Wedding Belles

by Beth Albright

  Bonita arrived in style as usual. She was known around town for her impeccable fashion sense. Frankly, I didn’t know anybody that dressed like Bonita. She loved her designer labels, so I knew she was going to get along with Coco and Jean-Pierre just peachy.

  Bonita was wearing a gorgeous black-trimmed Chanel suit in lightweight, banana-cream-colored fabric. She had on dangly pearl earrings and a yellow pearl necklace. Her makeup accentuated her doll-like eyelashes and perfectly shaped pink lips. She wore strappy high heels and, even at her weight, she walked like a pageant queen. Curvaceous and confident, this woman was a Sassy Belle without a doubt.

  “Hey, Blake, how are you doin’?” She gave me a hug as she sat down. The planners weren’t there yet so Bonita and I had a chance to talk while we waited.

  “So much better now that you’re helping me out. Thank you so much for doing this, Bonita. I’m seriously running out of steam here and I think you will have some great ideas. The shower’s in a week, and then the wedding is just a month after that. I want Vivi to be the center of the universe and feel like a princess at both events.” I smiled and she nodded.

  “You know I love that Vivi,” she said. “My Arthur loves that girl like she was his own flesh and blood, and now that I know her, I can tell you she is nothing but pure good. I will be happy to help you make her feel like a queen.” Bonita stopped to order sweet tea and ask for extra lemon.

  “Oh, Bonita, I knew I could count on you! Now let me tell you all about A Fru Fru Affair. These guys are great.”

  “Guys?” she asked. “And a business called A Fru Fru Affair? This just gets better and better.”

  “I’ve known them since high school. They’re a bit younger than me and they were always very creative. Their names are Coco and Jean-Pierre.”

  “Blake, are you gonna sit there and tell me that a momma actually named her boy child Coco?”

  “Well, his real name is Craig but he changed it for the sake of business,” I said, smiling.

  “And Jean-Pierre? Did his momma name him that or did he name himself, too?” She took a sip of tea, grinning.

  “His name is John-Paul. See, they both just love France.”

  “So, don’t tell me, Coco named himself after Coco Chanel? C’mon, Blake, are you for real?”

  “Actually, Coco’s real last name is Channels.”

  “His name is Coco Channels?” Bonita burst out laughing; she had the loudest, most robust laugh I had ever heard. “Lord have mercy, me, you have got to be pullin’ my leg,” she said. “I can’t imagine a more perfect duo to work with. Good thing I wore my Chanel suit!”

  “Y’all are a perfect fit,” I said, laughing. “You’re gonna love them.”

  I saw Coco at the hostess desk. I waved my hand so he would see me. And right behind him was Jean-Pierre.

  “They’re here! I can’t wait for you to meet them.” Coco was waving his arms as he and Jean-Pierre made their way to the table.

  “Hey, honey! Don’t you look a-ma-zing.” Coco sang it out as he came over and gave me a hug.

  I did the introductions. “This is Bonita Baldwin. This is Coco Channels.”

  “Oh, my word, honey, look at that fabulous outfit,” Coco exclaimed, reaching out to hug Bonita. “You are a vision, my dear. I have heard so much about you. And you’re wearin’ my namesake, aren’t you? Chanel. I just love you already!”

  “I’ve heard so much about you, too.” She winked at me and smiled. “I like you already, you obviously have excellent taste,” she said.

  “Well, I guess Coco has a new bestie.” Jean-Pierre was feeling left out.

  “Aww, no, Jean-Pierre, no way. Are you jealous? Get over here and meet Miss Bonita,” I said.

  “So nice to meet you, Jean-Pierre. I am just thrilled to be working with y’all.”

  “Y’all have a seat and let’s get going,” I said. The waitress came back and took our orders.

  “Miss Bonita, let’s hear your ideas on this bridal-baby-bash. We gotta do double duty on this, you know,” Jean-Pierre said.

  “I do have some ideas,” she said. “What do y’all think about makeovers?” Bonita asked them, grinning.

  “Oh, my gawd, she is talkin’ my language,” Coco said, laughing. “I love it.”

  “Ain’t no Southern girl who won’t love a good makeover and a fashion show,” Bonita continued.

  “A fashion show, too! Where in the world did you find her, Blake? She is a natural at this.”

  “I thought we’d set up a little salon in Meridee’s living room and the whole theme will be princess-based,” Bonita continued. “Then we can stage a fashion show for momma and baby, look-alike outfits since we know it’s a baby girl.”

  “Oh,” Coco interrupted, “do tell Miss Vivi thank you from the bottom of my heart for havin’ us a baby girl. That makes this so much easier for us.”

  “I’ll let her know she has done her duty.” I smiled at Bonita.

  “Well, she had already picked her wedding colors as pink and blush and cream, so now with a girl on the way, we don’t have to worry about coordination. The bridal-baby-bash can all be the same color—pink!” Coco did love his work, it was slightly obvious.

  “Now, how do we fit the psychic in?” Jean-Pierre interjected, bringing the excitement to a screeching halt.

  “Say what?” Bonita set her tea down.

  “Well, Vivi has us all goin’ in a caravan down to the river to visit her mystic friend, Myra Jean. I personally think it sounds like a hoot,” Coco said.

  “Blake, I don’t know about a clairvoyant. Those people scare me,” Bonita said.

  “Oh, c’mon, Miss Bonita, it’ll be fun. She’s just a show, right, Blake?” Jean-Pierre put his pen down.

  “Well, if you’re askin’ me if she can make things float through the air and speak to the spirit world, I don’t think so. She’s just an old friend of my grandmother’s. But she does have a knack for sensing things the rest of us don’t,” I said, not wanting to reveal how right she’d actually been on her last prediction. “Besides, Vivi wanted this visit as her wedding gift from me, and I’m not gonna disappoint her.”

  “Does she have a crystal ball?” Coco sat up in his chair and raised his eyebrows.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “I never saw her use it if she does.” I smiled, trying to downplay the whole thing.

  “Okay, but how does a psychic reading fit in to the whole princess-for-a-day theme we got goin’ here, other than I’ll be in royal freak-out mode?” Bonita asked.

  “Okay, here’s the plan,” Jean-Pierre said, taking charge. “We’ll have the makeovers and then a fashion show, and then we’ll have desserts. Once all that’s done, we’ll head down to the river to the magician. Didn’t everyone in the olden days believe in witches and magic and all that? We’ll consider it part of a princess’s privilege to know what her future holds. It’ll be different, and I know Miss Vivi loves different. I think it’ll work.”

  “Me, too,” Coco said. “I love it. All the guests will have their fortunes read, and maybe we can get the wizard to predict someone’s engagement.” Coco was grinning.

  “She’s not a wizard, she’s a psychic,” I said.

  “Well, whatever, magician, wizard, psychic... We’re gonna have us a fortune-telling.”

  “Okay, but I don’t want my fortune read,” Bonita said firmly. “I’m plenty fortunate enough. But I’ll go. I always wanted to see if I could tell how they do their tricks.” She was smiling as she took a sip of tea.

  “She’s not doing any tricks, I promise. She doesn’t pull rabbits out of hats, either,” I said.

  The waitress brought our lunch, and we ate while finalizing the details.

  “The invitations have been sent, and we are on our way,” Jean-Pierre said.

  �
��Awesome,” I said. “So now Bonita and I will work on the makeover artists and...”

  Coco interrupted, “And we will get the fashion show together. I so can do that. Thrilled, that is the word today, y’all. Thrilled!”

  “He is all over this. He got up, practicing his bend and snap—he just loves to pretend he’s Reese Witherspoon in Legally Blonde,” Jean-Pierre said. “I am gonna have to calm that man down.” He rolled his eyes like this was a daily duty.

  I paid the bill and left a generous tip, and we all said our goodbyes.

  “Honey, those two are a hoot. I just love working with them,” Bonita said as she opened her car door. “Thank you for asking me to be involved, Blake. It really means a lot.”

  “You’re so welcome, honey. I need you for this, so I thank you, too,” I said sincerely.

  “No, Blake, it’s more than that.” She looked serious for the first time that afternoon. “This really makes me feel like family, you know?”

  “Oh, Bonita, but you are.” I smiled and hugged her. “I’ll call you later. We have a cake tasting set up for later this week at Vivi’s house. We want your opinion.”

  “You think I would ever miss a cake tasting?” She laughed. “Seriously, you don’t have to ask me twice.”

  She started her car, waving out the window as she drove out of the parking lot and headed across the river toward the police station. I knew we were in for quite a joyride with Bonita and the planners working together now, and it took a load of stress off my shoulders. It was going to be a bridal-baby-bash that would go down in Fru Fru history.

  26

  I was just getting in my car when Jean-Pierre circled back and pulled in next to me. “Blake, we need to talk. I didn’t want to say anything before, you know with Bonita here and all, but I was at the TV station yesterday making sure the media understands all about parking at the wedding. They all wanna be there because our voice of the Tide, Mr. Lewis, is the man of the hour. Anyway, I overheard something I thought you might like to know.”

  “What?” I said, full of concern.

  “Well, I know how you and Miss Vivi are always dodging that TV reporter Dallas Dubois. I remember she was always just awful back in high school. So I thought you might like to know that when I was dropping off the media info yesterday, I heard her talking to that news director about something rather...interesting.”

  “Oh, really? What’s going on?” I asked.

  “Well, the news director told her she needed to get to the bottom of this Harry Heart affair or else she could lose her job.”

  “What? Affair?”

  “Oh, Blake, I hope I didn’t say too much. I don’t want to upset you, but you’re his wife and I felt you ought to know.”

  “No. No. Tell me everything.”

  “Well,” he said, leaning out of the car window slightly, “it seems that the TV station is having cutbacks and two reporters will be laid off. A third reporter will be getting the anchor seat, but two of them are getting the ax by the end of the year.”

  “Well, that is very interesting.” I was trying not to overreact, but inside, I was sick.

  “Yeah, and I heard the news director say she can come at it from both ends, too. Whatever that means. I’m sure it doesn’t mean what it means in my world.” He laughed. “But really, the idea of anyone fooling around behind your back is just ridiculous. There’s no way a man would cheat if he landed a catch like you. So, I just wanted to make sure you had the heads-up about what those sleazeballs were up to.”

  “Thank you so much. I did need to know this. I think my husband needs to know this, too. If Dallas’s job is at stake, she’ll do anything she can to get a story—even if there isn’t one,” I added.

  “You’re welcome, Miss Blake. Just know Coco and I are on your side. We just love you and Miss Vivi. Oh, we’re starting work on that pond tomorrow.”

  Uh-oh. “Is that okay with Vivi?”

  “Yes, she said she kinda liked the idea, after all. So the bulldozers will be there bright and early.”

  Great, I thought. I love bulldozers at 7:00 a.m. It’s my favorite. I wish they would bring a jackhammer, too.

  I said goodbye and then called Sonny to let him know I might be late. We had an appointment with Cal, who was gonna use his tech-wizard skills to see what he could dig up on Tressa, Tonia and Tamlyn. But not before I stopped by at Harry’s to tell him we were being run over at both ends by a bulldozer named Dallas.

  Suddenly this whole affair with Dan and Dallas made sense. Her job was on the line and she was in a panic. Not only was she trying her best to get the details on Sonny and me, she was also following Harry and Jane, and Dan was her best way into that circle.

  I pulled into the driveway and ran inside on autopilot. Once inside the front door, I stopped dead in my tracks. It felt so strange being back inside my own home. It took my breath away. I was struck like I had run into a haunted theater, the ghosts of my life with Harry hovering overhead. I stood motionless for a second before I was physically able to dash up the stairs. I called out to him. Everywhere I looked, I could see images of us.

  I hadn’t even looked to see if his car was parked outside. My stomach was suddenly in knots as I climbed up the stairs to our bedroom. My mind was in another world: inside the fairy tale of Blake and Harry. A flood of emotions came rushing in and I found myself unprepared for the sensations I was feeling. I was filled with confusion.

  And then I opened the bedroom door. Jane and Harry were just finishing up. The bed a mess, sheets and duvet in a heap, the two of them buttoning their crisply pressed shirts.

  “Blake! What are you doing here?” Harry exclaimed.

  “Well, it’s my house, too, isn’t it? Nice to see you, Jane. Enjoying my husband? My bed?”

  I was infuriated, but instead of ripping them to shreds—luckily for them—I turned to sarcasm.

  “Blake, I’m so sorry,” Harry said.

  “Yeah, right, Harry. Stow it. I guess you think it’s okay for you to screw around and jeopardize your senate run, just as long as I don’t. Well, guess what? I’m here to tell you Dallas is after you and your little friendship here with the judge.”

  “What do you mean?” Jane asked as she looked for her heels.

  “I prefer to speak directly to my husband, Your...Honor,” I replied.

  I walked on inside the room, seeing my dressing table, my mirror and my things still in their place. It shook me. As my heart fluttered, I tried to stay focused on why I was there. But all my emotions suddenly stuck in my throat.

  “Harry, Dallas is rubbing up on Dan so she can get the story on you and Jane. I told you something strange was going on with them. I have a good source who’s heard her news director threaten her job if she didn’t break the story of our marriage. Or lack thereof.”

  “Jane and I have never...”

  “Stop!” I interrupted. “Are you honestly going to try and say nothing is happening after Jane has clearly just finished her ride on the bologna pony? I mean, really, Harry, how stupid do you think I am? I just wanted you to know and to try to be careful. The snake is out there.”

  I turned and walked out, feeling sick to my stomach, when something caught my eye from the large window over my vanity. I moved closer and I saw the top of a very recognizable bottle-blond head. Dallas was out on that rose trellis I, myself, had fallen off last May.

  “Oh, my God! Dallas is peeking in that window right now! That’s her cameraman. Oh, Lord. They’ve gotten all of this on video.”

  “Shit! You gotta be kidding me!”

  Harry tore out of the bedroom while Jane stood frozen, her mouth dropped open. I was sure she had never been in a situation like this, the reputation of her family name suddenly hanging in the balance.

  I ran out after Harry, ready to confront Dallas and her ca
meraman in the front yard. The hot sun was dripping down and both of us were yelling in front of the whole neighborhood. I knew even if the video was never seen, anyone could grab their cell phone and have this battle on YouTube in minutes. This one moment in the driveway could destroy Harry’s entire campaign.

  Harry was barely dressed, shirt untucked, his belt hanging to one side as he swung open the front door. Dallas and her cameraman ran to the TV van parked down the street. We were too late. They were gone.

  Harry grabbed his cell phone and called Dan. I jumped in my car and headed to the TV station, following close behind the van. I ripped into the parking lot right behind them.

  “Dallas!” I screamed at her as she got out. “Listen to me. There is no way you can use a frame of that footage. I will sue you for invasion of privacy.”

  “Harry is a public figure, Blake. I’m sure you know the law.”

  “In fact, I do, and Harry wasn’t in public. He was in the privacy of his own home and you were shooting inside his windows. I can and will put a stop to this and subpoena that tape.”

  “What do you care, Blake? He was screwing someone else. Last I heard y’all are still married. Why would you defend him?”

  I ignored the question. “Not one bit of this is for public consumption. I do know the law and I will go after you. Don’t push me.”

  I was so wound up and I was about to snap. I was shaking all over. I wanted to scream, I wanted to cry. It was overwhelming me. But I had to keep it together until I knew I had her agreement.

  “Do what you need to do, Blake. And so will I.” She turned on her five-inch heels and headed inside.

  I got back in my car and called Harry. He knew the privacy act as well as I did. My grandfather himself set the precedent and wrote the privacy laws for the state of Alabama. I knew she couldn’t use any of whatever she got.

  “Hey. Did you get her?” he asked me.

  “I threatened her. I still think we need to call the news director.” I was driving and realized I was headed straight to Meridee’s.