She took a rueful look at Leah’s flower arrangement, at Meira and Chana’s gowns, then at Yehuda’s back. “I guess not everyone read the memo about the color scheme,” she commented
L
ightning streaked across the sky, brighter than the flash of the photographer’s camera. Leah shivered in her white gown and struggled to maintain her smile and the tilt of her lilac-and- lavender bouquet as thunder boomed.
The weather forecast had promised her special day would be partly cloudy, but the clouds looming overhead as she posed for pictures were a thick, dark gray.
The storm had begun brewing earlier in the afternoon, when her siblings arrived at the wedding hall. Lavender was the color scheme, and you might’ve thought her siblings could find gowns and ties to match. But no, Meira was wearing champagne, and Chana, navy. Even Yehuda’s tie was red. The looks Meira and Chana received from the siblings who went to great pains to find purple outfits were like bolts of electricity. Leah wrapped her disappointment up tightly inside of her.
A droplet splashed against her arm, and the photographer’s assistant holding her train announced that it looked like it would pour. They retreated indoors, and by the time everyone reassumed their positions for family portraits, the rain was pounding against the windowpanes.
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