“Yellow. Why in the hell did she pick yellow?”
My usually effortly goregous sister did a quick spin around–and I chuckled. She looked jauniced. And I took a sick little pleasure in that. It’s hard to constantly be over shined by your younger sister. “I have never been happier to not be picked as a bridesmaid in my entire life.” I muttered apparently not enough under my breath.
Gracie turned and scowled at me. “What does she have you wearing?”
I shrugged, trying to keep the smug smile from creeping on to my face. “She said I can wear whatever I want, as long as it’s not white, or off-white, or eggshell, or any other slight variation of white.”
Gracie glared at me. “So you’re going to wear red, look amazing, and I’m going to look like I need to go back to dialysis before the reception is over.” Gracie turned to look at herself in the mirror again. “How come you get to walk her down the aisle?I’m her cousin too.”
“Because I’m older and I paid for her to go to college. I get to be the maternal figure and you get to be the Maid of Honor.” I answered, even though I knew Gracie didn’t actually care.
Gracie just eyed herself in the mirror a bit longer. “Why did she have to pick yellow?”