I stood there, right inside the doorway, speechless.
Annie gave me a little nudge. “Go on. I don’t want to get eaten by a bear out here.”
I stepped aside so she could come in. “Oh, Annie. This is unreal.”
“Isn’t it? It was all Logan’s idea. He’s pretty perfect, huh?”
I looked around, taking it all in. “Yeah. I guess he is, isn’t he?”
“Sorry I can’t give you a real bachelorette party. But this will be fun, too, in its own way.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s fantastic. I couldn’t have dreamed of anything better.” I walked over and skimmed my hand over the tulle skirt on one of the dresses.
“Knock, knock.” Sara poked her head in. “Room for one more?”
“Of course! Come on in,” I waved her in and she stepped inside, closing the door behind her.
“Well, what do you think?” Sara beamed.
“When did you do all this?” I asked.
“When you were in the house getting ready for the rehearsal. Remember when you saw the truck out the bathroom window?”
I nodded, and a pang of guilt went through me as I recalled the way my heart leapt when I thought Thatcher was back. I pushed the thought away.
“Well,” Sara said, “we had a few friends helping Jake bring everything in from town. It almost blew the surprise when you saw them, but luckily I’m a fast talker.” She picked up a pastry and took a bite, looking pleased with herself.
“I still can’t believe it.” I shook my head.
“Well you better start believing it,” Annie said, “because it’s dress time. Are you up for a little shopping?”
“Yes. Very much so. You picked these?”
She nodded.
“They’re gorgeous. They’re exactly what I would have picked. How did you know?”
“I’ve been listening to you plan your wedding for the past five years.” She rolled her eyes and walked over to the first dress. “I know you love lace, so that’s a given. From there, we have three options. First”—she gestured to the full-skirted strapless dress on the left—“we have the classic ball gown. A beaded lace bodice with a tulle skirt and appliqué detail at the hem.”
“Beautiful,” I said. “You sound like an expert, by the way.”
“I am an expert. I’ve been living and breathing wedding dresses for the past week. And next”—she took a step toward the center dress, another strapless gown—“we have a more simple, A-line silhouette. This is organza with a lace overlay.”
“Lovely.” It was also fabulous, but I held out for the next dress, the one that caught my eye from the second I stepped into the cottage and saw it there.
Annie seemed to be holding out for it, too. When she stepped over to the last dress, her face lit up and she made a grand show of displaying the dress, like a game show spokesperson. “And last but not least, my personal favorite. A vintage silk charmeuse-and-lace gown. A keyhole back and cap sleeves with scalloped detail. Isn’t it stunning?”
“That’s it,” I said. “It’s the one.”
The other dresses were bright white, but this one was a subdued ivory color. Its skirt fell close to the body, and the intricate lace detailing gave the dress the perfect touch of femininity. It was elegant, yet somehow still appropriately simple for the vineyard setting.
Annie smiled. “I thought you might like it. Well, I hoped you would, anyway.”
Sara watched us from her seat at the table. I turned back to look at her.
“Do you like it?”
Her eyes glistened. “It’s hands-down the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.”
“Well let’s put it on, then!” Annie went to work closing the curtains over the windows, and then removed the dress from its form. She held it low to the ground for me so I could step in.
I stood there, staring at the dress. This was it. I was about to step into my wedding gown. Not only my wedding gown, but my future. My future with Logan. My perfect life.
I squinted and concentrated on the lace pattern of the dress. My perfect life. It didn’t feel like it right now. Perhaps it was because nothing about the moment felt real. Or maybe it was something else. Maybe it was…
“Tess?” Annie was looking up at me, concerned. “You okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You spaced out for a while.”
Had it been that long? It seemed like a second or two.
“Sorry. I’m back.” I took a deep breath and stepped into the dress. Annie lifted it up around me, and I pulled my orange dress off over my head. She helped me put my arms in place and then fastened the keyhole back and zipped the dress up. Sara let out a squeal from her seat in the corner.
Annie walked around me to get a view of the dress from the front. She stepped back, tilting her head to the side and squinting. Then, she walked around me again, in a full circle, examining every detail with a critical eye. When she was finished, she held me by the shoulders and turned me to face the full-length mirror.
“Take a look,” she said.
I caught my reflection in the mirror and had to touch the dress to be sure it was real. Yes, it was real all right. There I was, in my wedding dress. And it was more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. I turned around and craned my neck to get a view of the dress from the back, and then the side. It was gorgeous from every angle.
“Well?” Annie’s voice broke through the silence. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s perfect. This is it. This is my wedding dress.”
Sara got up from her chair and came over to me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders in an embrace from behind. She touched her cheek to mine. “You look amazing, Tess. Pretty as a picture.”
“She’s right. You couldn’t find anything better if you looked for a year.” Annie disappeared for a moment and returned carrying an ivory birdcage veil attached to a vintage hair-comb. “Here’s what I was thinking for this dress.” She slid the comb into my hair so the birdcage fell into place right over my eyes. “You like?”
“I love.”
“Yeah,” Annie said. “Me too.”
“Sara?” I turned to her for approval.
“Me three,” she said.
I turned back to the mirror and gazed at my reflection. There. I could see it now. There stood the woman I worked so hard to become. The perfect job, the perfect man, the perfect dress; my life was back on track.
All I ever wanted was right here.
Everything was as it should be.
CHAPTER 33
I stared up at the ceiling with wide eyes listening to Annie snoring in bed next to me.
There was no way I was going back to sleep. After deciding on a dress, I drifted off for an hour or so, but I awoke with the startling sensation that something wasn’t right. I couldn’t quite place it at first. And then it hit me. The memories from last night came flooding back, and I felt nauseous.
What had I said? What had I done? What had I agreed to?
This happened to me once before, going to sleep and then waking up wishing I could take something back. But never before had I felt so panicked. Last night was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
He came to me in a dream, during the short time in which my body allowed me to escape into sleep.
Thatcher.
Seeing him there, thinking he was back, that he was real, gave me an overwhelming sense of warmth and peace. It was clear as could be. I was in love with him. I was in love with the big picture of him, and the little details of him. Like the way he was so humble once you got to know him. Or the way he winked at me. Or the way he wasn’t afraid to be himself, even if it meant walking around in dirty jeans and an old baseball cap. I was in love with the way he saw me, and challenged me to look at things in a different light.
I was in love with him. And even though it was over now, the fact that I’d been in love with him meant I wasn’t in love with Logan. Not in the same way, at least. Here in the darkness, I knew it to be
true. For years, I was in love with the idea of Logan. I was in love with him on paper. His stability, his well-bred background. The way he looked next to me in pictures. I was in love with the perfect life I imagined us having together. But I never realized how much I was missing. Not until I came here; not until I met Thatcher.
In my dream, this was so simple. I felt such calmness, such certainty. I was happy. And then I woke up to the truth: Thatcher was gone. Logan was here. I was getting married tomorrow. I looked at the clock on the nightstand. No, I was getting married today.
I sat up straight in the bed, my thoughts racing. I needed to talk to someone.
“Annie.” I jostled her, but she didn’t respond. “Annie, wake up. I need you.”
“I’ll have the chicken,” she mumbled, and rolled over onto her stomach.
I sighed. She was no help.
My heart was restless, and I knew what I needed to do. I peered at Annie for a long moment to be sure she was asleep. I wasn’t going to pray out loud, but still. There was something so vulnerable about the whole thing. I didn’t want her to wake up and catch me.
She was motionless in the bed, her breathing slow and steady. I pulled my feet up and hugged my legs, resting my forehead on my knees.
God?
I lifted my head and glanced at Annie one last time before I continued.
Tess, here. Yeah, I know… it’s been forever. I don’t have an excuse for why you haven’t heard from me. Well, actually I have a lot of excuses. I just don’t have a good one.
Jake was right. I’ve lost my faith. I don’t know when it happened, but he’s right. What’s with him, by the way? Is he my guardian angel or something?
On second thought, don’t answer that. I mean, please don’t answer that.
I feel so… awkward. I don’t even know how to talk to you anymore. I’m sorry for being gone so long. But I’m ready to come back now, if you’ll still have me.
The thing is… I’ve gotten myself into a bind. And I have no idea what to do about this wedding. I shouldn’t have tried so hard to do everything on my own, I see that now. But I did. And here we are.
I know I don’t deserve it, but could you give me a sign? Preferably something really obvious? And soon? I’m so lost. I need you to tell me what to do. Please.
Once I finished praying, I forced myself to sit perfectly still for a long time. But in the end I couldn’t fight the urge to do something. My legs were twitchy. I needed to get out of here. I needed talk to someone.
I threw the covers off and felt the coolness of the wood floor under my feet. It was two in the morning, and there was only one person on earth I could count on at this hour.
I tiptoed out the front door of the cottage and stepped outside. My bare feet made a soft pattering sound as I trotted along the path and looked around for some sort of sign – a message written in the stars, or perhaps a burning bush. But all I saw were shadows. When I got to the main house I climbed up the wooden steps of the small balcony off of Sara and Jake’s bedroom.
I tapped on the glass of their window with my index finger. “Jake,” I whispered. Tap, tap, tap. “Jake. Wake up.”
In seconds, he was at the window.
“Tessy?”
“Can I come in?”
He disappeared behind the curtain, and I heard the sound of the back door opening a moment later. I dashed down the steps to meet him.
“Get in here,” he said.
“Thanks.” I walked inside.
“Tessy, what are you doing up? It’s two in the morning.”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep. I need to talk.”
“I figured as much.” Jake sighed and turned on the light in the kitchen. “I was up listening for you.”
“You were?”
He nodded. “You want some tea?”
“Yeah.” I sat down on a stool and rubbed my eyes while Jake produced a teapot from the cabinet and filled it with water.
He leaned on the counter as he waited for the water to boil. “You’ve got the jitters, Tessy. It’s normal.”
I shrugged.
“I felt the same way right before I married Sara,” he said.
“You did?”
“Yeah. We went to Vegas on a whim, and when we got to the chapel they separated us for a few minutes before the wedding. I freaked. I almost bailed. I thought maybe we were rushing into it too much. But you know what I realized?”
I shook my head.
“I realized,” he said, “it wasn’t the wedding that counted at all. It was all the stuff before, and all the stuff after. When I went to the chapel to begin with, I knew I wanted to be with Sara. I knew at some point, I was certain she was the one. I decided that was all I needed to know. I trusted she would still be the one after we signed the papers. And she still was. She still is, I should say.”
The teapot whistled. I sat there taking in his words as he placed two teabags into mugs and poured the water. He slid a cup in my direction and carried his cup around the counter, sitting down on the stool beside me.
“So I would ask you the same question. At some point, weren’t you certain Logan was the one?”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“But nothing,” he said. “You’re letting yourself get worked up over the formality of it. You’ve already made the decision. Trust yourself, Tessy.”
“I had this dream…” I wanted to tell him about it, but I didn’t know where to start.
“Dreams aren’t real. They can play tricks on you. Forget the dream. Just focus on the facts. What’s really the problem here?”
“The real problem is…” I wrapped my hands around my mug and watched the steam billow up as I thought about it. It was so easy for me to understand in my mind, and yet so difficult to articulate. Mentioning Thatcher was no use, because this wasn’t about him. He helped me to see things in a different light, sure, but when it came down to it, my doubts were about Logan. About the way I never seemed to be enough for him; the way I was constantly striving to change for him. “I’m not sure he loves me,” I said after a while.
Jake’s mouth hung open. “Are you kidding?”
“I’m serious. I think I’ve felt this way for a while. And I think I’ve been holding on for all this time because I’m afraid no one will love me.”
“Tessy…”
“Why did he wait so long to propose, Jake?”
“I don’t know about that,” he said, “but I do know he’s crazy about you. He called me all wrecked when he couldn’t find you.”
“He did?” I picked up the mug and took a sip.
Jake smiled. “Yeah. It was sort of pathetic. He made me promise not to tell you he called. Wanted to give you your space, I guess. Then he called back the next day, asking for my permission to marry you and concocting this big elaborate scheme to surprise you.”
I dropped my cup on the counter with a thud. “He asked your permission?”
“Yeah. You know, ’cause Dad…”
Without warning, I burst into tears. Jake opened his arms, and I collapsed onto his shoulder, weeping.
“Shh. Tessy, shh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I sniffled and pulled away. “No. No, you didn’t. It’s just so sweet.”
He handed me a napkin, and I blew my nose into it.
“Yeah well, old Britches isn’t so bad. He does love you, and he can take care of you. Dad would have wanted that for you, Tessy.”
I inhaled deeply, my breath hiccupping a bit from all of the crying. “You’re right. He would have wanted that, wouldn’t he?”
Jake nodded. “Of course he would. So you have my blessing. It’s going to be okay. Do you feel better?”
“I do. Thanks, Jake.”
“See? You just needed a little reassurance from your big brother is all.”
“Yeah. I guess I did.”
“Why don’t you take your tea to go and get back to sleep? I don’t care how pretty your dress is, you’re going to look lik
e a mess if you don’t get a few hours of shut eye.”
“Thanks.” I stood and gave him one last hug before leaving. “I love you, big brother.”
“I love you, too, Tessy.”
CHAPTER 34
Logan said he took care of everything, and he meant it.
The next morning, a platter of breakfast pastries was delivered, along with more flowers. I sat in a chair with my hands extended so the manicurist could work on my nails while the hairdresser pinned my hair into an updo of soft, loose curls. A seamstress arrived early to work on the dress, which didn’t need much in the way of altering, only a few tucks to shorten it up a little. She sat in the corner, stitching away at the hem.
Annie munched on a miniature donut while the makeup artist tried to powder her face between bites.
“This is the life.” She popped the last bit of donut in her mouth and washed it down with a sip of coffee. “You ready, Tess?”
“I think so,” I said. After my talk with Jake, I slept through the night without another dream. And this morning, the excitement of the day ahead left little time for doubt. Besides, Jake made me feel better about everything. He was right; I had a classic case of the jitters. Logan was a great guy, and this is what my father would have wanted for me. This was what I always wanted.
“Tess! Tess!” Sara burst into the cottage, clutching her bathrobe closed.
I jumped. “What? Is everything all right?”
She nodded, her chest heaving. “Carl’s is—” She took a staggered breath. “You’re in the news!”
“I’m what?”
She pulled a newspaper out from under her arm and thrust it in my direction, holding it up for me to see. I squinted to get a look at the headline and read it aloud.
“Here today, married tomorrow. Bride and groom tie the knot hours after surprise wedding proposal.”
The article was written by Natalie, I realized. There was a photo of me, looking shocked after walking into the back room and seeing everyone. There were pictures of the grapevines, and the barn, and the tent all decorated and ready for the wedding. There was even a shot of Logan down on one knee, over by the picnic table. How had she managed to capture that moment?
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