My Best Friend's Bride (34 page)

The others laughed, sensing what she was getting at. The boyfriend part. With Nona, you never knew how detailed those descriptions might be.

“I’ve got to be honest with you,” Rachel said. “I don’t think we could get something like that published. Like Trish said, that kind of story’s been done.”

“So?” Tiny asked. “We’ll publish it ourselves. Online. There are places we can do that at no cost or very cheap. It wouldn’t be a moneymaker anyway. We’d be printing it as a family keepsake.”

“That’s all well and good,” Haley said. “But you brought up a very good point. Moneymaking. We still don’t know where the dollars will come from to get our Nona to Sicily.”

“That’s where the veil comes in,” Susan said.

Angie turned to her. “Well, are you going to lift it?”

The women listened with rapt attention as Susan laid out her cunning plan. Just as they all agreed, everyone in town knew Nona had the energy of a person half her age. People wouldn’t doubt an octogenarian as spry as Nona would endeavor to take on something as bold as writing her memoirs. The townsfolk of Chandelier loved Nona for her spunk and for her spark. She’d been a staple of this community for as long as anyone remembered, and had given back to the locals through her tireless efforts with several charities. She still served at the soup kitchen and ran the church bazaar, and no one even came close to her organizational skills at setting up the annual fish-fry fundraiser for the fire department.

All the girls had to do was approach their Nona with the idea. Encourage her to write her story and say they wanted to help her get to Italy to complete it. Naturally, she wouldn’t have to
write-
write it. They’d arrange for her to record it. Then Rachel would transcribe her words, neatening things up as needed for a smooth literary flow. They’d beg her to go through with it, say they wanted to ensure she left her legacy behind, so they could share the history of their Nona with future generations. Nona was bright enough to know where they were going with this. She might believe the bit about the biography, but she’d more deeply understand that her granddaughters were trying to help. Help her find her way to Sicily—and back to Luigi.
 

The beauty of the memoirs cover story was that it gave Nona an
out,
in case things didn’t go as swimmingly with Luigi as she’d imagined. She could travel there and see for herself how things went between them. If they weren’t meant to be, Nona would have a guaranteed return ticket, and wouldn’t lose face before the town. Nobody would have to know she’d secretly gone to Sicily to reconnect with her long-lost love. That part would remain between her and her granddaughters. Including her ghostwriter, Rachel, who would accompany her on her mission as the logical choice.

The girls would pool their efforts to raise money for Nona’s “research trip.” And, well, if once she’d returned to her homeland she decided to stay…that would be up to her—just as long as she finished her story. Because now that they’d discussed it, the truth was that they wanted it, each and every one of them, to save as a memento. Their main task was raising the cash. They needed to find a product, something to sell. Something that wouldn’t cost too much money to make, but that would be of value to the purchaser. Something useful yet ordinary, the type of household item every family needed. To help keep them organized, all year through. From soccer games to dental appointments, school plays…yes, even the fish fry… If folks needed to know where they had to be and when, first they had to write it down. Record it so they wouldn’t forget or overschedule themselves on the same day. What every well-run home needed was…

“A calendar!” Rachel gave a happy gasp. “Susan, that’s brilliant!”

“Are you saying we should make one?” Emma asked.

Trish eyed them skeptically. “Who uses paper calendars anymore?”

Zoe’s hand shot up, followed by Jane’s. Rachel waved her arm in the air and Lena nodded. Angie pointed toward the kitchen. “Got one in there.”

“Yeah,” Jane said. “Bet it’s filled with Zumba dates.”

“Hush,” Susan told her, before adding, “I keep a paper calendar as well.”

Tiny said, “I got one for Christmas last year, but I’ve never used it.”

“Aha! But you got one, didn’t you?” Haley asked. She addressed Susan next. “I’ve got one, too. I mean I’ve got two of them, one in my apartment and the other at the bakery.”

Claire flipped back her flirty tresses. “Of course, I keep a calendar.” The others often razzed Claire about her high-maintenance hairstyle. She fired right back with self-effacing humor. “Where do you think I keep my salon appointments?”
 

Rachel’s eyes sparkled. “I think that settles it. Almost everyone owns a paper calendar. Even in this modern age.”

“How would we get one printed?” Trish asked.

“I know a place online,” Zoe said. Zoe had all sorts of connections on the Internet. She sold her homemade jewelry through an artsy website. “You just upload your photos, and off you go. It’s very cheap.”

Heads swiveled toward Tiny, who took snapshots for the local paper. She did this as a sideline in addition to her office manager job at a construction company. “You’re good with a camera,” Zoe said. “Plus, you know how to Photoshop.”

Tiny hesitated. “That’s when I know what I’m supposed to take pictures of. Like fishermen down at the docks.”

“We’ll need a more interesting topic than that,” Emma said.

“It would be good to make it fun,” Rachel inserted.

“And personal,” Claire affirmed.

“But not too personal,” Bev said.

“That’s it!” Angie brought her hands to her mouth with a pleased cry.

“What’s it, Angie?” Haley asked her.

Angie stuck out her index finger and pointed to them one by one, working her way around the room as she counted out loud. “Don’t you see? There are twelve of us. Twelve! It’s almost like it was preordained!”

“Are you suggesting we each take a page?” Zoe wondered.

Emma grimaced. “I don’t think I want to be Photoshopped.”

“Come on, Emma,” Claire cajoled.

“Seriously,” Emma said. “I’ve put on, like, twenty pounds in the past two years.”

“Who cares?” Jane admonished. “It’s not all about you.”

Susan blushed shyly. “I’m not sure I want my face connected to a month either.”

Angie set her hands on her hips. “Look, everybody. Either we’re all in, or we’re not. If we can find some kind of unified theme, then it will all work together.”

“A theme?” Tiny asked. “Like holidays or something?”

Jane was decisive but not derisive. “No, not holidays. Something bigger.”

“Covered bridges?” Claire piped in.

Rachel smiled but nodded sadly. “There have been lots of calendars showing those.”

“Rachel’s right,” Trish said, finally coming around. “If we’re going to do this thing and do it right, we’ll have to be different. We’ll need something that will grab folks’ attention.”

Claire clutched her heart, sounding dreamy. “Get them right here.”

“More like in the wallet,” Trish answered.

A slow, subtle grin spread across Susan’s lips. “What about brides?”

The rest of the girls stared at their typically mousy cousin. The only one of them who’d never had a boyfriend, serious or not. “Brides are popular,” Susan continued. “Everybody loves brides and stories about them.”

The rest of them blinked, flabbergasted. “What are you saying, Susan?” Tiny asked. “That we each should take a spot as a calendar bride?”

“But not all of us are married,” Zoe said. “A few…” She avoided Susan and Bev’s eyes. “Don’t even have prospects.”

Haley massaged the back of her neck. “It still could work. We could tell our stories.”

Angie stared at her. “What stories?”

“Our love stories,” Haley answered. “Say something significant about each of them.”

“Those would have to be very short stories to fit onto a calendar,” Rachel observed.

“That’s what I was thinking,” Haley answered. “A hundred and forty characters or less.”

Jane’s mouth hung open. “You’re joking.”

Haley clarified. “I wasn’t suggesting we fit
everything
in a brief log line. That’s only what would go on the calendar page. We could have something more extensive, like a paragraph about each of us, in the back of the calendar.”

“But this is a
brides
calendar, as in weddings,” Lena said. “What about those who…um…haven’t found their princes yet?”

“They can put in what they’re looking for,” Haley answered. “A
someday my prince will come
kind of thing. Just think of it! What great advertising! Even better than MeetYourMatch.com.”

The color drained from Susan’s cheeks. “Maybe I should have thought this whole thing out before suggesting it. It was a bad idea.”

Rachel’s head bobbed with enthusiasm. “No, I think you’re onto something.”

“Where would we get the wedding gowns?” Jane asked practically. “Not everyone has one.”

“I’ve still got mine, but I’m not sure it fits,” Emma said.

Claire had a thought. “Maybe we can get Victor’s Bridal Boutique to cooperate? It’s for a good cause, and will be great promotion for their gowns if they let us borrow a few for our shoot.” Victor was Emma, Claire, and Rachel’s uncle on their mom’s side. He was very big into supporting family, and weddings. He’d given each of the D’Amato brides deep discounts on their gowns, and would surely be willing to help.

“This is sounding really crazy,” Zoe said.

“Yeah,” Tiny agreed. “Crazy like it might work.”

Trish’s complexion glowed beneath her freckles. “We could sell the calendar for twenty bucks. Maybe even have it ready in time for the fish fry. The whole town turns out for that.”

“I could set up preorders online,” Zoe suggested.
 

Lena smiled. “That’s a great idea.”

“Yeah,” Trish agreed, her excitement growing. “And Rachel could blog about it!”

A hush fell over the room as everyone waited.
 

Rachel hesitated, then spoke slowly. “I suppose I could do that. For Nona.”

Emma slid the puppy off her lap. It yawned lazily and looked around. “The blog could give more information than just what’s in the calendars. It could provide background on Nona, and Sicily…”

“Pique people’s interest,” Bev agreed.

Susan’s face lit up. “Lead to lots of early buys.”

Angie fanned her hand across the room and announced dramatically, “The Calendar Brides…”

“I like it,” Haley said.

“Me, too,” Claire agreed.

“Don’t have a guy right now, but I’m in,” Bev added.

“Ditto.” Tiny stopped reaching for the trail mix bowl and met their gazes. “I mean, I
do
have a guy, but I’ll participate.”

“Same here,” Zoe said.

“You gonna marry him?” Jane asked.

Tiny nearly choked on her goldfish and pretzels.
 

Zoe flushed. She’d been with her live-in boyfriend Dillon for three years now, but the “M” word had never come up. “We haven’t exactly talked about it.”

“Mind your own business, Jane!” Susan chided.

“Um, isn’t this kind of my business now? Isn’t it all of ours?”

Emma was playing with the puppy, who was chasing its own tail. “Sounds good to me.” She looked at Jane. “How about you?”

“I thought I already said yes?” The others shook their heads. “Okay, then…” She smiled thinly, but it was evident to the others she was concealing some interest. “Yes.”

“I’ll do it, too,” Haley said. “I still have my dress as well.”

“I’m for it,” Lena said.

“That just leaves…” Angie looked around the room, her eyes landing on Susan. “The one who started it all.”

Susan shrugged, her cheeks burning brightly. “You guys make it pretty hard to say no.” Coming from Susan, that was just as good as acceptance.

Just then, the puppy wandered over to the entertainment cabinet and started sniffing around a stack of DVDs on a lower shelf. “Misty, no!” Emma called after it, scrambling onto all fours to collect the dog. She grabbed the chubby animal around its belly and pulled it back, but not quickly enough to prevent the pup from grabbing something in its mouth. Emma shoved her fingers between the baby dog’s teeth and pulled out what appeared to be a brand new DVD, still in its original shrink-wrap. “Well, what do you know…?” Emma said, waving the DVD back and forth in the air to dry it, “Beginning Zumba!”

Angie strode over and snatched it away. She primly adjusted her ponytail before addressing the others. “So girls, what do you say? Do we have a deal?”

She stared them down one at a time until they cracked smiles.
Her daughters looked over from the corner and grinned, swept up in the celebratory chorus as they all shouted together.
“Deal!”
Then, with a round of high fives, hugs, and happy chatter, they sealed it.
 

Chapter Three

Emma

Donny peered over Emma’s shoulder as she worked at the kitchen table. “‘We met in algebra class, but had instant chemistry’?” he mused. “What’s that mean?”

Emma dropped the pen she’d been using onto the filled legal pad. It had all sorts of scrawl going everywhere, even sideways racing toward the bottom corners of the page. “I’m trying to work, baby. All right?”
 

Donny met her doe eyes, the big brown ones he’d first fallen in love with. But it wasn’t in algebra class. “I think you’re remembering wrong. We met in history.”

“Did not.”

“Did so.”

“It was math.”

“Uh-uh.”

She turned toward him, resting her elbow on the table. “What makes you so sure?”

He smiled warmly. “Do you really think I’d forget that day? You told me I took your seat.”

“Because you did. In
math
class.”

“Who was the teacher?” Donny challenged.

“What?”
 

“The teacher. What was his or her name?”

“How am I supposed to—?”

“Man or woman?”

“It was a man.”

“Exactly.”

Emma blew out a breath and scooted the legal pad aside. “Exactly what?”