I laid my head on her shoulder. “I really hope so.”
We sat like that for a few moments, reminiscing about our girlhood wedding plans and how they compared to what we wanted as adults. By the time my mom’s voice summoned us to the dining room, we were laughing so hard we were practically crying.
“What’s with Mom having drinks before dinner?” I asked before we left the couch. “It’s not like this is a fancy party. We all know each other. Well, except for Alex.”
“She’s obsessed with BBC America. She’s determined to do the formal British thing tonight.”
“Please don’t tell me she’s making us dress for dinner.”
Mirabelle screwed up her lips. “You can thank me for that one. I talked her out of it.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” She grabbed my hand. “Come on. Don’t let her bother you. Remember,
