Page 2 of Theirs to Treasure
“She’ll be perfect when I’m done,” the makeup artist reassures her, looking up from his phone. I’m grateful for his response. It’s saved me from getting into an argument about how much sleep I’m getting and if I’m taking proper care of my skin so I don’t get premature wrinkles.
As if I don’t have other things that concern me.
“I will not have her matching the color of her gown,” she informs the man. “She looks ghastly.”
Though I wince, he picks up his glass, completely ignoring her. I wish I had that kind of confidence.
“I’ve looked again. It’s not here!” Caroline insists.
My mother turns to her youngest child. “Whatever is the matter?”
“Edward’s ring is gone!” Desperation makes her choke. “I’ve lookedeverywhere.”
“Honestly, Caroline!” Gwendolyn snaps as she rushes to sift through the dozens of items, including cosmetics, nail files, tweezers, even a small silver flask with God knows what inside. “You’d lose your own head if you could.”
Tears fill her eyes.
The last thing I need is for our mother’s scolding to cause Caro to have a breakdown.
“I’ll, err, be over here,” my hair stylist says as she wanders away to join the makeup artist.
“Could it be somewhere else?” I stand to help the search, and the tie holding my robe together comes apart.
While knotting it tightly around my waist once more, I walk across the room to join the search. My high, strappy sandals looked great in the store, but they’re murder to walk in.
Thank goodness I have a second gown with much more comfortable shoes for this evening’s reception.
“Didn’t you have a backpack?” I ask Caroline. Not that I can be sure. After all, we’d needed a bellhop to help us with our enormous number of belongings: my gorgeous veil and sparkling headpiece, our dresses, curling irons, safety pins, sewing kits, makeup, snacks, anything we could need in an emergency—including an extra bottle of prosecco, just in case.
“Yes! I do.” She bites her lower lip. “Somewhere.”
We all look, and she finally finds the small, silver bag buried beneath a settee.
As my mother shakes her head, I watch in anticipation while Caroline empties out the contents of that bag.
As she frantically digs through the pile of stuff, I pick up the backpack and open all the zippers to double check the compartments.
Within half a minute, we all recognize the awful truth.
The ring is missing.
“It must have fallen out in our room.” A tear escaping to trace a line down her cheek, she looks at me. “I’m so sorry. I’ll run back and have a look.”
“Be quick,” my mother warns. “Your hair is a disaster, and I will not allow you to embarrass your sister.”
With the enormous size of this resort, hurrying will not be an easy task.
Fortunately, I reassure myself, we have plenty of time left.
After Caroline escapes, my mother turns her furious gaze on me, as if I’m personally to blame for my sister’s failure, which, arguably, I am for trusting her. “This wedding must be perfect.”
“Of course, Mother.” The weight of the family fortune is on my shoulders, and she’s been absolutely certain I knew that.
“I need to see if any of our guests have started to arrive.”
Though it’s still early, my heart picks up a couple of beats as reality slips closer.
With a quick knock on the door, my wedding planner pops her head inside and smiled. “Marcella would like some final mother/daughter photos about forty minutes before the ceremony, when your hair and makeup is complete. That will give her some time for the shots but allow for last-minute prep and for you all to make your way to the chapel. Will that work?”