Team Bride by Valerie Comer Page A

wedding video would have to be easier to endure than that family dinner with everyone screeching like magpies. Corbin’s sisters were probably very nice, but did they have to amp up the volume every time one told a story over top of the other?
    The relative quiet of the basement family room soothed Sarah. Just a few more hours, and they could return to Riverbend. Corbin would have had his family outing, and she wouldn’t have embarrassed him. Well, that was likely impossible, but at least she wouldn’t have embarrassed herself. She wanted them to like her. Really, she did, but she’d never be able to fit in.
    The room was packed with bodies. Sarah sat on the fuzzy carpet beside Corbin, leaning against a padded ottoman. He held her hand in both of his, the length of his body pressed against hers. With his rock-steady comfort, she could survive.
    Don slid the disc into the player and fumbled around with the remote control until Amanda grabbed it from his hands and pressed a few buttons.
    Deb leaned over to Sarah. “We had the old video formatted onto a DVD several years ago, along with our favorite photos of our big day.”
    Sarah smiled back over her shoulder. “What a great idea.”
    The first snapshots projected, bigger than life, on a 60” TV screen. Sarah frowned. Something about the bride and groom looked vaguely familiar. Had Sarah seen that lacy white gown with poufy sleeves before? Corbin’s aunt hadn’t been a tiny woman even twenty-five years ago, and she liked her hair just as big now as she had then. Maybe it was just that she still looked like the same woman.
    A few photos later, shots of the entire wedding party came onscreen. Sarah caught her breath and stared. But when the beaming bride crouched beside the nervous flower girl, her gut clenched.
    “That’s me,” she whispered.
    Corbin leaned closer. “What did you say?”
    “I said that flower girl is me.” More photos flowed by. She’d never seen them before, but that didn’t keep her from being certain.
    He laughed. “No way.”
    “I’m serious.”
    Corbin leaned back. “Aunt Deb? Who was your flower girl?”
    “A little neighbor girl named Sarah. Why?”
    He stared at Sarah, questions in his eyes. “Did you keep in touch with her family?”
    “No, sadly. They moved away right after the wedding, and we lost track of them. I heard the parents split up. Wasn’t she sweet, though?”
    “Very.” Corbin slid his arm around Sarah’s shoulders and tugged her closer. “Are you sure?” he whispered, clasping her fingers with his free hand.
    The actual wedding ceremony came on the screen, now in video. Men in pink ruffled shirts, sparkling cumberbunds, and white tuxedos lined up at the front of the church.
    The basement family room seemed devoid of air. Sarah’s world narrowed to the déjà-vu on the screen.
    “Positive,” she whispered back as the first of three bridesmaids in pastel pink lace strolled down the aisle. Next, two junior bridesmaids pranced together.
    A loud smack off to the side could only be Amanda and Michelle high-fiving each other for the umpteenth time today. “Weren’t we the cutest ever?” asked Amanda.
    Sarah’s memories weren’t anywhere near the adorable meter. She tightened her grip on Corbin’s hand.
    Then the flower girl appeared, her blond ringlets wreathed in pink flowers that matched her dress. She marched beside the ring bearer and clutched the basket with one hand while scattering pink petals on the orange carpet with the other. The ring bearer bent down and scooped petals back into the basket.
    The wedding guests tittered, and he grinned at the attention. A few seconds later he grabbed the basket and swung around, flinging the flowers across the aisle and nearby guests, then waved at the videographer before dragging the flower girl toward the front.
    The girl jerked free and stomped her foot.  
    Humiliation washed over Sarah along with the visual. She tried to pull her hand from Corbin’s, but he