“Sometimes they say light snow, and we get dumped on. What if—”

“We’re not going to get dumped on.” As if daring the weather gods, Parker bared her teeth. “We’re going to get a couple pretty, fluffy inches in the morning for a gorgeous December evening wedding. Go get ready for rehearsal.”

“I’m afraid of rehearsal. My voice is going to squeak. I think I’m getting a zit right in the middle of my chin. I’m going to trip coming down the aisle. It’s okay if Carter trips. People expect it. But—”

“Your voice is not going to squeak, you’re not going to get a zit, and you’re certainly not going to trip.” Parker thumbed out Tums. For herself, and for Mac. “Do I know what I’m doing?”

“Yes, you do, but I’m—”

“Trust me. It’s going to be perfect and beautiful and the happiest day of your life.”

“I’m being a pain in the ass.”

“No, honey, you’re being a bride. Now go take a nice, warm bath.You’ve got an hour.”

“Carter isn’t nervous.” Mac narrowed her eyes in a scowl. “I could hate him for that.”

“Mackensie.” Parker turned from the computer. “I was in the kitchen this morning when Mrs. G made him sit down and eat some breakfast. He put maple syrup in his coffee.”

“He did?” She threw up her arms in a cheer.“He is nervous. I feel better. I want him to be nervous, too, and I want his ears to blush the way they do, and I want . . . Since I’m the bride it can be all about what I want, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay. So, I want to thank you for temporarily lifting my mother’s banishment.”

“Mac—”

“No, I mean it. Let me just vent this out, and it’ll be over.”

“Okay.Vent away.”

“It’s important she be here tomorrow, even though she’s a massive pain in my ass, and everyone else’s.”

“She’s still your mother.”

“Yeah, and that’s for better or worse, too. Anyhow, I know you’ve talked to her about it, and the rules of the road.”

“It took one brief phone call. It’s nothing.”

“One brief, unpleasant phone call.”

Now Parker smiled. “Not for me. Did she give you grief over it?”

“She tried. She failed. Her power is diminished in that area, which pisses her off.” Mac’s dimples fluttered. “I’m small enough to enjoy that.”

“I’d say you’d be stupid if you didn’t.”

“Good. So I’m not stupid.” On a breath, Mac folded her hands in her lap. “But I want her here because we’ve been through this enough to know you don’t want to look back on the biggest day of your life and have a single regret. And hell, since my father apparently can’t work the wedding into his busy schedule of parties and cruising the Ionian Sea, I should have one parent here.”

“We know, even though it’s our job to supply them, a wedding isn’t just about the lights and the music and the show. It’s about the feelings.Your family’s going to be there, Mac.”

“Yeah.” Mac reached out, gripped hands with Parker.“The one that counts.”

“And more, Carter is going to be there, waiting for you, looking at you, promising you.”

“Oh God, yeah. I’m so ready. Nervous, but so ready.”

“Go take that bath, soak out the nerves.”

“On it.” Mac got up, started out.“Parks? I love him so much it feels like there’s more inside me, a better me in there than there used to be. I’m not nervous about being married to him. I’m just nervous about, well, the show. Forgetting my lines or not hitting my cue.”

“Leave all that to me. Just think about being married to Carter.”

“That I can do.” She dashed back, caught Parker in a hug. “I love you so much, too.”

As she hugged, Parker reached over for a tissue, put it in Mac’s hand. “Thanks. I’m not going to cry tomorrow, so I’m planning to cry a lot tonight.”

“That’s a very good plan. Make sure to seal your mascara so it doesn’t run.”

Twenty minutes later, Parker dashed downstairs to check with Laurel.

And stopped as her breath caught.

“Oh, Laurel.”

“She’s demanding to be called Super-Laurel,” Del told Parker as he sat at the kitchen counter munching a cookie.

“And who could blame her? She is Super-Laurel. It’s the most beautiful cake ever created.”

“Not done yet,” Laurel mumbled, and continued to place sugar-paste flowers.

“Carter’s is.” Del jerked a thumb toward the remodeled mudroom that now served as Laurel’s auxiliary kitchen.

Parker went in, opened the cooler. “I love it! It’s even better than the sketch. The open book, the scene from As You Like It. I swear it looks like you could turn the page.”

“Try it and die.” Laurel rolled her aching shoulders and glanced over as Parker came back. “Oh God, don’t cry.”

“I’m following Mac’s plan.” She pulled tissues out of her pocket. “Cry tonight, stay dry tomorrow. I have gel masks for all of us chilling in the main fridge so we won’t be puffy tomorrow.”

“Thank God,” Del said, “I was really worried I’d have puffy eyes.”

“Take your cookie and go check on Carter,” Parker ordered. “And you can call or run over to Emma’s, tell her she’s not allowed to be late. Have Jack carry her over if necessary.”

“Fine. I know when I’m not wanted.”

“I thought about letting you sneak into my room tonight,” Laurel said.“But you didn’t buy me a fabulous new pair of shoes.”

“Mal’s going to pay for that, for screwing the curve for the rest of us.”

When they were alone, Laurel glanced down at Parker’s feet. “They really are fabulous. Everything else okay?”

“It’s fine. I got tomorrow’s forecast, and—”

“I’m not talking about Mac’s wedding, which is a change from most conversations this week. I’m talking about you and Malcolm.”