The Secret Wedding Dress

“No need to trouble you.” Joel might as well have saved his breath. His daughter sailed past him, headed down the hall at a dead run.

“Poor kid,” Sylvie murmured. “She had a glass of water earlier, and that huge glass of milk with the cookies. I should’ve pointed out the location of the bathrooms earlier.”

“She’s not shy. She could’ve asked.”

“At that age, ask a near stranger? Get outta here! Girls her age would burst rather than do that.”

The look crossing Joel’s face was one of pure horror. “Why are girls so difficult?” he muttered.

“You think she’s difficult at…what—six, seven? Wait until she reaches the dreaded teens.”

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