Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

“Well,” I say, studying the pictures laid out in front of her of skinny
models in brightly colored shiny gowns, “maybe you should pick
your wedding colors first. Then you can just pick a style you like.”
“What an inspired idea.” She pulls out some papers with scraps
of color stapled to them. “Here are some of my color choices. What
do you think?”
She looks at me all serious. I know that in the great big scheme
of things choosing wedding colors is not an awe-inspiring responsibility,
but the fact that Mom is seriously asking my opinion makes
me feel really important.
I think she has almost every color in the world on these sheets,
but they are grouped into a few coordinating palettes. One has a
horrid pea green that wouldn’t look good on anyone—not even
Adara. I shove that one aside. Some have different shades of orange
and yellow that seem more Halloween-y than wedding-y. I put those
aside with the pea green. That leaves two choices: one with three
shades of pink that my mom would never be caught within spitting
distance of and one with three shades of blue and a teal green.
“This one,” I say, pointing to the blue and green palette. “Everyone
looks good in light blue. And it goes with the whole Mediterranean
setting.”
Mom studies the colors, like she’s picturing the whole wedding
and adding touches of blue and teal everywhere.
“I like it,” Mom says, smiling and warming up to the choice. “And
blue and white are the colors of Greece. It seems only fitting since
I will soon become a Greek citizen.”
“What!” My jaw drops and I stare at her. “You’re becoming a
Greek?”
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