Peonies were in bloom wherever we went, it seemed. The lobby of the Taj was filled with them, and Suzie brought a bunch for a wedding bouquet. (To think I had almost foregone a wedding bouquet… sometimes the Matron of Honor saves the day.) The day dawned, and the sun was in the sky, pouring into our room.
As you can see, the story about me wearing ripped jeans to my wedding was not a tall tale. I’m too short for tall tales.
