Save the Date

“Got it.” I craned my neck to see who had arrived and got a glimpse of a girl dressed all in black with a camera bag—and figured this was probably the photographer. Since I was not even close to being camera ready, I increased my pace up the stairs to the second floor and to my parents’ bedroom.

I closed the door just in case Rodney was going to be walking by, since the last thing I needed was blame for more things going wrong with this wedding. Then I unzipped the white satin garment bag and felt my breath catch as I pulled it out.

I’d seen pictures, of course, that Linnie had sent of her in the dress at various fittings. But somehow, none of the pictures had done the dress justice.

It was long, and white—not a bright-white, though, more like there was some gray mixed in with it, somehow, like a pale pebble. It had an open back, and beading on the V-neck and on the straps. I looked at it, fighting the feeling that I was about to burst into tears. I’d known Linnie was getting married—obviously, I’d known it. It was all I’d been thinking about for the last few days, and it had been one of the main topics of conversation ever since she and Rodney got engaged. But somehow, seeing her wedding dress made it all that much more real. And considering I was about to start crying just looking at the dress, I wasn’t sure how I was going keep it together when I actually saw my sister in it, walking down the aisle toward Rodney.

I took a breath and tried to pull myself together. I had a lot to do—and I probably didn’t have time to be getting misty over dresses. I looked around for a place to put it. My parents’ room was the biggest one on this floor—with a king bed, attached master bath, my mom’s closets on one side of the room, my dad’s on the other. There was a daybed in the corner of their room that was mostly just decorative—but as I looked at it now, I realized that someone could have stayed there, in a pinch. Not one of the guests, of course, but I certainly could have, or J.J. . . . I’d forgotten about it, and as I looked at it now, I wondered why my mother hadn’t suggested it when we were looking for room options. And it looked like it was even made up, which it almost never was, so it would have been totally ready for someone—like me—to stay there.

I shook my head at this, then heard the doorbell ring again downstairs and realized that I needed to get moving. I didn’t just want to just cram the dress into my mother’s closet, next to her suits in their dry-cleaner’s plastic and her sensible black pressed pants. This was the most beautiful dress I’d ever seen in person, and it felt like it deserved better than that. After looking around, I carefully laid it over the daybed, arranging the skirt so that it was lying flat and hopefully wouldn’t wrinkle at all. I looked at it for just one more moment, gently touching the fabric of the skirt, before leaving the room, pulling the door firmly shut behind me.

I took the suit in its garment bag with me and headed out onto the landing—nearly tripping over Waffles, who was sitting, perfectly still, outside the door of my dad’s study, like he was waiting for someone on the other side of the door. As I looked at him, I wondered just what kind of dog had come to stay with us for the weekend. Was this a former police dog, or something? Could he smell what Max was undoubtedly up to inside?

“Come here,” I said to him. Waffles just looked at me, but then turned back to the door, now growling low at it.

“Charlie?” Max called through the door, sounding panicked. “Is that you? Is the dog still there?”

“Yeah,” I said, walking over to the dog, not sure I really wanted to pick up a growling beagle. But he stopped as I got closer, and didn’t protest when I picked him up. He was lighter than I’d expected him to be, and curled up a little in my arms, leaning his head against my chest. I gave the top of his head a tentative pat. “I’ve got him, Max.”

“Okay,” Max yelled through the door. “I’ll just—ow—I’ll just stay here. Bye-bye now.”

“Okay,” I said. I was about to tell Max that we’d found someone to perform the ceremony, when Waffles started growling at the door again, and it seemed like the best course of action might be to separate them.

I headed downstairs, the dog now resting comfortably in the crook of my arm, apparently enjoying being along for the ride. When I arrived in the front hall, it was to see people coming through the front door, three burly guys, all of them carrying cables and what looked like black metal suitcases. “Hi,” I said to one of them, a question in my voice, even though they didn’t seem to need any direction.

“Hey,” the one bringing up the end said matter-of-factly as they continued through to the kitchen just as Rodney came out of it.

“Who are they?” I asked.

“They’re rigging the electrical in the tent,” Rodney said. “Did you meet the videographer yet?”

“No,” I said, starting to feel my pulse speed up. “Why is everyone here so early?”

“They’re not that early,” Rodney said. “Plus, they want to capture everyone getting ready, getting dressed, that kind of thing.” He looked from the dog in my right arm to the suit over my left. “Can I have my suit now?”

“Right.” I took a breath, then realized I really didn’t want to do this alone, and that I needed more backup than just Waffles. “Um, just give me a minute.”

* * *

“What is going on?” Linnie asked five minutes later. We were in the family room—Linnie and Rodney on one couch, me, Danny, and Max on the other, and Mike slumped in the armchair in the corner. I’d corralled Danny into joining us, mostly so that I could have someone on my side, and I’d dragged Mike in here because I thought that Linnie and Rodney might not yell quite as loud if they were in the presence of our very hungover brother. Waffles was also there, though he wasn’t really helping things—he’d jump onto the couch, curl up in my lap, and be peaceful for a moment or two, but that was as long as it would last. Soon, he’d be up, running around the room, looking at the ceiling like he’d been doing this morning, and growling up at it.

“Okay,” I said, realizing that there was nothing to do but get it over with—everyone had too much to do to sit here for very long. “So, here’s the thing. We found someone to marry you.”

“What do you mean?” Linnie asked, looking at Max. She sneezed three times in succession, then shot all of us a look, like she was daring us to say anything about it. “Isn’t Max marrying us?”

“Wait, who’s we?” Danny asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Me and Bill,” I said, then felt my face get hot as Danny shot me a look.

“Well, well, well.”

“No,” I said. “No wells. It’s his job. And I’m helping.”

“Sure,” Danny said, giving me a wink.

“Why isn’t Max marrying us?” Rodney asked.

I took a breath to answer as Waffles launched himself off the couch and ran across the room, looking straight up at the ceiling, a low, continuous growl sounding like it was coming from the back of his throat. “Waffles,” I said, a little half-heartedly, since I was pretty sure the dog didn’t know this was his name.

“What’s wrong with the dog?” Danny asked.

“I think it might be a ghost,” I said, shaking my head. “Anyway . . .”

“Are you still talking about the ghost?” J.J. asked, appearing in the doorway of the family room, still holding his bow tie.

“Yeah,” I said, pointing at Waffles. “Look at him. What else could it be?”

“If it’s a ghost, why hasn’t it shown up before now?” Danny asked.

J.J. thought about this for a moment. “It’s a ghost that hates weddings.”

“Did my mom give you the sewing kit?” Rodney asked, and J.J. nodded.

“She did.” He looked around the room. “Now. Does anyone know how to sew?”

“Guys,” Mike said, rubbing his temples, “do I really need to be here for this?”

“Yes,” I said immediately. I looked at Linnie and Rodney. “And I think we should be aware of Mike’s condition and not, you know, yell or throw anything.”