A Wedding in December

by Sarah Morgan

  Maybe there were incidents in his childhood that might offer up clues as to his character.

  “Parents always talk about what makes them proud of their children,” she said. “They rarely talk about the things that embarrassed them. Did my mother mention the time she was called into school because Rosie had freed the school rabbit from its life of incarceration?”

  Catherine laughed. “That is so like Rosie.”

  “It wasn’t only me.” Rosie gathered up her hair and studied herself in the mirror. “There was that time Mum had to go to school because you’d been accused of cheating in an exam. You denied it, and there was this huge bust-up. You yelled at the teacher for calling you a liar. They said you needed to learn respect, as well as not to cheat.”

  “I remember that. I’ve never been good at dealing with injustice.”

  “Mum was called in,” Rosie told Catherine. “They wanted Dad, too, but he was on a dig in Egypt.”

  Katie shrugged. “Dad never dealt with that kind of thing anyway. He left it to our mother.”

  “Yes, and she asked to see the paper, and then she said did it not occur to you that my daughter might have known the answers? The teacher told her it wasn’t possible to get a perfect mark, so Mum asked her to give you another exam and you got a perfect mark in that, too.” Rosie beamed at her. “She always knew you were super smart, and she made sure everyone else knew it, too. You’d told her you wanted to be a doctor, and she wanted to do everything she could to support that and make sure you reached your full potential.”

  And now Katie was considering throwing it all away. All the work. All the training. The thing she’d spent a third of her life doing.

  She was going to be a disappointment to her whole family, especially her mother.

  She really ought to talk to them, but she had no idea where to start. Hi, Mum, you know how proud you feel when you tell people your daughter is a doctor? Well, you’re going to have to start telling them your daughter gave up being a doctor. Sorry.

  No, that wasn’t going to work. And if this wedding was going ahead, she didn’t want to be the one to kill the atmosphere by talking about her own issues.

  “How about Dan?” Katie turned slowly as the seamstress checked the hem. Her nerves were so frazzled she half expected them to be poking out through the dress. “Did he ever embarrass you?”

  “No, but he gave me a few white hairs. I guess that’s what little boys do to their mamas.” Catherine stood back and narrowed her eyes. “I wonder—maybe a flower in your hair?”

  “He was naughty?”

  “More adventurous than naughty. As a toddler there wasn’t a surface too high for him to climb onto, and as a teenager there wasn’t a slope too steep for him to ski. And he was stubborn. When there was something he wanted, nothing was going to stand in his way. That boy could wear down rock.”

  Was that it? Had Dan’s determination to get what he wanted put pressure on Rosie? Rosie hated confrontation. She might find it hard to speak up in that situation.

  Rosie was focused on the dress Katie was wearing. “Is the color okay? Is it what you imagined? I’ve been scared you might not like it.”

  “I love it.” The dress was a pale, silvery gray that shimmered in the light. It was understated and elegant, and something that Katie would have chosen herself if she’d ever had the need for such a thing. It wasn’t the dress that worried her. What worried her was the fact that the wedding was now only four days away and she still wasn’t convinced Rosie wasn’t making a huge mistake.

  Was her judgment off? It wouldn’t be the first time, but the fact that her sister kept using their parents as evidence that a whirlwind relationship could sustain in the long term, concerned her. You only needed evidence if you were trying to prove something. You only needed to prove something if you doubted it.

  She shouldn’t need evidence, should she? She should know. And if Rosie was so excited about getting married, why did she seem so tense? It couldn’t be workload, because Catherine seemed to be doing all the work. And that was another thing that bothered Katie. Rosie was a romantic. She’d played weddings with her dolls. She’d made bouquets with daisies from the garden. Surely she should want more say on the detail of her own special day?

  “The sparkle lifts it, I think.” Catherine was focused on the dress again, making notes on her phone and adding a few recommendations of her own. “Instead of the silk wrap, try it with the faux fur. It will be warmer.”

  Without thinking, Katie shrugged off the silk and heard Rosie gasp.

  “What happened to your shoulder?”

  She’d been so preoccupied with weddings, she’d forgotten about her shoulder. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing? Katie, you have a huge scar. You’ve hurt yourself.”

  “I fell, that’s all and it’s healing well.” Katie grabbed the fur wrap from Catherine with a quick smile of thanks. “No need for drama.”

  But of course Rosie wasn’t going to let it go that easily. “Fell how? Where?”

  “Through a glass door. Silly me. Forget it, it’s embarrassing. I love this fur.” She turned sideways and looked at her reflection in the mirrored walls of the store. “It’s warm and it has a certain glamour, don’t you think?”

  Rosie wasn’t looking at the fur. “Why would you fall through a glass door?”

  “I lost my balance. I was wearing heels. You know what I’m like in heels. Lethal.”

  “No, I don’t know.” Rosie was frowning. “I’ve never known you struggle in heels. And I’ve never known you lose your balance. It doesn’t seem like you.”

  “I was tired after a long shift.”

  “So why were you wearing heels? Were you on a date?”

  Katie bit back a hysterical laugh. “Not exactly. Can we stop talking about this? It wasn’t my finest moment.” It was probably the first truthful statement she’d made about that night. “This fur is great, I think, don’t you, Catherine?”

  “I like it.” Catherine gave her a long, steady look and then smiled. “We need to decide what to do with your hair. Your cut is—unusual.”

  Katie fiddled with the ends, grateful that Catherine was supporting the change of subject. “That’s because I used the kitchen scissors.” She saw Dan’s mother physically flinch. “I know. It’s a crime, but there you go. It was getting on my nerves and I didn’t have time to get to the salon. The scissors were clean, I promise.”

  To her credit, Catherine recovered quickly. “I suppose we should be grateful it wasn’t a scalpel, and it’s nothing that our stylist at the lodge can’t sort out. I’ll call her right now and she can fit you in this afternoon. I thought maybe a loose updo for the wedding.” She gathered up Katie’s kitchen-scissored hair and twisted it gently. “Something subtle and pretty. Rosie, show your sister your dress.”

  Katie wondered if Rosie found it strange to be trying on dresses without their mother there. And how did their mother feel about it?

  Apparently her parents had an alternate engagement doing something romantic.

  Rosie vanished and reappeared with a flourish, wearing her wedding dress.

  Katie felt a thickening in her throat, a surge of emotion that blocked speech. Love. It had filled her heart from the first moment her mother had carefully put her newborn sister into her arms. Be careful. Support her head. Don’t drop her. She’d grown up understanding that love brought with it anxiety. She’d seen it in her mother’s face during her sister’s first asthma attack, and again every time her sister started to wheeze. She’d seen a lot of things in her time working in emergency medicine, but there wasn’t much that was more frightening than not being able to pull air into your lungs. She’d watched her mother closely, noticing how she stayed calm even when she didn’t feel calm. Katie had copied that, not knowing then that it was a skill she would use time and time again in the future with frightened pat
ients and scared relatives. She’d sat quietly by Rosie’s bed, forgotten and ignored, not understanding the medical terms but having no trouble understanding the grave expressions of the medical team. There had been times when her body hadn’t felt big enough to contain all the love she felt for her sister. She hadn’t only felt the weight of that fragile bundle in her hands, she’d felt it in her heart.

  Was this why she found it so hard to have a lasting relationship with someone?

  Subconsciously had she held back from experiencing that intense, terrifying depth of feeling?

  She moved through life with such purpose, she rarely stopped to reflect.

  Had she, somewhere along the way, rejected love?

  Maybe not love, but vulnerability. She’d rejected vulnerability. She witnessed it constantly in her work. The fear in the face of a relative, the panic in the face of a patient who felt life sliding out of control.

  Her experiences in her job had reinforced those same feelings of helplessness she’d experienced as a young child and she’d unconsciously wrapped her heart in layers of protection so that she felt the blows less.

  She didn’t like feeling vulnerable, but she felt it now as she looked at her sister.

  “Wow, you look—” she swallowed “—you look gorgeous. The dress is gorgeous.”

  “I love it, too.” Rosie did a twirl, ivory silk catching the light, her hair sliding over her shoulders in shiny waves.

  Catherine narrowed her eyes. “When I see you with your hair loose like that it makes me wonder if you should wear it that way. It’s more you than a structured updo, isn’t it? What do you think, Katie?”

  “She prefers to wear it down.” She thought of all the times she’d done her sister’s hair before school. Braids. Ponytails. She’d learned them all.

  Catherine twisted a strand of Rosie’s hair around her fingers, visualizing the options. “We’re keeping the flowers simple. Locally foraged foliage, white orchids. Maybe it would work with flowers in your hair.”

  “I like the sound of that. I forgot to tell you, Katie.” Rosie turned to her sister. “We’re going to have a hot chocolate bar, for guests who need to warm up.”

  She had to pull herself together.

  “That’s where you’ll find me. There, or next to the champagne. Catherine, would you take a photo of both of us so that I can send it to our mother?”

  Catherine took the photo and Katie stood still as the woman made a final adjustment to the hem of her dress.

  Finally they were done, and she and Rosie picked their way through fresh snow to the car while Catherine lingered to discuss final details. Rosie slipped her arm through Katie’s.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “Does what hurt?”

  Rosie gave a growl of frustration and unlocked the car. “There are times when I could strangle you.”

  Katie stared at her. “What?”

  Rosie climbed into the car and Katie followed.

  The car provided sanctuary from the cold, but not from her sister.

  Rosie pulled off her gloves and blew on her hands. “It hurts my feelings, Katie. I tell you pretty much everything, and it hurts me that you don’t feel able to confide in me. Don’t,” she said quickly as Katie opened her mouth, “don’t tell me there’s nothing to talk about or I really will have to strangle you. The truth is you don’t see me as an equal, do you?”

  Katie was shocked into silence. Rosie hated confrontation. She’d do virtually anything to avoid it.

  “I have no idea what you mean.”

  “You don’t treat me like a sister or a friend, you mother me. You’ve always mothered me.”

  Be careful. Support her head. Don’t drop her.

  “I’m protective, that’s true.”

  “I feel protective of you, too, but there’s a big difference between being protective and being motherly. It’s natural to hide things from our parents, everyone does that, it’s part of growing up and obviously we don’t want to freak them out with tales of real life, but it’s not natural to hide from a sister. We should be sharing things, but you don’t let me in. Why not? Don’t you trust me?”

  Katie had never had to answer to her sister before. “Of course I trust you.”

  “Really? Because the basis of almost all our conversations is you checking up on me—am I using my inhaler, have I been in hospital, am I sure I want to marry this man. When do you ever lean on me?”

  “I—” She swallowed. “I don’t really lean on anyone.”

  “Exactly. And why not? We’re family, Katie. I’m not some random stranger you can’t trust.”

  “We talk all the time.”

  Rosie shrugged. “Whenever we talk, it’s mostly you sorting out my problems and most of the time I don’t even want you to sort them out. I don’t need you to interfere.”

  She was being caring, not interfering. Wasn’t she?

  She forced herself to examine whether that might be the truth. It was a deeply uncomfortable experience. She could see how it might be possible to interpret her intervention as interference rather than loving concern.

  “I suppose the reason I don’t share my own problems is the same reason I do everything else. I’m protecting you.”

  Rosie didn’t smile. “You don’t have to protect me from life, Katie. I’m living it, right alongside you. When did we last do something fun together?”

  Catherine arrived before Katie had a chance to formulate a reply. She wasn’t sure if she was frustrated by the reprieve, or relieved. Mostly she was worried. It was unlike Rosie to be confrontational.

  And there was no sign of her apologizing or softening in any way. She didn’t reach for Katie’s hand or mouth sorry or any of the things Katie would have expected.

  And when had they last had fun together?

  As they drove back to the lodge, Rosie sat silent next to her.

  “I hope your parents are having fun,” Catherine said. “Dogsledding is usually a highlight for our guests.”

  Katie couldn’t begin to imagine her parents sledding, but what did she know? Right now she wasn’t thinking about her parents, she was thinking about her sister. According to Rosie, she was no fun.

  She answered Catherine politely and then looked out of the windows at the mountains, feeling as if she’d somehow let her sister down.

  Despite the discomfort, she forced herself to analyze their relationship. It wasn’t that she didn’t see her sister as an equal, it was more that there was an imbalance in their relationship. Katie had been ten years old when Rosie was born. When Katie had been sixteen, Rosie had been six. They’d moved through each phase of life at different times.

  “I’m going to drop you girls back at Snowfall Lodge because I have the floral designer coming at three,” Catherine said. “Katie, Becca can’t do your hair until five, but I thought you and Rosie might like a swim, or a massage, in the meantime. Have a little sister time.”

  Sister time.

  What was that supposed to look like?

  Katie shifted in her seat. It was up to her to make the change, and she needed to do it now. “A swim sounds good, but I didn’t bring a swimsuit.” Would swimming count as fun? She didn’t even know.

  “We sell swimsuits. Snowfall Lodge places great emphasis on aquatic recreation.” Catherine turned toward the lodge. “Your parents are having their romantic dinner in town tonight, and I have my book group which I can’t miss because it’s our last one of the year and I’m responsible for the food, so will you two be all right?”

  Rosie nodded. “I’m having a quiet dinner with Dan. Is that all right with you, Katie? You could order room service to the tree house and chill with a movie.”

  No, it wasn’t all right. Suddenly it seemed urgent that she and Rosie have fun together.

  “As we’re having our hair done and getting all gl
ammed up, maybe we should have one last fling as single sisters and go dancing. There has to be somewhere to dance in Aspen?”

  “Dancing?” Rosie was looking at her as if she’d suggested looting an art gallery.

  “I feel like celebrating. And it would be good to have fun together.”

  Her sister held her gaze. “All right.”

  “I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Catherine said. “It’s been all wedding, wedding, wedding lately and this will give you the chance to relax with your sister. Dan won’t mind. You two have the rest of your lives to be together.”

  Katie focused on her breathing. That surge of panic that enveloped her at the thought of Rosie spending the rest of her life with a man she barely knew? She was ignoring it. Mindfulness. Meditation. Medication. Whatever it took. She wasn’t saying anything else about it. Rosie was an adult, capable of making her own decisions.

  Maybe her sister was right. Maybe she was too protective. And what did she know about love anyway? Nothing. She wasn’t sure she knew much about having fun, either, but she was determined to address that.

  They spent the afternoon swimming in the heated rooftop pool that was the crowning glory of Snowfall Lodge. Covered by a glass dome, it was like being outdoors in the mountains.

  She and Rosie had the place to themselves. As Katie slid into the pool, the water warmed her skin and relieved some of the tension in her muscles.

  Keeping her body and shoulders beneath the surface of the water, she admired the jagged mountains and the tips of the snowy trees. It was as if the world had been painted in white.

  If it weren’t for the circumstances, she could almost have relaxed.

  Rosie floated next to her, eyes closed.

  “Are you mad with me?”

  Rosie opened her eyes. “No. But sometimes it’s a little frustrating that you still treat me like a child.”

  “Not true.” Katie wiped the water out of her eyes. “Maybe it is true, but I think that’s because you’re my baby sister.”

  “I’m twenty-two.”