The Wedding Secret. Michele Dunaway

was only a few blocks west of the Water Tower. She was still almost in the heart of downtown.

      Cecile returned her attention to her sister. They were so different, both in looks and temperament. Elizabeth worked for a charity, doing communications work. She planned to work only until her first child, which she would start trying for immediately. Her husband was turning thirty-four in September. An up-and-coming orthopedic surgeon in an already-established practice, Elizabeth and Devon had bought a big house in Barrington a block or two over from both “Grandmas” and started renovations for when the stork arrived.

      That was one area of which Cecile wasn’t envious. Even though she’d be thirty August fifteenth, no biological clock ticked in her head. Women in their forties had children. Heck, women had children without men. She’d produced a show on the very subject only a few months ago.

      “Whose phone is ringing?” someone suddenly asked, jarring Cecile’s reverie. The bridesmaids, happily buzzed on mimosas, chimed “Not mine” one after the other.

      Cecile blinked. By now everyone was staring at her, and she realized it was her cell phone loudly trilling “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.” An avid sports fan, the jingle had been the perfect download.

      All the bridesmaids had been given matching purple sequined purses, and Cecile squatted down to remove the phone from the bag resting at her feet. The custom ringtone meant one thing—the caller was one of her three best friends. She glanced at the number. Lisa. A very welcome intrusion.

      “Excuse me,” Cecile said as she straightened, the floor-length fabric rustling. “I need to take this call. I’ll only be a moment.”

      She ignored the group’s speculation and opened the heavy wooden door. The church hallway was cool, and as she stepped onto the marble floor, she could see guests arriving in the church’s narthex. Cecile pressed the talk button, catching her former roommate’s call before it rolled to voice mail.

      “Hey, Lisa, what’s up?” Cecile said. “You just saved me from sitting any longer in a room full of tipsy bridesmaids. Please tell me we weren’t like that when we were twenty-four.”

      “I don’t think so,” Lisa said. “At least not all the time. But you’re busy, so, Cecile, I’ll make this quick. You won’t believe it, but Mark and I are getting married!”

      “Congrats,” Cecile said. Her brow wrinkled as the significance of the announcement dawned. Lisa—married? Cecile had to admit she was stunned. They’d always joked that Lisa would be the last one wed. Had she really said married? Was she…?

      “And, no, I’m not pregnant,” Lisa said, laughing as if anticipating the question. “I’m in love.”

      “Wow. That was fast.” Cecile said, catching her breath to hide her shock. Lisa wasn’t the impulsive type, and when Cecile had last seen Lisa a few weeks ago during Cecile’s layover in St. Louis, Lisa had been wrestling with starting one of those “friends with benefits” relationships with Mark.

      So married. Already? No one should get married this fast, unless perhaps they were trying out for a Valentine’s Day talk show or a free wedding gown.

      “It happens that way,” Lisa said as if reading Cecile’s thoughts again. “You know what this means, don’t you? I’m not going to be the last one married anymore. And since Tori’s too busy with Jeff to ever settle down, that means one thing. Cecile, the order’s changed. You, my friend, are next.”

      Cecile frowned. She knew all about the “order.” On the night before their sorority initiation, the girls had been camped out in the common room. Dreaming of the future, they’d predicted the order of their marriages. They’d also selected who’d be the maid of honor for whom. Thus, Lisa had stood next to Joann, who’d married right out of college. Cecile would stand next to Lisa. Tori would stand next to Cecile. And Joann would stand next to Tori, making the circle complete.

      “I’m hardly next,” Cecile said with a disbelieving snort, thrilled for her friend yet cynical about her prediction. “It would take a man for that, and I certainly don’t have one of those in the picture at this moment.”

      “No one?” Lisa said, sounding like a woman in love who wants everyone to be as happy as she. “I guess we really didn’t get to talk much about your love life when you were here. But you always have a guy waiting in the wings somewhere. Surely there’s someone.”

      There was always someone, just not the one. Cecile wanted that deep emotional connection and refused to settle until she found it. A noise sounded behind her, but Cecile dismissed it. “I wish I could tell you I’m dating someone, but I just relocated. I have a new career. No time.”

      “I’d just relocated to St. Louis and look what happened to me,” Lisa said.

      Cecile pointed her foot and touched the tip of her shoe to the floor, her body full of pent-up energy. “Lisa, you know I love you, but no boyfriends are on my radar. Besides, there’s always Bob. He’s much easier to deal with than love. Much simpler.”

      “TMI!” Lisa shouted before she began laughing. “Oh, you kill me. I do not want to know if you have a battery-operated boyfriend.”

      “Don’t worry, I don’t,” Cecile said, smiling. Talking to Lisa always chased away the doldrums, especially as she was easy to tease. “However, if I ever tell you I’m dating Bob, you’ll know that my life as I know it is over. Put me on a talk show. I will have given up on men.”

      “I just said I didn’t want to know. Now I know why I stopped being roommates with you. You are way too blunt with information.”

      Cecile could hear the mirth in Lisa’s voice. Funny how she could just pick up and talk to Lisa as if it were yesterday. “Ha-ha. The real reason we split up was because I got a job in New York and had to move away.”

      “Yeah, be technical,” Lisa said, her amusement obvious. “Anyway, I know you’re at your sister’s wedding so I’ll cut this short. Just like we planned all those years ago, I want you to be my maid of honor. It’s time.”

      “Of course you can count on me,” Cecile said, warmth tingling her toes. While she might be a little shocked by the sudden turn of events, she knew Lisa better than she knew her own sister. If Lisa had decided Mark Smith was the one, then he was. “You know I’d be honored to stand by your side when you get married.” Even if it means enduring another wedding, another reminder that perhaps my Mr. Right doesn’t exist.

      “Thank you. I know it’s sudden. But, Cecile, I love him. He’s always been the one, even after the fiasco at Joann’s reception. We’ve wasted eight years, and I refuse to wait anymore now that we’re finally together. I’ll tell you all the details next time I see you—or at least talk to you when you aren’t needed elsewhere.”

      “You’d better,” Cecile said automatically. “I think I rate a scoop after everything we’ve been through.” They’d pledged the sorority together, shared initiation rituals, gossip and dreams. They’d even shared an apartment for a while.

      But it was still a bit surreal to imagine Lisa getting married, especially to Mark Smith, a man she’d despised and labeled a playboy. There had to be a show in that: “I’m marrying the man I always thought I hated.”

      “Look, my sister’s wedding is about to start,” Cecile told Lisa. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

      “That’s fine. I didn’t mean to disturb you, but I wanted you to know first. I still haven’t called Tori. She’s next.”

      “Well, go call her. She’ll hate you if you don’t tell her within a few hours of calling me,” Cecile joked.

      “I’ll call her the moment I hang up. And you go pick up some hunky groomsman. I’m sure he’d be better in bed than Bob any day.”

      Cecile laughed at that. “I don’t know. Bob can be pretty low-maintenance.”

      “You’ll never change. Find