref lection and opened the door.

      Catherine gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh my—”

      The seamstress who had been standing ready to suggest alterations, gaped. “Oh my—”

      Rosie did the obligatory twirl, the aftereffects of the previous night’s champagne making her head spin. Note to self—hangover pirouettes are not a good idea.

      “You’re beautiful, honey.” Catherine’s eyes filled. “You can try on as many as you like, of course, but I honestly think this one is perfect. How about you? Are you having doubts?”

      Rosie looked at herself. The dress was gorgeous. Classic. Flattering.

       Definitely an omen.

      “I love it.” She wasn’t having doubts about the dress. She was having doubts about the wedding, and those doubts were multiplying in her head like a virus.

      Only last week he’d mentioned that he adored dogs and she’d thought I’m allergic to dogs. She hadn’t said anything. There were plenty of small things they hadn’t shared and it hadn’t bothered her at all, until now. Now it was just one example of something he didn’t know about her.

      Tense, Rosie stood as the seamstress fussed around her, checking the fit. “The waist needs to be taken in a little. You’re so slender. And December in Aspen is cold, so you might like to take a look at our range of faux fur wraps. Maybe a muff?” She stepped back and pressed her hand to her chest. “You’re going to be a beautiful bride. I do love a Christmas wedding. It always feels like a double celebration.”

       Christmas.

      When someone said that word, Rosie thought of Honeysuckle Cottage, the scent of cinnamon and pine, and her mother rustling up homemade treats from the kitchen. She thought about fleecy pajamas, mugs of steaming hot chocolate and long chats with her sister that went on until the early hours. There was always an enormous tree that smelled of the forest, decked with the usual decorations, all of which came with a story attached, and the annual gathering with the neighbors, when Mrs. Albert from next door always drank too much sherry and told stories of her time at Oxford during the war.

      The reality of it sank in.

      She’d planned on going home for Christmas, as she and Katie did every year. She’d already wrapped her gifts. Christmas was always spent at home with her family, and even though she’d lived away from home for four years, she’d been close enough to see her parents frequently. Honeysuckle Cottage still felt like home to Rosie. Student accommodation, however fun, couldn’t compare with her cozy bed in the attic room that had been hers since childhood. When she snuggled under the covers and stared up at the stars through the skylight, she felt more relaxed than she did anywhere else.

      Christmas Eve was her favorite time because her parents still insisted on making her a Christmas stocking and thanks to creaky floorboards she always heard them fiddling outside her bedroom in full Santa mode.

      She’d been looking forward to it, but now it wasn’t going to happen.

      There would be no devouring her dad’s scrambled eggs and smoked salmon for breakfast. No frosty walk on the village green, or lavish slices of her mother’s unbeatable fruitcake. No staggering home from the village pub singing carols, substituting the usual lyrics with something definitely not PG.

      She’d be spending Christmas in Aspen, with Dan’s family. In fact they’d be her family, because she’d be married by Christmas Day.

      Panic closed in on her. She and Dan hadn’t thought through the detail.

      Where were they going to live?

      Dan was an only child. Would he expect them to have Christmas in Colorado every year? It was yet another subject they hadn’t explored together. And what would Dan make of her home? He was tall. How would he handle Honeysuckle Cottage with its low ceilings and lethal beams? And then there was the blending of two families.

      Catherine had been so kind and welcoming, but she was always perfectly groomed and looking her best. Rosie didn’t feel comfortable mooching around in her pajamas, so she’d been up, fully dressed and made-up for breakfast each morning. And Catherine was such a superwoman. She was always on her phone, solving people’s wedding problems.

      Rosie thought about her own mother, and the hours they’d spent chatting at the kitchen table. Maggie worked, but work didn’t dominate her life in the way it did Catherine’s. Would she and Catherine even get along?

      Tension squirmed in her stomach.

      She’d been excited about her family flying over, but now she wasn’t so sure. What happened when two families didn’t blend, but collided?

      Was it going to be a happy family Christmas, or a recipe for disaster?

      She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself.

      If she needed evidence that a whirlwind romance could work, she had only to look at her parents. They’d married a few months after they’d met and were still happy together thirty-five years later. Take that, Katie!

      The more she thought about that one simple fact, the better she felt.

      Her parents’ marriage was strong and indestructible. They were rock solid. Why shouldn’t she and Dan be like them?

      Her parents were a shiny example of what a marriage should look like.

      She’d confess her worries to her mother, although she could already imagine what she’d say. Your father and I met and married in a whirlwind, too, and we’ve done fine together for more than thirty years.

      Feeling better, Rosie smiled.

      If anyone could put her СКАЧАТЬ