Twenty-five

Attempt number two for mission wedding dress was a success, although in a different store but this time I went with Clara and by then word had spread around. The dress was simple, white, long enough to cover my leg and it had a bit of lace. Okay fine, it was the prettiest dress I’ve ever seen, a little bit loose on the chest area and some hemming was needed since there was no need for me to drag the train, I wasn’t really walking down the aisle. I was to be carried or roll down myself all the way there. The specifics weren’t quite there yet, or at least I didn’t know them, maybe no one had thought of it or asked. People hated to ask about mobility things around me.

In two days, I was going to become Mrs. Andreas MacKinnon and it was all going to change for me. Cold feet or not there was no going back.

The thrill, the butterflies, the urge to puke kept coming. According to Lacey, the town was buzzing after the news got out. I, Rebecca Kennedy was getting married, but