How to Make a Wedding: Twelve Love Stories

After a few more goofy dance moves, they returned to the table, where Sienna made a toast to the bride to be. I found the whole thing rather endearing. Maybe I’d been wrong about her. She’d waited till the eleventh hour to come through for my sister, but Crystal seemed deliriously happy, and that was all that mattered to me.

By eleven o’clock we had all fizzled out. Crystal and I said our good-byes to the other girls and headed home. I dozed off just minutes after my head hit the pillow.

The following morning I awoke, raring to go. Just before my feet hit the floor, however, I paused to pray. This was the most important day in my sister’s life and I wanted to start it off right. A few minutes later I found Crystal in the kitchen, at the table with Mama and Grandma Nellie. All three of them were drinking coffee. I poured a cup and joined them.

“I can’t believe it.” Crystal’s voice trembled as she looked from person to person.

“What, honey?” Mama asked.

“This is going to be the last time we all sit here together at the breakfast table. It’s just . . . bittersweet.” A few tears trickled down her cheeks.

Mama and Grandma both started crying at this point. Oh boy. What a mess. Seconds later, tears stung my eyes, but I brushed them away before my sister could see them.

We sat until we’d each finished a second cup, laughing and talking over old times. Dad joined us moments later, still dressed in his boxers and undershirt. No doubt Crystal wouldn’t miss this part of our morning routine.

By the time the clock chimed nine, however, we realized the party had to come to an end. Though the wedding wasn’t scheduled to begin until two, the bridesmaids would meet at the church at eleven to begin the process of fixing hair and putting on makeup. I could hardly wait.



After showering and dressing in capris and a button-down shirt, Crystal made a phone call to her wedding coordinator to check on the progress in the sanctuary and at the country club. From what I could gather, Mrs. Frazier seemed a bit discombobulated but still confident the day would come off without a hitch.

I helped my sister pack her car with everything we would need—my dress and her gown, shoes, hair clips, jewelry, and the biggest makeup bag in the history of weddings. With Crystal’s nerves a jumbled mess, I offered to drive. She nodded and climbed into the passenger seat.

Her cell phone rang just as we pulled into the church’s parking lot.

“It’s Sienna.”

“Ah.” I didn’t want to speculate, so I kept my mouth shut.

A couple of minutes later, however, I didn’t have to speculate.

Crystal ended the call and shoved the phone into her purse. “I don’t believe it.”

“What?”

“She’s getting her hair done.”

“But I thought we were doing that here. Helping each other, I mean.”

“Right?” My sister shook her head. “She said she didn’t trust the girls to get her hair right, so she’s paying top dollar to have it done at The Strand.”

“The Strand?” I couldn’t help but gasp. Who could afford to have their hair done at The Strand? Maybe folks like Mrs. Havenhurst, but not girls like Sienna, who worked at the tanning salon for minimal pay.



“Apparently Sienna’s had the appointment all along. She never planned to be with me on my wedding day. She said she’s been saving for weeks. Can you believe that?”

“Wow.” We spoke the word in unison.

My sister opened her car door and stepped out. “Don’t. Even. Get. Me. Started.”

“O-okay.” I plastered on a smile and climbed out of the car. The other bridesmaids greeted us seconds later. We worked in tandem to carry all our gear into the church, where we quickly set up camp in the small bride’s room. Mrs. Frazier had placed a full-length mirror in the corner. It would come in handy later, once we put on our gowns, but for now we headed to the ladies’ room to work on hair and makeup. At noon, Mama and Grandma Nellie appeared with a tray of meats and cheeses from a local deli.

“Eat.” My grandmother pulled the lid off the tray. “And don’t forget to drink plenty of water. We don’t need any of you fainting at the altar.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I gave her the same little salute Derrick always gave me, then giggled.

After a few bites, we got distracted with the bride’s hair and makeup. She looked like a cover model, a true princess.

By twelve thirty the rest of us had every hair in place and had turned our attention to makeup. With the photographer snapping pictures at every turn, I found myself making quite a production out of the wedding prep process. What fun!

Of course, we were still missing the maid of honor. She was noticeably absent from every photo. Ugh. When twelve forty-five rolled around and Sienna still hadn’t arrived, I found my anger mounting. I headed out to the hallway to use my cell phone to call her. I stumbled into Derrick, who was walking down the hall, tuxedo bag slung over his shoulder. He let out a whistle as he saw me.

“Wow. Mari, you look gorgeous.”

Rachel Hauck & Robin Lee Hatcher & Katie Ganshert & Becky Wade & Betsy St. Amant & Cindy Kirk & Cheryl Wyatt & Ruth Logan Herne & Amy Matayo & Janice Thompson & Melissa McClone & Kathryn Springer's books