An Island Christmas Read Free

silly frilly dresses and makeup that made my face feel like it was coated with rubber. I mean wearing that froufrou maid of honor dress at your wedding when I nearly broke my ankle tottering along in those ridiculous high heels.”
    “You could hardly walk down the aisle in the churchwearing those clodhopper hiking boots you clomp around in,” Lauren said, but without much emotion. This was a discussion they’d had many times before.
    “Look, Lauren, you can’t turn a cheetah into a house cat and you can’t turn me into a model.”
    “I never said you could. What I’m saying is that if you could lower your standards a smidgen and allow Mom to have the Norman Rockwell Christmas wedding she longs for, it might go a long way toward helping her accept your marriage to Archie.”
    Felicia, always restless when cooped up inside, jumped up off their thrift shop sofa and began to pace. “That might never happen. Archie’s like Rob Roy and Mom’s like Martha Stewart. Last year when Mom and Dad came out to visit us, Mom was all Queen Elizabeth, turning up her nose at our apartment, as if we were living out of cardboard boxes.”
    “Didn’t you eat out of cardboard boxes?” Lauren couldn’t help teasing.
    “You are totally loving all this, aren’t you?” Felicia accused. “Yes, we did eat out of cardboard boxes because the nights Dad didn’t take us out to dinner, we had pizza or take-out Chinese like we always do. Archie doesn’t expect me to serve him a four course meal every night, complete with the proper wine.”
    “It’s not the superficial stuff that worries Mom,” Lauren said gently. “It’s more the values stuff. Like the importance of family.”
    “Come on, there are all kinds of families. His parentsgot divorced when he was young, and a few years ago his father died. But Archie and his mom are still a family,” Felicia said defiantly. “I think his mom’s totally awesome. She worked as a soccer coach and gym teacher at a girls’ school in South Carolina and raised Archie all by herself.”
    “Okay. I respect that. Still, you have to admit that Archie doesn’t really fit into our family. We stay in one place for generations. Archie is a vagabond. And he’s turning you into one.”
    “In the first place,” argued Felicia, “I’ve always wanted to travel. In the second place, Archie isn’t turning me into anything except a very happy woman. In the third place, we have both worked our tails off as white-water rafting guides for the last five years to save money for this trip. If that isn’t behaving responsibly and reliably, what is?”
    “Fine,” Lauren said. “Let’s talk about the wedding. I have an idea I think you’ll like. Let me be in charge.”
    “This is the sound of me trying not to scream,” Felicia said.
    “Come on, think about it. Who used to give her dolls weddings? Who thinks the way Mom does? I’ve already made some notes. The ceremony will be at St. Paul’s Church. The reception will be at home. You should wear a plain white satin dress, and a red velvet cloak.”
    “I’ll look like Little Red Riding Hood,” Felicia objected.
    Lauren continued unfazed. “Archie’s last name is Galloway. I’ve already checked the tartan book. His pattern is mostly green. Does he have a kilt?”
    “You bet Archie has his own kilt. He’s so proud of his Scottish heritage I’m just grateful he doesn’t play bagpipes.”
    “Fabulous. He can wear his kilt with all the trappings and you can wear a red velvet sash around your waist—”
    “And a poinsettia in my hair.” Felicia snorted.
    “I’m considering having your dress trimmed with white faux fur on the cuffs and hem. I’ll definitely loan you my diamond earrings.”
    “I don’t have pierced ears.”
    “Of course you don’t. Fine. I’ll think of something else. The point is, I can make all the arrangements. Mother will enjoy working with me on the color scheme—”
    “Our wedding will have a color scheme? This