Every Girl Gets Confused

by Janice Thompson

  I tried not to make too much of that as I drove. Surely he’d spent the day with his mom, Madge, and Stan, as they’d planned. No doubt they’d filled up on turkey, watched the game, and then napped the rest of the day away.

  Hopefully.

  Right now I had to carry on with the show and put on the best bridal extravaganza the city of Dallas had ever seen. Brady was counting on me. Nadia was counting on me.

  Everyone was counting on me.

  Ack.

  The ringer went off over my Bluetooth speaker and I pushed the button on my steering wheel. “Hello?”

  “It’s Aunt Alva, honey. You left me behind. I’m still in Fairfield.”

  I bit back a laugh. “Alva, we already discussed this, remember? You’re coming back with Dewey later in the day. He agreed to come and help us get the shop put back together after the event.”

  “For pity’s sake. I’ve been sitting here at Queenie’s for an hour, dressed and ready, wondering why you didn’t come and fetch me. I could’ve slept in.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I wanted to help you at your big shindig.”

  “Not a good idea, Aunt Alva, though I appreciate your willingness. For one thing, it’s freezing outside. And for another, it’s mostly physical labor—setting up tables, hauling things around, that sort of thing. Just rest and then come with Dewey later in the morning. He’ll fetch you around nine, so be ready.”

  “Well, I’m ready now. Not sure what I’ll do with myself between now and then.” Off in the distance I heard Queenie’s voice ring out. “Oh, never mind, honey,” Alva said. “Queenie wants to visit with me about wedding plans. I’m going to be the maid of honor, you know.” At that, she clicked off.

  Goodbye, Alva.

  I arrived at Cosmopolitan at exactly 5:00 a.m., just in time to see the tent go up. I had a quick conversation with the man in charge of that process to make sure he’d brought enough tables for all of the vendors. After I quickly breezed through the tent, I was able to set up a plan for where those tables should be placed. The first vendor arrived minutes later, wedding cake in hand. I panicked as she almost dropped the magnificent four-tiered number with its gorgeous rosettes.

  “Don’t worry,” she hollered out. “It’s not a real cake. They’re all dummies.”

  I felt like a dummy myself right about now. Why hadn’t I remembered to bring my camera to photograph all of this?

  Her table was put into place and she went to work, covering it with a cloth and placing some of the most beautiful faux cakes I’d ever seen on it.

  The photographer arrived next with all sorts of framed photos and slide shows to display. He agreed to capture some shots of the day and send them to me in exchange for a plug in our next catalog.

  Next came the hair designer. Then the guy with the chocolate fountain. Then the makeup gal. Then a fellow who provided specialty balloons and other fun novelty items for weddings. Then the dance instructor. One by one their tables were set up and decorated. I watched over everything, calling out orders as needed.

  Shivering all the while.

  At 5:25 Madge arrived with Stan, who offered to help finish setting up tables. Interesting that they’d come together. She headed inside the store to help Twiggy and Beau, who had breezed by me while I helped set up the chocolate fountain. Finally convinced the vendors were okay to wrap up without me, I headed inside.

  The next hour was spent finalizing the layout of the store inside while the tables were being set up outside. At 6:00 Nadia and Brady arrived. He hobbled into the store on crutches, carrying on about how great the tent looked.

  I rushed his way, greeting him with a kiss. “What are you doing here, Brady?” I waggled my finger at him. “You’re supposed to be resting.”

  “You didn’t really think he would miss this, did you?” Nadia shrugged off her designer coat and slung it over her arm. “Surely you know him better than that.”

  “No way would I miss it.” Still, my sweet guy looked bleary-eyed. He yawned. “Too much turkey. Not a good idea to eat turkey when you’re already on pain medication. The combination is deadly.”

  “I’m sure. Why don’t you pull up a chair and supervise?”

  “Gladly.” He yawned again.

  Stan arrived with a chair from the studio, which he placed off to the side of the room. “Perfect spot to referee the game.”

  Brady grimaced as he took a seat.

  “It’s going to be a great day.” I offered a bright smile.

  “Yep. Hopefully it’ll turn things around in the media.” Madge continued working, never missing a beat.

  “This whole media thing is just a season anyway, Madge,” I said. “They love a sensational story and that bride gave them one. We’re going to undo it in just a few short hours. Watch and see.”

  “Short hours?” Dahlia barreled our way. “What’s this about short hours? I know nothing of these words.”

  “True, true,” I said. “Just for the record, Dahlia, you and your team can do your usual thing in the studio while we take care of the extravaganza.”

  “And miss all the fun?” Her eyes widened in mock horror. “Never! I’ll go back and forth, if you don’t mind. I don’t want to miss out. Besides, Eduardo is going to supervise in the studio. The others know what to do. I want to help out front—it will make me feel normal again.” She rubbed her stomach. “If anyone could possibly feel normal after eating so much turkey.”

  I wanted to ask how her Thanksgiving had gone but didn’t have time. She’d been noticeably absent from our get-together yesterday, after all. No doubt Madge had talked her into spending the day with them at Aunt Alva’s. I wondered how she would feel about seeing Dewey when he came in a few hours. Maybe it would be better not to tell her just yet.

  Hibiscus and Jane arrived moments later, ready to roll.

  “Katie, that vendors’ area is amazing.” Hibiscus clutched her hands to her chest. “I felt like I was at a real wedding! Everyone was there.”

  Jane cocked her head. “Yeah, and the guests will soon be barreling through the door. What time do we kick this thing off?”

  “Eight.”

  “Tell that to the brides who are already lined up outside,” Jane said. “We need someone to keep them out of the tent.”

  “Ack.” Why hadn’t I hired security?

  Turned out Nadia had. The security guard rolled up at 6:30 to hold back the flow of anxious brides. I gave Nadia a huge hug and thanked her from the bottom of my heart.

  “Happy to be of service.” She gave me a little wink. “Now, go do what you do.”

  The next half hour was spent putting the finishing details on things and visiting with the brides, who were about to take the security guard down for not letting them through. By 7:00, I knew we were going to have a glorious day. Every sign pointed to it. And Brady and Nadia seemed to think so too, based on their upbeat chatter.

  “This is going to be the best thing that ever happened to the wedding community in Dallas,” Brady said.

  “And we have Katie to thank.” Nadia gave me an encouraging smile, which served to invigorate me.

  “You’re welcome. But let’s don’t celebrate just yet. What if the media doesn’t show up? The reporter from the Tribune was supposed to be here at seven, but there’s no sign of him. Or her.”

  I stopped sweating five minutes later when he finally arrived. “Sorry,” he said. “I think I ate too much turkey yesterday. It messed up my brain.”

  “Tryptophan,” Madge said. “Gets you every time.”

  “I have no idea what that means,” the reporter said, “but I’ll take your word for it.”

  By 7:30 the coffee was hot, the one real wedding cake was ready to be sliced, a large bowl of punch was filled to the brim, Nadia was greeting her guests right and left, and the vendors were finalizing their stations.

  “We have our own bridal extravaganza.” I grinned. “Maybe we’ll make this a yearly Black Friday event. What do you think, Br
ady?”

  “I think you’ve saved the day once again, Katie. And did you see that WFAA sent a camera crew? Now we just have to pray that brides will keep coming.”

  “Keep coming? To an event that offers free and deeply discounted wedding goods? Trust me, Brady, they’ll show up.”

  And show up they did. We hadn’t counted on the massive parking dilemma this event would cause. With the tent taking up so much space, there was no room for the customers to put their vehicles. I made a quick dash to El Burrito, the Mexican restaurant next door, and asked permission to use their space. They agreed, as long as we allowed them to set up a breakfast taco table in the tent. The customers loved it and swarmed them.

  Inside we had the time of our lives. I’d never had so much fun. Every fifteen minutes we pulled another number from the hat to announce a winner. By the time eleven o’clock rolled around we’d given away ten gowns, ten pairs of shoes, ten veils, ten free alterations—Dahlia would kill me for that one—and ten tuxedo rentals. We’d also sold thirty-seven off-the-rack wedding gowns, eight veils, two dozen pairs of shoes, and approximately twenty bridesmaid dresses, all marked down for Black Friday. Nadia was beside herself.

  Just as we were wrapping up the giveaways, Alva and Dewey showed up. Dahlia, who’d been present in the shop for most of the morning, disappeared into her studio the minute she saw my brother. I could tell it affected his emotional state, but he buried his troubles in hard work, helping us clean up the mess after the extravaganza ended.

  I headed outside to the tent to thank the vendors for their participation, offering each of them a gift card for a free lunch at El Burrito. We also gave them our assurance that they would be our go-to vendors when brides asked for a list. All in all, everyone left content and happy.

  “All’s well that ends well,” Twiggy said when I arrived back inside. “I’m exhausted, but that was a blast.”

  “No kidding. Best day ever.” Madge took a look at the store and sighed. “So glad we shut it down at eleven, though.”

  “We’ll keep the sale going through Monday,” Nadia said.

  “And I’m sure we’ll still have customers coming through today looking for sale items,” I added, “so let’s make sure those are near the front of the store, the first thing they see when they come in.”

  Madge nodded, then called everyone to attention. “People, we’ve got a lot of work to do. Remember all of those dresses we pulled into the back room? We’ve got to get them back out here. And I’ll need a couple of you to police the parking lot while that tent is coming down to make sure our customers make it inside without getting knocked upside the head by a tent post.”

  “I’m here to help,” Dewey said.

  “Me too,” Beau added.

  The next three hours were spent whipping Cosmopolitan Bridal back into shape. Brady supervised from a chair off to the side of the room. Several times I caught him trying to lift or lug something and I chastened him and made him sit back down. Nadia scolded him a couple of times too, but he didn’t seem to be taking the hint from either of us.

  Finally I came to stand next to him, so tired I could barely think straight. That was when I noticed something peculiar going on at the register.

  “Well, look at that, why don’t you.”

  “What?” Brady asked.

  I pointed to the register where Madge was helping a customer. Standing at her side, his smile as wide as the Rio Grande, Stan rang up the customer.

  “Very suspicious.” I narrowed my gaze and tried to make sense of what I saw. Why would Stan be helping Madge, and who had taught him to use the cash register?

  “What’s suspicious?” Brady gazed at the two behind the counter, who seemed to be in deep conversation after the customer left.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I asked. “I mean, it seems impossible, but then again, God delights in doing the impossible.”

  “Please.” Brady laughed. “Are you really telling me that you haven’t known about this? Whatever happened to a woman’s intuition?”

  “What are you saying, Brady?”

  He shook his head. “I’m saying that Stan and Madge have been crazy about each other for more than two years. They’ve fought it every step of the way, but they’re nuts about each other. And I’m completely gobsmacked that you didn’t pick up on it. Seriously?”

  “Wow.” I couldn’t believe it. “Wow, wow, wow.”

  Wow was right. But the proof was in the pudding, as Queenie always said.

  I watched as Madge looked around the room and, finding it empty of customers, slipped into Stan’s open arms. Seconds later they were kissing. So much for no PDA in the store. The bell above the door rang out, alerting them to the fact that a customer had entered. They backed up and busied themselves once more as if nothing had happened.

  “I’m . . . I’m . . .” The words refused to come. I thought I might just be seeing things. I finally managed to eke out, “I’m shocked.”

  “I’m not,” Brady said. “They might not talk about it, but those two are meant to be together.”

  “But they’re as different as night and day,” I argued. “They disagree on . . . everything.”

  “Not everything.” Brady grinned and gestured with his head.

  I glanced at Madge and Stan, who stole another kiss while the customer wasn’t looking.

  “Well, there you go.” I turned back, shaking my head. “I can truly say I’ve seen everything now.”

  “Not quite everything.” Alva’s voice sounded behind me.

  I turned to face her and realized she wasn’t alone. Twiggy stood next to her. “What do you mean, Auntie?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “If you ever see a fella hanging off my arm, then you can say you’ve seen everything. But I wouldn’t go looking for that just yet. I gave up on the idea of romance a long time ago.”

  “I think a lot of us did,” Twiggy said. “I was starting to wonder if I’d ever find Prince Charming. Then Beau showed up.”

  “Yes, but you’re, what—twelve? I’m in my eighties.”

  “I’m twenty-seven, thank you very much.” Twiggy’s lips curled up in a smile. “But it felt like years and years before I found someone.”

  “Time is relative,” Brady said.

  “Unless you’re old.” Alva shook her head. “When you’re old, time is not relative. It’s anything but.” Her nose wrinkled. More than usual. “Anyway, forget I said anything. It’s all right. I’m set in my ways. No room in my house for a man.”

  “If he does show up, you might want to change the drapes in the lavender room.” Brady flashed her a playful smile. “Just saying.”

  “What’s wrong with my grape drapes? They’re lovely.”

  “Right, right.” Brady wrapped his arms around her. “If you’re seriously looking for a man, we’ll keep our eyes open. You’d be surprised how many brides come in with fathers in their golden years.”

  “Golden years, my eye. I need someone in his platinum years. And such a fella doesn’t exist.”

  “You never know, Aunt Alva. Look at Reverend Bradford. Er, Pap-Paul Bradford.”

  “He’s the exception, not the rule.” She turned on her heels and headed to the ladies’ room, hollering, “This old bladder waits for no one!”

  “One day some lucky guy is gonna get a real prize in her.” Brady’s words seemed teasing, but I could read the seriousness in his eyes. “She’s one of the greatest women I’ve ever known.”

  “Do you think she really wants a husband, though?” I asked.

  Brady shrugged. “I would imagine she gets a little lonely sometimes. Her faith is strong and she doesn’t seem like the needy sort, so it’s probably more of an occasional thought than a deep longing.”

  I thought about that before responding. “But wouldn’t it be fun if God surprised her?”

  “He can do it.” Twiggy let out a little squeal. “We should all pray.”

  We turned to look at her.

  “No
, really. There’s power in prayer, right? We should all pray that if God has someone for Alva, he will appear right out of the blue. It could happen.”

  “Well, yes, but . . .”

  “I for one believe in miracles,” Twiggy said. “I think we watched one happen today, in fact. So if God cares enough about our bridal shop to make sure we have a terrific day, surely he cares enough about Alva to bring her the perfect man.”

  Okay then.

  About three minutes later, Madge approached. “Hey, Katie, can you come up front for a few minutes? You know that Sanders girl, the one from San Antonio? They’ve sent her grandfather to pick up her veil. Poor old guy seems clueless. Want to come help him?”

  “How old?” Twiggy asked.

  “What does he look like?” Dahlia added.

  Madge looked back and forth between them. “Too old for the likes of you. And besides, I thought you already had fellas.”

  “No, not for us.” Twiggy laughed. “But I’ve got to see this for myself. My goodness, the Lord surely moves fast when we pray!”

  I didn’t think this would be an appropriate time to remind her that we hadn’t even prayed yet. If she thought the elderly man at the front of the store was Alva’s Prince Charming, so be it.

  Before I could head up to the register, some commotion in the hallway caught my attention. Alva had come out of the restroom, wrestling with her girdle. When she turned around I noticed some of the fabric from her dress was hung up in her undergarments in the back. I gestured for her to fix it and she backed her way to the restroom once more.

  “If Prince Charming is in the store, we need to get Cinderella ready for the ball,” Twiggy whispered. “Maybe I could convince her to put on a little lipstick?”

  “Nah.” I shrugged. “If it’s meant to be, he’ll see beyond all of that.”

  “Seriously?” Dahlia paled. “Well, I suppose that’s one school of thought.”

  I walked to the front of the store with my aunt in tow to visit with Mr. Everett Sanders of the San Antonio Sanderses. Before long we were engaged in conversation, not about wedding tiaras but about basketball. He was a huge basketball fan just like the others in his family. This, of course, bonded him to Alva at once, who had apparently forgotten the family’s leanings. On and on they went, talking about basketball.