Three Weddings and a Dress (15 page)

“You’re kidding me right? You’re getting married not buried.” Katie held her sandwich half-way to her mouth as if the shock was too much and she may choke if she took a bite.

“Yeah. Do you think the guys aren’t going to take Mark to some stripper joint over in Jersey?” Joey inserted.

“Not only would Mark not go to Jersey, I know one of the guys is having the bachelor party at his condo. They’re going to play poker and drink.” Laughter greeted her statement.

“Are you really that gullible, Jessie?” Katie reached across the table, and laid the back of her hand on Jessie’s forehead. “No fever.”

“Ha, ha. I’m not dumb. I’m sure the guys will hire a girl to come in to entertain.”

Joey took a sip from her latte and regarded Jessie. After a few minutes of her friend’s scrutiny, she glared back. “What are you looking at?”

“I’m trying to figure out what’s different about you today.”

“Nothing. I’m in a hurry to get to my next job like always. Mark’s mother is driving me to distraction. And I could go on.” Taking the opportunity, Jessie gulped down a swallow, and bit into her sandwich.

Katie tilted her head to one side. “I think Joey’s right. What happened yesterday?”

Jessie set her food down and thought. To her recollection, nothing special had. A vision of Bella swam over her vision.

Something had happened.

“My mom bought me a Heidi by Design.”

Two chairs slid back in unison, the scrape ricocheted around the room. The sound topped only by her two best friend’s squeals of delight.

Katie actually gasped in air, and then shouted for the entire deli to hear. “You’ve got to be fucking with us.”

In New York most things went without comment. However, at noon in a downtown deli, even those words attracted notice. The manager was at their table in nothing flat.

“Ladies, I’m sorry but you’re disturbing the other customer’s you’ll have to keep your voices down.”

Jessie was relieved they hadn’t been reprimanded for bad language. It was amusing to watch identical blushes wash over her friend’s faces. When was the last time that had happened?

Like never.

“When can we see her? What’s her name?” Katie rushed both questions together.

“Bella.”

Dear Diary;

My new Bride

Jessie Perez, Carla’s daughter was a delight. She even talked to me before she went to bed. Nevertheless, the required zing was still missing. I couldn’t have been more dismayed. Another bride and still no soul mate.

What was a bride dress to do?

Carla came in before leaving for the Wilson’s home. She straightened my chapel train, and made sure I had my protective cover on.

“Bella,” she stated as she ran her hands over and around me, making sure there were no wrinkles. “We can’t have you anything but perfect.”

I wanted to ask her to find out how Cecelia was. That part of my journey was over, even if I could have asked.

Once she was gone, loneliness set in.

I tried to think good thoughts. Like maybe when Jessie finally tried me on, the zing and sizzle Heidi promised would occur signifying Jessie was my soul mate.

After all, we haven’t really been properly introduced yet.

Hours later, I heard someone enter. Only minutes had passed when Carla waltzed through Jessie’s door.

“It’s such a delight to see you, Bella. Jessie will be home soon and we’ll have her try you on. I don’t anticipate there to be a problem.”

“Mom?” Jessie’s question drifted in from the foyer.

“In here darling, come try on Bella.”

Jessie rushed in to join her mother. “I’ve been waiting all day.” She swung her back toward her mother, her feet skipping about. “Hurry unzip.”

Carla gave a pleased laugh. “Hold still, Hija.”

In moments, Jessie was striped and ready to have her mother drape my folds of satin over her. My material slithered over her curves and clung like a glove.

I waited.

No zing. No pop. No sizzle.

Jessie was not my soul mate.

The doorbell rang, I didn’t even have time to mourn the fact before I heard Carla greet another woman and instruct her to follow. Fear dripped down my ribbons, when I saw the expression on Jessie’s face. Whoever was in the other room was not a friend.

Surprise ruffled my ribbons when I learned the woman was Mark’s mother.

“So, this is the dress. Where did you find this rag, in the bargain basement at J.C. Penny’s?”

Shock rattled my beads, and anger tightened my bodice. The heat of Jessie’s fury seared my lace.

How dare that woman? I was a dress with a history, a gown to be proud of. The appearance of hurt reflected in the mirror that crossed my new brides face, soul mate or not, was enough to make me dislike Mark’s mother.

Carla’s jaw looked tight enough to break her teeth. I imagine it was taking all of her will power to answer the rude woman calmly. Before she did, she gathered her daughter to her with one arm. Warmth spread through my bolero.

I have great admiration for Carla.

“Mrs. Taylor. I may have found a deal on this beautiful gown, but it is still a Heidi by Design. We have the certificate to prove it.”

Animosity hung thickly over the room.

I must be the unluckiest gown ever designed by Heidi.

My first bride didn’t want to be married to her groom.

My second bride and groom are crazy about each other, but their families hated each other.
  

Chapter Ten

“We’re late.” Jessie could see their reflection in the large windows as she ran to keep up with Mark’s long strides eating up the sidewalk.
 

“It will be okay. We’re only picking out flowers.”

Jessie laughed a little, Mark was right. It wasn’t as if they were late for their own wedding. In Manhattan the Salon’s clients were probably late more often than on time.

“Arabella Davis sounded like she already had something planned for us.”

“Yes she did. And I know you’re going to like it.” Mark picked her up at the waist and swung her around. A huge grin crossed his handsome face. “I love you Princess, I can’t wait until we’re baking away in Margaritaville.”

Jessie couldn’t help the giggle that slipped out. “I think it’s wasting away, Mark.”

He set her to her feet at the door, pulled it open with a flourish. “Royalty first.”

“You’re late.”

Not the sweet voice of the woman Jessie had spoken with on the phone. Sucking air into her lungs, she squinted trying to focus in the dim indoors.

“Mother, why are you here?” Marks words dashed like cold water over her happiness of just minutes before.

“Someone has to take you two in hand. If you refuse to take my advice and insist on this…” Her head swiveled to encompass the interior of the entry his mother didn’t need to voice her thoughts.

The words were written plainly like an open book across her sour features.

A soft gasp followed her words. Jessie’s vision had adjusted and she saw a young woman standing behind the harridan that was Mark’s
Mother
.

As cheerfully as she could, Jessie stepped around Mrs. Taylor and held out her hand. “You must be Arabella Davis. I’m Jessie Perez and this is my fiancé Mark Taylor.”

Let him introduce his mother.
 

“Nice to meet you both.” She smiled and then glanced uncertainly toward Mark’s mother who stood to the side disapproval radiated from every pour. “And you must be the mother-of-the-groom?”

Thank goodness, she hadn’t mistaken her for Jessie’s mother. The explosion would have rocked the Empire State Building.

The woman loosened up enough to give the girl a quick nod. “Yes I’m Claudia Taylor, Mark’s mother.” She pointedly looked at her watch. “Can we hurry I have a hair appointment.”

It took an iron will but Jessie was very proud of herself for not asking her to leave now then. God bless him, Mark didn’t show any restraint.

“Mother, I told you, we have everything under control.”

“Yes, that’s what I’m afraid of. Which way?” Without waiting, she marched down the hall away from the other three.

“Please tell me she’s headed the wrong way.” Mark’s tone was dry as summer straw.

Arabella gave a short snort before she answered. “She is. Hurry, come follow me.”

Jessie followed the woman in the opposite direction. Mark close on her heals as if wanting to escape before his mother came to a dead end and found her way back.

Arabella wasn’t exactly what Jessie had expected. She dressed like someone out of the 70’s, though the girl was her own age, if not a few years younger. Jessie was jealous of how her blonde hair hung down her back in a loose braid, tendrils escaping everywhere. If Jessie had worn hers that way, it would look as if she hadn’t combed her hair for days, but on Arabella it looked artfully disarrayed.

A long flowing floral skirt and a baby doll top—anyway that’s what her mother would call it—completed the hippy look. Until Jessie saw Arabella’s feet, of all things, she wore floral rain boots. Jessie held in the chuckle threatening to escape.

It wasn’t that she was laughing at the girl, she simply found her delightful.
   

All thoughts of the wedding planner vanished as Jessie stepped through the doorway into the magical kingdom. The beauty caused something around her heart to squeeze. Moisture blurred her vision.

“It’s perfect.”

Though she’d whispered, apparently her words had carried to Arabella. “Everyone loves the Atrium, it’s lovely all year round.”

Mark clasped Jessie’s hand in his, to pull her to the center. “We can have your garden wedding even if it snows. Unlikely this time of year, but you never know.”

Unbridled joy swished around her senses. She clasped her hands around Mark’s giving a gentle squeeze. His chuckle warmed her.

“Oh Arabella, this is… I can’t think of another word. It’s just perfect.”

“Call me Ari.” The shortened name fit her better than Arabella. The girl walked to a small corner where a desk hid behind a large bush. “I’m really sorry Darlene our regular florist isn’t here to go over her ideas. She didn’t want you to catch her cold.”

Jessie stared at the array of blooms around the walled glass. “No I don’t want her cold…” Her words were absent, not really paying attention. She gently touched the velvet petals in every color of the rainbow, seeing the image of her day in its full glory.

Ari gave a warning combination cough and clearing her throat type noise. “Oh, Mrs. Taylor I wondered where you’d gone.”

Jessie spun and there was her soon to be mother-in-law. Or was that dragon-in-law? A flush of temper radiated over the woman’s cheekbones.

This was one unhappy woman.

“How dare you?” Breaths came in soft gasps, her chest raising and falling in sync.