Page 2

Two

A few weeks later, after Valentine’s Day, Arthur and Francine broke my concentration while I was doing my biology homework and eating leftover chocolate by barking, barking, barking like the guard dogs Dad encouraged them to be.

He was currently grabbing coffee with prospective clients while Da had gone for a run on the canal.

I was home alone, the dinner hour creeping closer.

“Relax!” I called to the dogs, seeing a brown van slow to a stop in the driveway.

“It’s UPS!”

I waved to the deliveryman through the window, not wanting to risk Arthur barreling through the front door if I opened it.

He loved launching himself into delivery trucks, and it always took forever to get him out.

There were three packages.

The first was Banana Republic (Dad), the second new sneakers from Allbirds (Da), and the third was for me .

I hadn’t ordered anything recently, but my name was written in metallic Sharpie on the box.

And goddammit, it was spelled wrong, too.

Madeleine , not Madeline .

I didn’t need to look at the return address to know who the sender was.

Only one person, even after half a decade, thought my name was spelled like that.

Crap . My breathing grew shallow as I searched for something to open the box with.

Crappity, crap, crap, crap!

What was happening? Austin had told me; he’d told me she wasn’t going to ask.

I grabbed my car keys off their brass hook in the mudroom, then waited until my hands stopped trembling—I could never be a surgeon or a dentist—to slice open the box’s lid.

I didn’t choose the bridesmaid life , I thought to myself, but as soon as I pulled back the key-mangled box’s flaps and saw the tufts of Tiffany-blue tissue paper, sprinkled shiny gold confetti, and cutesy note, I knew the bridesmaid life had chosen me.

Katie had chosen me.

It appeared she was a stickler for tradition, after all.

“Look at this!” I squeaked when Da got home from his run.

“Da, just look!”

I unpacked everything for him; first, a mini bottle of prosecco with a gold-and-white-striped paper straw attached with a gold ribbon.

“How did UPS overlook that?” Da joked.

“You can’t ship alcohol.”

I ignored him to present the gifts—an abundance of gifts.

There was a silky blue sleeping mask that had SOMETHING BLUE CREW stitched across the eyes in white cursive letters, along with a quartz face roller and a candle whose sandalwood scent was actually SMELLS LIKE YOU’RE A brIDESMAID.

I’d also received a small gold compact mirror engraved with delicate flowers and my name—pardon, Madeleine ’s name—and a stylish gold bangle that twisted in the center.

Its cute little card read: I COULDN’T TIE THE KNOT WITHOUT YOU!

“Well, it looks like Katie is a top shopper on Etsy,” Dad said after I’d shown him later that night.

He pointed to the bracelet.

“This is nice.”

“Yeah, it’s really pretty.” I sighed.

“But I don’t want to be a bridesmaid. Austin straight up said Katie wasn’t going to ask me.”

My parents exchanged a look.

“When did he say this?” Dad asked.

“When they got back from France last month.”

“She must’ve had a change of heart,” Da said after a moment, and this time, it was Dad and I who shared a look.

Katie? A change of heart?

She always seemed to have her mind made up, even if she rarely shared it.

“Thinking more about it might have made her realize that including you would make the day more special.”

“Okay, sure,” I said, “but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want to be included. Can I say, Thanks but no thanks? I bet she has plenty of backups.”

“No, you cannot, Madeline,” Da said, his tone surprisingly firm.

“This is Austin’s wedding.”

“What happened to rushing into things?” I asked.

“Last year, when he told you he planned to propose to Katie, you guys said he might be jumping the gun.”

Austin and Katie had been together five years, yes, but the first four had been entirely long distance.

How did they know they were each other’s perfect match?

Shouldn’t they live together for a while to really find out?

My parents were quiet for a moment.

“Top of the stairs?” Dad asked lightly.

By way of an answer, I felt myself flush.

They knew my go-to eavesdropping spot.

“Your brother is an adult, Madeline,” Da said.

“He can make his own decisions.”

“And remember how many times you watched that proposal video?” Dad asked.

“Over and over again, because we weren’t in Paris to see it for ourselves?”

I sighed; they weren’t wrong .

And Austin knew how bummed I’d been.

I’m sorry , he’d texted me after doing the dishes last month.

I don’t know why I didn’t tell you guys.

I know you would’ve gotten on a plane.

We would’ve , I’d replied.

Provided aisle seats were available .

Then I’d sent a hug emoji.

“You’ll regret it,” Da now said.

“If you say no to Katie, Mads, you’ll miss out on what will probably be a lot of fun. Not to mention, damage your relationship with her.”

“We barely have a relationship!” I exclaimed.

“This will be the perfect opportunity to develop one,” Dad pointed out.

He gave me an encouraging smile.

“Excellent parenting,” Da whispered to him.

“Thanks, hon,” Dad whispered back.

“I try.”

“I can hear you,” I deadpanned.

Da chuckled. “Call Katie—”

“I am not calling Katie.” I cut him off, extremely self-aware that I was being a total brat.

“Then text Katie,” Dad said.

“Accept her offer.”

“You sound like a Realtor,” I mumbled before asking him for Katie’s phone number.

Because why would I ever have needed it before now?

Did Katie even have my number?

Hi, this is Mads! I texted after much contemplation.

I got your package and would LOVE to be your bridesmaid, Katie!

I’m really honored. 3

She didn’t respond for several hours, and when she finally did, the message read: Great! More details soon.