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I’ve learned to put up with Aria’s new and uni sister who used to organize elaborate pranks for us to play on our parents during fa uys she dated

“Lark, you’re here!” Melody,her hands “Hoas the wedding? Was it a and romantic and all around fantastic? Was Lisa beautiful? Did Matt cry? Did you cry?”

“It was perfect Of course, a little, and of course,” I say, laughing as Melody pulls

Melody loves weddings alhtly less than she loves to eat Her coraduated froh I’m two and a half years older

My little sis and I share a love of preparing food, the sa, sandy blond hair and brown eyes, and nearly identical rounded figures that give testimony to the fact that we hit the cheese board er, people rowth spurt and left me behind

Now, at five-foot-two, standing between my taller sisters, I’m a short, squatty novel—probably a cozy mystery, with a punny, food-theed between two mismatched bookends

No one knohere Aria’s red hair and green eyes carandmother on our father’s side, but they remain unsubstantiated If Aria didn’t have our dad’s nose and super long fingers—or if all three of the Bliss River postmen weren’t actually postwomen—I’m sure the jokes fro

“I hated to h as she releasesher the best day ever?”

“I did, and she said thank you for holding down the fort here so I could be her maid of honor”

“Of course!” Melody waves a hand in the air “You had to be her e if she’d picked anyone else”

“Though it ive so between us as she heads for the sink “You knohat they say about the March girls and weddings…”

I wrinkle ossips, the women in our mother’s book club, Nana’s friends at the DAR, and all the been- better to do than predict who is, or isn’t, going to get irls