Never the Bride

by Rene Gutteridge

  “What about places? Any places she likes? Perhaps a park?”

  “She’s not fond of the outdoors. Allergies.”

  Oh boy. This is harder than I thought it would be. I try a different angle. “If you had a free Saturday and you told Lila that she could pick whatever she wanted to do that day and you’d do it with her, what would she say?”

  Daniel wads up another flier and moves his feet around like an opponent is nearby. But he’s still clearly thinking about it. Then he stops. “Got it. She’d want to go to the mall. And she’s very picky. Not any mall. She always wants to go to the La Cumbre Plaza.”

  “The mall.” I smile. “The mall. Yeah, we can work with the mall.”

  “We can?” Brooklyn asks. “What’s romantic about a mall?”

  “I can see it in my head. Yeah. This will work. This will work!”

  Brooklyn eyes me, and I can read it on her face. She’s wondering if I really am seeing something or someone that the rest of them are not.

  “Daniel, what’s your couple’s song?”

  “Um…”

  “Something that reminds you of her?”

  “I know. ‘Wild Thing.’”

  I can’t help but smile at this guy. He’s totally confirming why our business is going to thrive. “Trust me, Daniel. That’s not your song. Think love song…something that makes her always want to dance with you.”

  “Okay, gotcha. Um, I’d say ‘Still in Love’ by Brian McKnight.”

  “Excellent.” I fly behind the counter and grab a pencil. “So Saturday’s the day?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right. We’ve got three days to pull off a proposal that she’ll never forget!”

  twelve

  I sort of feel like the wedding coordinator, except I’m the proposal coordinator. It’s Saturday, and Brooklyn and I have walkie-talkies hooked to our hips. Brooklyn is outside the mall, waiting to spot Lila coming in. I’m standing with Daniel in front of Monster Electronics, which is directly across from Sephora. He’s dancing around like he’s on a basketball court, but I read it as excitement. I’ve found the guy dribbles when he’s happy.

  I check my watch. “Okay it’s almost time. Lila should be here any minute. You definitely told her the north entrance, right?”

  “Yeah. She likes that entrance because of the Brass Buckle.”

  “Super. Now, you’ll meet her at the front, and you’ve got a plan to get her here without stopping in a dozen stores on the way?”

  “Yeah. I’m going to tell her there’s a sale on mascara. She’ll head straight here.”

  “Perfect.” I nod to our cameraman, Jake. “Everything set?”

  He pitches a thumbs-up.

  Brooklyn’s voice crackles through the walkie-talkie. “Green Honda Civic spotted. I think it’s her. She’s looking for a place to park.”

  “Brooklyn, tell us when she gets out of her car.” I turn to Daniel. “Okay? You ready?”

  “I, uh…no.”

  “No?”

  “No. I’m not quite ready.”

  “Daniel, it’s time! She’s here! You’re not having cold feet, are you?”

  “I’m just…well, I don’t know what to say. I mean, we’ve got all this fancy stuff set up, and I think I might just, well, just…blow it.”

  I take his shoulders. “Daniel, trust me on this. I’m a professional. Nothing’s going to go wrong. We’ve rehearsed this a dozen times. I’ve got everything ready to roll.”

  “Not you. Me. I don’t think I’m going to live up to all this.” He gestures toward all the big-screen televisions that are about to show Lila the time of her life.

  I suddenly see the problem. I try a calm voice. “Daniel, she’s going to love all of this. It’s going to be a dream come true for her, but what she cares most about is you. If you weren’t here, this wouldn’t mean a thing.”

  “But what do I say? I’m not very good at talking unless it’s about basketball.”

  I put a hand on his chest, over his heart. “This is your moment to tell her exactly how you feel about her. Just pour out your heart, and it will be perfect.”

  He nods. “Okay. I can do that. I don’t have to rhyme, do I?”

  “No poetry needed. Just be yourself.”

  “She’s getting out of the car,” Brooklyn says.

  “Okay! Hurry to the front door of the mall!” I send Daniel off “Brooklyn, she’s headed for the front doors, right?”

  “Yeah!”

  “Okay get back here.”

  I hurry to Roger, who is the salesman in the big-screen television department. He’s holding a remote the size of a small boom box. “Okay, Rog, we’re all set, right?”

  “Yep. Just hit this button and the music starts. Just hit this button and the TVs turn on. Just hit this button and the picture show starts. Just hit this button and the—”

  “All right, so you’re good to go?”

  “Good to go.”

  “On my signal.”

  “Yes ma’am. And afterward, we’re still okay to hand out store coupons?”

  I slap him on the back. “Absolutely. I can’t thank you enough for helping us out.”

  “My pleasure, Miss Stone. I’m a romantic at heart. I took my wife out to a skyscraper, had a candlelight dinner, and proposed.”

  I clutch my heart. “Roger, that’s beautiful.”

  “That was twenty years ago. And we’re still going strong.”

  If I were a cartoon character, my pupils would’ve turned into little hearts. Brooklyn rushes toward me and grabs my arm. “They’re headed this way.”

  “Say a prayer for Daniel,” I whisper. “He’s not sure what he’s going to say to her.”

  Brooklyn’s eyes roll. “Please. A ring says it all, doesn’t it?”

  Maybe to some women. But not to me.

  “Here they come!” Brooklyn claps, alerting Jake and Roger. I hold my hand up. On my cue, the music will start rolling.

  Lila is oblivious. She is holding Daniel’s hand and in the middle of telling some story. Daniel is wide eyed and trying not to look obvious, but I can tell he’s about to burst with anticipation.

  I hide behind one of the fifty-eight-inch televisions. Brooklyn is behind a cardboard cutout of a zebra selling Dish TV. They’re just about to the store when I cue the music.

  It’s louder than it would normally be for the store, and this immediately catches Lila’s attention. She stops right at the entrance and looks at Daniel. “Babe, it’s our song!” She’s clutching her heart. She does a little twirl in his arms and laughs. I cue the picture montage, and as she swings back around, she spots herself on the television screen. “Hey!” She gasps. “Hey! That’s…that’s us!”

  Daniel wraps his arms around her as they watch the pictures. Lila is covering her mouth, and before we know it, a small crowd has gathered, sensing something spectacular is about to go down.

  I signal to Roger to slowly lower the volume of the music.

  As the pictures come to an end, Daniel turns to Lila and takes her hand. “Lila Suzanne, I’ve loved you since the day I met you in Mrs. Collins’s class in third grade.” Crowd coos. Lila’s eyes go moist. “You know, when you glued my sleeve to the desk. I knew then I’d want you to be my wife. Well, okay, not really. I mean, I liked you a lot, as much as a third-grade boy can like a girl.”

  I’m grimacing. Come on, Daniel, don’t get sidetracked.

  Daniel takes her other hand. “To tell you the truth, the day I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you was when you brought in that eighty-piece bucket of hot wings for me and the guys when we were watching the game on TV. I mean, that was incredible. You’re incredible. You’re the swish in my jump shot, baby.”

  Lila giggles, which seems to make Daniel choke up with emotion.

  “Now,” he says, “and for the rest of my life, I choose you. I hope you will choose me.” He gets down on one knee and opens the small black box. “So?”

  If you weren’t
watching the situation and you heard the scream, you’d probably call 911. After curdling the blood of five dozen mall shoppers, Lila pulls Daniel up, jumps into his arms, and kisses his forehead over and over. “Yes! Yes! Absolutely!”

  Fifteen televisions show the moment as the cameraman zooms in on Lila’s hand. Daniel slides the glittering (and quite elegant, if I do say so myself) ring onto her finger. She admires it for a moment, but just as I predicted, she’s caught up in him.

  The mall crowd explodes with cheers. They are loving every bit of this romance. I watch Brooklyn as she makes her way around, passing out business cards. That’s my girl.

  Daniel and Lila kiss, sealing the deal and causing tears to sting my eyes. The electronics department is suddenly closing in on me, and I swear I see an electrical cord move my direction; I slowly back away and find an exit door.

  Busting through it, I march forward with my head down, breathing in and out until my head doesn’t feel light. Nearby I hear a fountain. I walk to it and sit down, letting the water lightly spray my skin. I pretend I’m at the ocean.

  I don’t have to open my eyes to know He’s there. I’m starting to sense Him nearby even when I can’t see Him. I keep my eyes shut, because I know if I open them, a whole lot of tears are going to come rolling out.

  “I don’t want to be that person,” I say.

  “What person?”

  “The one that hurts every time I see someone else get what I want.”

  “Why is this so important to you?”

  I open my eyes and let the tears dribble down my cheek. I don’t bother wiping them. It’s no use. I am that person, and a beautiful young woman named Lila got what I’ve always wanted. The irony, of course, is that I’m the one who made it all come true for her.

  Well, okay, Daniel was involved a little too.

  “You read minds,” I say. “Don’t You already know the answer to why this is so important to me?”

  “I need you to know. Say it.”

  Say it. I don’t know that I’ve ever said it, outside my journal anyway.

  I finally look at Him, look Him in the eye like He’s always looking into mine.

  “I want to know that I’m going to be somebody’s choice.” I sniffle. “I’d like to know when I’m going to be somebody’s choice.”

  A woman walks by and gives me a look. “What?! Never seen a girl talk to herself before?”

  “Try your earpiece,” God whispers.

  “Why are You whispering?” I whisper back. “Nobody can hear You, remember?” But He does have a good idea. I throw my cell phone earpiece in.

  “I know how you feel,” God says. He sits down beside me on the edge of the fountain.

  “Yes. You read minds. We’ve established that.”

  “Jessie.” He touches my arm. It throws me a little. I don’t recall Him ever touching me before. It’s like warmth and coolness all at the same time, like when you’re at the lake and the top of the water is warm and the bottom is cool. “I know how you feel.”

  The tears drip again. “You are trying to win over the entire world, so I hear. I’m asking for just one person to love me. One. Is it really that hard for You to write?”

  “No.”

  I stand up. “I mean, out of the seven billion people in this world, You can’t find one who can see me?”

  “That’s six billion, nine hundred eighty-six million, three hundred fifty-four thousand, and two. Wait. Three.” He reaches down to touch the water.

  “Funny.”

  “And over half of those are women. Fourteen percent of men fall within a ten-year age span of you.” He scoops some water in His hand and lets it drip slowly back into the fountain. “But when I factor in at least one-third of what you think you need, that really narrows down the choices, especially when you consider how many men have no idea they’re dripping liquids everywhere, and if they did know, they wouldn’t clean it up.”

  I sit down again and lean toward Him. “Aren’t You known for defying, not defining, the odds?”

  He smiles. “I’m simply shooting straight with you.”

  “So. Basically, it’s impossible.” I yank the earpiece out. At this point I don’t care who sees me talking. “I just want…I want to walk into a home, see it filled with crazy in-laws, cousins, uncles, aunts, grandparents. Even if they’re all bickering with one another, talking over themselves, a few kids of my own thrown in and a—”

  “Jessie!”

  I don’t move a muscle but glance sideways. There is no—NO—mistaking that voice. The way he always used to put a little extra hiss in my s’s.

  “Jessie Stone?”

  I brace myself and turn.

  “Clay Matthews.” Clay, Clay, Clay. Clay who broke my heart. Clay who seems to be in all my nightmares. Clay who is looking perfectly gorgeous at the moment. A smile pops onto my face like my brain had to slingshot it there.

  He opens his arms. “In the flesh. I just saw your sister inside. She told me you guys have a business, something about helping people put together marriage proposals…”

  “Yeah, we do.”

  “Well, how are you? It’s been…how long?” He comes in for a hug, but we both lean to the same side, then to the other side. Finally we manage it. I start to pat him as if he has shingles. He’s squeezing me like I’m citrus.

  “Yeah, it’s been a while.” I know to the day how long it’s been.

  “How’ve you been?” he asks.

  How have I been? Hmm. Well, after having my heart ripped to shreds, I’ve recovered quite nicely and am now having conversations with God. “Great. Great. Life couldn’t be more—”

  I’d almost forgotten He was there, but I sense Him hovering behind me like a jealous boyfriend. Of course, I can’t say anything because then I’d look like life wasn’t going well and I was talking to imaginary things. That’s not the impression you want to give an ex. Not too many times in life are you lucky enough to give an ex any kind of impression, but here I am, business owner, dressed nicely, obviously pulled together. I’m even wearing makeup. Clay seems to notice. He’s stepping back and taking me in.

  “You look terrific.”

  I don’t know whether to twirl or gag. “Thanks.”

  He grabs my hand. “Hey, I am so glad I ran into you—”

  “Yeah. Me too.” I feel my face grow hot.

  He gets an excited, nervous look on his face. “I want to hire you to help set up my proposal to Gwyne. Remember Gwyne?”

  I tip backward a little. Thankfully, two unseen hands steady me.

  “I’m sorry…Gwyne?” I’m a horrible liar, especially with God standing right behind me, but I give it my best shot.

  “She’s tall, blond—”

  I hold up my hand to stop him. “Oh yes. Of course. Gwyne.”

  He nods. “Yes, well, I want to propose, and I want it to be spectacular, but I’m just not the kind of guy that can come up with stuff like that.”

  “I know—I mean, sure. Most men aren’t. That’s why we’re in business.” But it’s true: Clay was the least creative man I’d ever dated. Still, no need to make him feel small and pathetic.

  But I want to.

  Clay meets us at the shop Monday at noon. He wanted to visit that same day—he’s anxious and eager, which stings even more—but I put him off Clay never seemed anxious or eager as far as we were concerned.

  Brooklyn is busy flirting with another customer she is supposed to be helping plan a dream proposal. Malia’s noticing too, and we keep an eye on it. But sitting across from me at a side table right now is Clay, who is leaning forward, tapping his foot, and looking like he’s about to detonate.

  I’ve got a pad of paper in front of me and am holding a pencil, jotting notes mostly for something to do, because so far we haven’t even talked about the proposal. Clay’s been catching me up on his life. Whoopee. “Okay well, I know you’re anxious to get back to your lovely bride-to-be, so tell me what Gwyne likes. What is she into?” Besides steal
ing boyfriends.

  “Me.” He grins.

  An eye roll is begging me, but I resist.

  “No, um, seriously,” he says, “I’d say boats. Gwyne loves boats and the water.”

  “Okay, that’s good. We can work with that. We have a special deal with the city to use piers on weeknights.” Well, not yet. I’m working on it. But it sounds good.

  Clay’s face lights up. “Oh, wow, that sounds unbelievable. Yes, I can see it. That could be amazing!”

  “But the fees are high.” I have no idea, but I should probably ask for a lot of money in case I need to bribe somebody.

  “Money doesn’t matter. She’s worth it. Every penny.” His day-dreamy eyes are suddenly on me. “Jess, this is so…”

  Jess? Now it’s Jess? I lean forward. “What?”

  “You, me. Here like this. And it’s not weird. It’s like these past couple of years haven’t gone by.”

  “Three.”

  Clay puts an affectionate hand on mine, and now Malia’s keeping an eye on me. I ignore her and attend to my customer.

  “Well, what are friends for?” I smile.

  “Yeah.” He smiles back, and I remember why I fell for him. That smile undid me the first time I saw it. But I keep myself guarded. All this enthusiasm is for a woman I got dumped for, so really, I don’t have much to smile about.

  Except I’m getting ready to make some good money off him.

  I’m smiling again.

  Suddenly my cell phone beeps, indicating I have a text message, and to my ever-grateful ego, also a life, in case Clay was wondering.

  DITCH THE SLIMY PUNK AND LET’S GO PLAY.

  I laugh hysterically when I read it, because it’s very funny—though if it had been a reminder to pay my bill, I would’ve laughed anyway just to seem like I had a fun life. I manage to glance out the window. There is Blake, making a face through the glass.

  thirteen

  I’m sitting on the beach, on a blanket that Blake has provided, watching the tide sweep the sand. I’m reminded as I sit here that there are perks to owning your own business. You can take off in the middle of the day and come to the beach. It’s not as crowded as the weekend, and I am enjoying my little space on the sand.