The Wedding Sisters Read Online Free PDF Page A

liked by. She was occasionally intimidating, but just until you got to know her; she was a girl’s girl—a loyal friend, a straight shooter at work, the voice of reason among her squabbling sisters. She never stole someone else’s boyfriend, took credit for work that wasn’t hers, or upstaged someone when it was their turn to speak. She was polite and well-informed, opinionated but not judgmental. She dressed stylishly but not flashily. She was ambitious but not cutthroat. She was beautiful, yes—but in an understated way. Jo was less classically beautiful, but when she walked into a room, every head turned. Meg could fly under the radar if need be.
    But with Tippy …
    â€œStowe, I don’t want to worry about efficiency. Planning our wedding isn’t something I want to just check off my list like an article I have to write. In some ways, I’ve been looking forward to this my whole life.” Meg smiled, thinking of all those times she and her sisters had played “wedding” as little girls.
    Stowe took her hands in his, drawing her closer. “That’s not what I meant, Meg. It’s just there’s a lot to do, we’re all busy—including your mom—and we are lucky to have a pro at our disposal. Why not use her?”
    She didn’t want a pro. And yet, she found it difficult to say no. It was a new and undesirable side of herself that had somehow appeared to coincide with her relationship with Stowe: people pleaser. And this people-pleasing was undeniably specific to one person in particular: Tippy Campion.
    *   *   *
    Meryl unwrapped the triangular brick of Jarlsberg from its cellophane wrapper and removed the lid from the plastic container of mixed, pitted olives. No, she “didn’t even really cook.” But the table was set with beautiful dishes, the crystal candlesticks she and Hugh had brought back from a trip to Ireland, and Meg’s favorite tablecloth, the green and red bird toile print that Meryl had bought on Madison at a cute little shop that had long since been replaced by a Gucci or Alice + Olivia or someplace else she’d never set foot in. In the oven, Meryl was reheating bruschetta, and the house smelled like she’d been cooking all day. So there.
    Hugh walked in, heavily dropping his books and messenger bag on the entrance table.
    â€œHugh, put that stuff in your office, please. They’ll be here soon. Oh, and my mother isn’t coming after all,” Meryl told him.
    Hugh shrugged as if to say, What’s new?
    He seemed quiet, distracted. Usually, when he was stressed out, it was because he was grading subpar exams, failures that he took personally. But it was only October—too early for end-of-the-semester nerves. Maybe he’d hit yet another “wall” in writing his book. But it was doubtful after all this time that he was letting his ever-stalled project get to him. So it must be Meg’s engagement.
    She had to admit there was something both thrilling and unnerving about Meg marrying into such extreme wealth—that money would never be an issue for her. It was something Meryl could barely imagine. And Amy seemed headed on the same track with Andy. Only her youngest daughter, Jo, seemed to be living a normal existence for a twenty-something, working at a Brooklyn coffee shop and dating an equally cash-strapped law student.
    Meryl tried to imagine the early years of her marriage, only without worrying about money. While Meryl and Hugh had never been impoverished, there had been many months in the early days when they lived on cereal and missed payments on the electric bill. Not that they cared; they were just happy to be together. But since the Yardley job, they managed to live extremely well within their means. The girls had attended Yardley for free. Meg earned an academic scholarship to Georgetown, and Jo had gotten a partial scholarship to NYU. They paid full tuition