So Alice loved Justin. Big deal. Who was she to stand in the way of progress?

Maisy Carmicheal twisted in her pew. “You look lovely, dear.” She smiled at Alice and adjusted her cotton candy pillbox hat. For a beautician, the woman wouldn’t know style if it stole her ugly hat and slapped her upside the head. “Wait until you see the bride. Perfection. My best updo ever.”

“I’m sure.” Alice held her eyes firmly in place despite the urge to let them roll down the aisle. Of course Morgan Parrish was perfect. Her father was the mayor. His power and money made certain she was skinny, educated, and flawless — everything Alice wasn’t.

More tears burned the backs of Alice’s eyes, but before a drop could fall, a flash of red passed on the Alice’s left. Josie Parrish stopped beside Maisy’s pew. “The combs aren’t holding,” she hissed. “Help me, Maisy. This is a disaster. I can’t believe she lost that tiara. I told her that bachelorette party was a foolish idea.”

Tiara? Hmmm. Alice watched the bride’s mother grab Maisy around the wrist and pull her out of the sanctuary. A tiara. Like the one Alice sat on in the front seat of Charlie’s car? No. Alice couldn’t imagine Morgan ever stooping low enough to accept a ride from the likes of Charlie. And why would Charlie have been anywhere near Morgan’s bachelorette party?

Alice shook her head. The tiara in Charlie’s car couldn’t be the same tiara Morgan was missing. Besides, after all the years of friendship, Charlie would never hurt Justin.

But a drunk Charlie did things a sober Charlie would never do.

Alice winced. Absolutely not. She refused to believe it. This was just an uncanny coincidence. And yet … how many tiaras were floating around Harmony Falls?

She looked at Justin. He held his hands waist high and alternated squeezing palms, first the right on top and then the left. From the back of the church, she couldn’t see him clearly, but she bet he was chewing his bottom lip. He always chewed when he was worried. She couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe he had something to chew about.

A few minutes later, Maisy returned to her pew. “Just a little hair snafu, but I worked my magic. The bride is officially breathtaking,” she said, gloating loudly enough for several rows to hear.

Alice fidgeted, trying to push thoughts of missing tiaras out of her head. She scratched at her tight bodice, picking at a hard piece of plastic that ran up her side and dug into her right breast. When she did, her elbow bumped the man sitting next to her.

“You look pretty, Alice.” The Mitchell’s ancient gardener smiled and tipped his hat. “Just like Marilyn Monroe.”

“That’s sweet, Tubby. Thank you.” Never mind that the dress was about as comfortable as a potato sack. She didn’t remember it being so itchy when she wore it last year in Hello, Dolly. Then again, with no operating budget for her twice-a-year productions, the dress hadn’t been dry-cleaned since.

Alice sighed again. Maybe borrowing a dress from the costume closet wasn’t the best idea, but her alternatives weren’t any better. Wear a frock from the thrift store or drop a bundle on a trip to the city and a dress she’d never wear again. In all honesty, this was hardly the occasion to splurge. She’d have worn black if she thought she could’ve gotten away with it.

Tubby started humming show tunes under his mint-scented breath, and Alice wondered if he recognized the dress. She slipped down in the pew, wishing she could hold her head up high, wanting just once to attend a Mitchell affair without sitting in the back with the outcasts. But Johnny Cramer made sure his daughter knew her place. Even though he died years before Mama, his words rang clear: “When they look at us, all they see is trash, baby. The sooner you realize it, the better off you’ll be.”

Yeah? Well, Alice realized it — and she was tired of waiting for the better-off part. All she needed was the grant money, and she’d have a real brick and mortar theatre. She’d know her place then, and everyone else would know her place, too.

Alice Catherine Cramer belonged in the spotlight, not in the audience. She deserved applause, not pity. And with that little pep talk, she smiled, fidgeted again and pressed her back to the uncomfortable pew.

A crinkled hand landed on her leg. “Maybe I’m the only one who thinks it, but that boy’s making a mistake.” Tubby shook his head. “A man should be happy on his wedding day, and he’s not happy.”

Alice blinked. Her mouth fell open, and she almost agreed, but before the words tumbled out, trumpets blasted through the church, and Molly Lunsford, cousin of the bride, tossed a handful of rose petals over the white runner near Alice’s pew. She looked like a cherub with ringlet curls. The crowd oohed and aahed, and the child bowed. After another handful of petals hit the ground, the little girl sprinted down the aisle toward her papa, where he scooped her into his arms and planted a kiss to her cheek.

Sweet. Alice stole a glance at Justin. Despite the precious child and chuckles from the pews, he was somber, and his misery made her heart hurt. Before she could dwell too much on Justin’s lack of happiness, creampuff bridesmaids strolled past, each one stuffier and stiffer than the next. Alice didn’t know most of them. They were outsiders, Morgan’s friends from a fancy law school in Connecticut, with poufy hair, chandelier earrings and bright pink lips. They looked like the cast of Willy Wonka threw up all over the stage.

And then Morgan appeared. The only thing missing was the choir of angels. She was five foot ten with hair of spun silk and a designer dress flown in from France. Whatever the Parrish family had paid for all those layers of lace, they paid too much, Alice thought, smoothing her hand-me-down dress over clenched thighs. She imagined all the overpriced clothes Morgan would buy with the Mitchell family money. What a waste.

The Justin Alice knew wasn’t like that. He spent his money, drove new cars, and owned nice homes, but he gave a lot of his money away, and he looked best in blue jeans and a faded Penn State hat with the brim brushing his neck. Morgan wanted to change him, starting with the push to move to D.C. and the “for sale” sign in Justin’s front yard. If the banshee got her way, Justin would turn into suit-and-tie-wearing Congressman Mitchell full-time and leave Harmony Falls for good.

As much as the thought depressed Alice, his complete transformation was for the best. When Plain Old Justin was around, Alice couldn’t breathe. The lines blurred. He didn’t seem so off limits wearing faded jeans and a crooked smile, and she didn’t feel so unworthy. In those moments, dreams of being together spilled into her days, and she wasted time walking around a fool in unrequited love.

Thankfully, it’d been a long time since Alice had been stuck in the “I love Justin” rut. She was happy with the direction her life was headed. After today, she hoped the rut would be permanently patched. A girl could dream, couldn’t she? Yes, she could. Even if those dreams weren’t likely to come true.

A trumpet blast startled Alice as Morgan floated down the aisle with her nose in the air. Alice refused to fawn over a bratty bride, so she focused on the groom instead. His face lengthened and two shadows slashed his cheeks. There wasn’t an ounce of joy in the man.

Smile, Justin. Although it would hurt Alice more to see him smile, even the smallest sign of happiness would set her free with the knowledge that at least one of them was getting what they wanted. The idea that he harbored second thoughts pushed her to the edge of the pew.

Smile, Justin. She willed her thoughts over the terrible trumpeting.

But Justin wilted further. There was no shine, no sparkle, no … tiara.

Alice gasped. What if the tiara in Charlie’s car was Morgan’s? What if they … ? She slapped a hand over her mouth. Charlie had been known to romance anything with the right parts, and Morgan’s parts were in demand. If Charlie had been drunk, it was possible he made a move.

Oh, God. Alice bit the inside of her cheek. She’d been called a drama queen more times than she could count. Was she being overly dramatic now?

While the Parrish side of the wedding party beamed, the Mitchell side paled. Even Mark, the youngest and goofiest brother, looked worried. And why shouldn’t he be? Everything was wrong. This wasn’t a wedding march, this was a funeral dirge. The black cloud that appeared over Harmony Falls the day Justin’s daddy died had grown into a full-blown storm with Justin directly in its path. And he didn’t deserve to be. He was a good man who spent his days helping everybody else. Now it was time for somebody to help him.

The honorable thought carried Alice to her feet. She gulped a few mouthfuls of air, trying to gain courage. “Stop.” The shaky command travelled a few pews.

Half the church looked at Alice instead of the bride.

“Can I talk to Justin?” Alice spoke louder this time, pushing out of the pew and into the aisle. “It’ll only take a minute. I promise.”

Alice hadn’t heard so many gasps since she fell off the pavilion stage into the shrubs during opening night of A Chorus Line. But she kept her eyes on a gaping Justin, and blocked out the rest.

“Daddy, she’s ruining my wedding.”

Mayor Parrish stepped in front of his whining daughter and cut off Alice’s view of the groom.

Alice stopped cold, watching the mayor move closer. “Justin, I … ”

A couple hands wrapped around her upper arms, and Alice felt tugged from behind. “Let’s go, little lady. No time for drama. This here ain’t a thee-a-ter.”