Beach Blanket Santa

in the mirror. Her blonde hair was in a perfect updo with loose tendrils spilling forth. Though they were best friends, they couldn’t have looked any more different. Sarah’s curly brown hair spilled past her shoulders, its color matching her eyes. “I’m going to look gorgeous and drunk if you pour me another glass.” Elaine took a sip and giggled.
    Sarah adjusted the wedding gown at the shoulders and smiled. “You’ll do just fine.”
    Elaine surveyed her maid of honor in the mirror. “Not drinking today, are we?”
    Sarah caught her breath, recalling the last time she’d indulged at one of Elaine’s weddings. “I think it’s safer this way.”
    “Well, I wouldn’t worry,” Elaine said. “The groomsmen here aren’t nearly as dishy as the first time around.”
    “Elaine! You’re talking about Richard’s brothers!”
    “Oh, come on, Sarah. I may be engaged, but I still have eyes. Charlie and Hank are hot enough, but neither one is eye candy like—”
    Sarah felt her cheeks flame. “Please don’t remind me.” It was all Sarah could do to forget waking up in the gorgeous Matt Salvatore’s arms. He’d been the best man, and she the maid of honor. After one too many glasses of champagne and a lot of incredibly sexy slow dancing, they’d somehow wound up back at her place after the reception. She’d had a secret crush on Matt ever since first laying eyes on him at one of Elaine’s pre-wedding parties. And when he’d kissed her on the dance floor, her knees had melted like butter. Sarah had never had a man kiss her that way. No one before, and nobody since.
    “Those Salvatore men are pretty hard to resist,” Elaine said with a knowing look.
    “You divorced one of them.”
    “It’s true. But it was for the best. Just look at how things have worked out. Robert met Margaret, and I’ve found” —s he sighed longingly — “Hank.”
    Sarah took away her sherry. “Richard. You mean, Richard.”
    “That’s right!” she said brightly.
    Uh-oh, Sarah thought, wondering if maybe she’d poured one too many glass for the bride.
    Someone knocked on the dressing room door. It was Janet, Richard’s younger sister. “They want us upstairs in ten!”
    Elaine hiccupped.
    “Thanks, Janet,” Sarah called, reaching for the water on the dresser. She gave Elaine the glass, urging her to take a long swallow. This sherry-drinking-before-the-wedding thing had been a tradition with their circle of girlfriends ever since Elaine’s first time at it three years before. They’d all opened two bottles about an hour ago and toasted to Elaine’s newfound happiness with Richard. While the other girls finished getting ready in the next room, Elaine had requested some time alone with her maid of honor.
    Elaine drained the glass, then met Sarah’s eyes. “Can I ask you something?”
    “Anything. Ask.”
    “Do you find it perverse I only fall in love with R guys?”
    “R guys?”
    “Richard, Robert, Rodney, Rafael… What do you think it means?”
    “I think you’re thinking too much about it. It’s a coincidence.”
    “Hmm.” Elaine reached for the sherry bottle, but Sarah stopped her.
    “They’re almost ready for us upstairs.”
    “Right!” Elaine straightened herself on her stool. “Which is why I need you to make a promise.”
    Sarah pursed her lips a moment, eying her friend. “What kind of promise?”
    “Come on, Sarah. Just say that you’ll promise! It’s my wedding day, okay?”
    “Okay, okay. I promise.”
    Elaine beamed. “That a girl.”
    “What-a-girl?”
    “You’ve just agreed to catch my bouquet!”
    Sarah swallowed hard. The last thing she needed to do right now was go catching anybody’s bouquet. Especially Elaine’s. Given Elaine’s wedding was today, that would put Sarah in line to marry next. Like that was destined to happen. Of course, that was just a silly superstition.
    Elaine shot her a stern look. “You can’t drop it. That would be bad luck.”
    “Maybe one of the other girls will elbow in,” Sarah added hopefully. “Jennifer’s been trying to nail down Louis for a while.”
    “Forget about Jennifer and Louis. I’m talking about you!”
    “But I don’t even have a boyfriend.”
    “No, Sarah. You don’t. You never have a boyfriend, because when a guy asks you on a third date, you always run away.”
    “That’s not true.”
    “What is it about that third date?”
    Elaine picked up the sherry, despite Sarah’s effort to stop her, and drank