Once Upon a Second Chance

by Marian Vere

  Scheherazade’s got nothing on me.

  Half past two rolls around, and Margaret still has not made an appearance. I’ve had more than five solid quiet hours, during which I was able to catch up on all the e-mails, phone calls, and paperwork that had piled up over the time I was gone. I come to the happy conclusion that I will be the only one in for the day when Margaret comes bursting through the door in one of her dizzy-tizzies.

  “Julia!” Damn. “I’m so sorry! You poor thing, you’ve been here all day by yourself! I’ve been in and out of meetings all morning, it’s just been crazy!” She tosses her bag on her chair, rambling on without stopping for a breath. “The lease on the Weston Building is about to expire, and we don’t have any of the renewal paperwork yet. Then Dana announces she’s leaving at the end of the year, which means her group will need a new lead, and I have until the end of the month to compile a list of interview candidates, plus I have to meet with Mr. and Mrs. Braxton about their summer house.” She finally pauses, coming over and giving me a hug. “Oh, but never mind all that, we’ve missed you! How was your vacation? Did you have a nice time? Oh!” Her eyes light up. Here it comes. “Have you talked to Bree?”

  “I haven’t actually spoken with her, but she sent me an e-mail.”

  “Can you believe it? Isn’t it exciting! I am so happy—”

  “I know, me too.” I give my best fake smile, unintentionally cutting her off.

  Unintentionally…yeah.

  “Oh, and while I’m thinking about it, I’m supposed to tell you that tomorrow during lunch you’re to meet Bree and the rest of her girls here—” she hurries over to her bag, digs through it, and hands me a note with an address “—to look at dresses, then you are all going to a late lunch. Don’t worry about coming back in; you and Bree can both take the afternoon off.”

  “Are you sure?” I ask, trying to come up with a reason to miss out on the lunch, assuming there is a good chance Nick will be there. “You just got through telling me how busy you are, and I have been off for almost three—”

  “None of that, none of that,” she says, waving her hand like she is shooing a fly. “I’ll be fine! You girls go and have fun! I just wish I could be there!”

  Thankfully, her cell rings before we get into anything I really don’t want to discuss—the proposal, how cute the happy couple is, things like that. I’m more than sure I will get my fill of that, and then some, tomorrow. Ugh! Wedding dress shopping? Really? I know as a bridesmaid I have to be there, and I do want to be there for Bree, but I’m really not sure that I can sit in a room with a bunch of women, talking about how wonderful Nick is with someone else. I have a hard enough time keeping my composure with just the voices in my head, so how am I supposed to keep it together when the voices are real?

  Well, I guess it is fairly common for people to cry while wedding dress shopping, right? If I do lose it, maybe everyone will think I’m just being sentimental or some other crap like that. In any event, I doubt anyone will automatically come to the conclusion that I’m upset because I’m the bitter, depressed woman in love with the bride’s fiancé. Though with the luck I’ve been having lately, it’s probably safer not to assume anything.

  “Oh, one more thing,” Margaret says, making me jump. “We got our invites to the party while you were away. Here.” She hands me a blue envelope with the SMS logo on the front. “It’s October eighth and it’s at the library this year.”

  “Wow. Fancy.” My stomach twists as I skim over the elegant script.

  Miss Basham and Guest,

  You are cordially invited to the 17th annual SMS Gala

  Friday the Eighth of October

  at Seven o’clock in the Evening

  New York Public Library

  Every year in the fall, SMS Financial hosts a huge party for all its employees and clients. Normally I hate the thing, because I always go alone and end up tagging along behind Bree all night like a sad, lost puppy. This year will be worse, because Bree will now be there with Nick, wearing her new huge diamond ring and answering everyone’s questions about the wedding, how they met, and so on. No way am I tagging along with the two of them, which means I will either be totally alone, or attached to Margaret and her husband all night. Fun.

  Maybe I won’t go.

  I let out a long breath and rest my chin on my hand. I’m going to have to get used to being around Nick. Bree is one of my best friends and my co-worker. She is marrying Nick, which means Nick is going to be in my life now for as long as Bree is. He will be in the office, at work functions, and loads of other places I will also be. I can’t hide forever. I refuse. I have to believe in the magic, dust off my fairy wings, and keep my magic wand aimed at the prize. I’ve already taken the first step in going out with Zach, and I am not about to lose that ground.

  Speaking of…

  I grab my phone and dial the number to Zach’s apartment. It’s almost three in the afternoon and he’s at work, so I leave a message. “Hey, Zach, it’s Julia. Two things real quick. First, I have to cancel our lunch tomorrow. I have a last minute appointment that just came up and I can’t miss it. Sorry. Maybe we can do it later this week. Also, on the evening of the eighth, I have a company party, and was wondering if you are free, and would maybe like to go with me. I have to RSVP by the end of the week so just let me know before then. Talk to you soon. Bye.”

  There. At least there will be no lost puppy this year.

  13

  THE NEXT DAY, after a restless night filled with nightmares about the wedding of Mr. and Mrs. Nicholas and Brianna Kerkley, and a morning of work that wasn’t distracting, I sluggishly make my way down Fifth Avenue to the address Margaret gave me yesterday.

  As I walk, I decide to take full advantage of this afternoon. I will get everything wedding related out of the way as soon as possible. That morning I’d looked up the bridal shop online and saw that they were one of the biggest in the city, selling everything from bridal gowns and veils, to bridesmaid’s dresses, jewelry, and shoes. A first class shop, all the way. This is good news, as I plan to find and buy my dress, shoes, jewelry, and anything else I need for this wedding all this afternoon. That way I can go the next few weeks not having to think about the wedding any more than I absolutely have to. That will leave me plenty of time to devote to the fairy godmothering of my life plan, which, I am ashamed to say, I’ve been seriously slacking on the past few days. My date with Zach was a good first step, but I haven’t made any substantial strides since then, and I know if I allow it, this whole wedding agenda will derail me completely. I can’t let that happen. I know today will be hard, the rest of the wedding functions will be rough, and the wedding itself—well, I can’t even bring myself to think about it yet. But all of the hours I don’t already have earmarked for work or sleep will be devoted to creating the life that I should already have by now.

  I arrive at Bridal Reflections, step into the entryway, and actually have to remind myself not to gawk. This has to be the nicest bridal shop I have ever seen. In fact, I’m pretty sure the word “shop” is an offensive term to a place like this. “Salon” or “boutique” would be much more appropriate. A short smiling woman in a black suit meets me in the lobby.

  “Good afternoon,” she says, extending a hand. “Do you have an appointment with us today?”

  “Yes, I’m with the St. Charles party.”

  “Of course, right this way. Miss St. Charles has already arrived.”

  She leads me past endless rows of hangers all dripping with puffy white fluff. There’s satin, silk, lace, pearls, and crystals as far as the eye can see.

  “There they are.” The woman gestures to a long couch.

  Bree sees me immediately and jumps up. “Jules!” She runs over and throws her arms around me. “I’m so happy to see you! I’ve missed you!” After a moment she lets go, and I have my first actual look at her. She is absolutely glowing. I’ve never seen her like this, with happiness just pouring out of her. I swallow the lump in my thr
oat.

  I remember that feeling…

  She takes my hand and leads me over to the couch, where three other women are waiting.

  “Everyone, this is Julia Basham. Jules, this is my sister, Jen, my Maid of Honor—” she touches the first woman on the couch “—and you’ve met my mom, Linda.” I had, but I’m glad she reminded me of her name. “And this is Ashley, my best friend growing up.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I say to everyone at once.

  As soon as Bree and I sit down, a consultant comes around the corner, pushing a rack of dresses. “Are we ready to begin?” she asks, smiling at Bree.

  “Almost, we’re still missing one.”

  Ah, Cathy…I had almost forgotten about her.

  “Would you like to wait?” the consultant asks.

  “Yes, if that’s all right. I’d rather not try anything on until everyone is here, but the girls can start looking through those until then.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll leave these for you all to look through, and in the meantime, I’ll start pulling your first set of gowns, so they’re all ready to go.”

  She hurries off, and Bree pulls out two swatches of fabric from her bag. “Okay, you will all choose your own dress in whatever style you like. She brought those ones out for you to look through,” she says, motioning toward the rack. “When you pick your favorite, they’ll order it in these colors. Jen, you’ll be the taupe, and everyone else will have the green.”

  Hmm, not bad. The green was nice, almost like a sage, and from the looks of it, we had twenty or so dress styles to choose from. We all wander over to the rack of gowns, and start going through them. They’re all floor length and satin, but otherwise, each is unique. I can see that about a third of them are out for me already—I don’t do strapless. I’m a girl who needs a little more than boning to keep everything where it needs to be.

  I have a few dresses hung over my arm to try on when Bree calls us back over to the couch. She’s standing with a woman about Margaret’s age.

  Bree puts an arm around her. “Girls, this is Debbie, my future mother-in-law. Debbie, this is my sister, Jen, and my friends, Ashley and Julia.”

  Wait…what?

  She continues to talk, but I’ve tuned her out. Everyone greets Debbie with a smile, and Bree’s mother steps forward to give her a hug, while I can only stare, totally confused. What does she mean mother-in-law? Nick’s mother has been dead for years. This must be a mistake. Could this be an aunt or other family member he was extremely close with? No…as far as I can remember, Cathy is his only other family member. What the hell is going on?

  Luckily, Bree steps away from everyone for a moment. I go over to her, grab her elbow, and quietly pull her into the first open dressing room, trying my best to be discreet.

  I close the door behind us and turn to face her, dropping the gowns in my arms. “What’s going on?”

  “What are you talking about?” she asks, confused.

  “She’s your mother-in-law?”

  “Well not yet—”

  “How is that possible?”

  “Because she’s Chris’s mom?” she tells me, as though she’s not sure what I mean.

  My heart skips a beat. One word completely stopped my world from turning. I stare at her, trying to put the universe back in order. “Chris? You’re marrying Chris?”

  She smiles, but still looks at me as if I have two heads. “What did you think was going on here?”

  “I thought you were marrying Nick!”

  “What? No! Why would you think that?”

  “Because the two of you were all cute and flirty and date-y.”

  “Well, maybe a little at first,” she cuts in, blushing a bit, “but Chris and I have been dating since the day you left.”

  “And that! The day I left, you and Nick were in the library kissing!” What the hell is going on here?

  “Kissing? No! Chris and I were asking him if he would mind our being together. They have been friends for years, and I’m sort of Nick’s employee, so we wanted to make sure he was all right with everything before we told anyone else. Nick said he was fine, and that he was happy for us. I gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Is that what you’re talking about? That’s hardly kissing.”

  What? No. No way…I know what I saw.

  “Chris was there in the room with us,” she added. “Didn’t you see him?”

  “No…”

  I swear they were kissing…Her arms were definitely around his neck and…his hands were on her waist.

  “I told you everything in my e-mail, didn’t you get it?”

  “The engagement e-mail?”

  “No, the one before that.”

  Ah…“I’m in Love.” The e-mail I didn’t read.

  “No, I guess not.” At this point my face is a blank stare. She’s marrying Chris. Shy, quiet Chris. Nick is not getting married.

  He’s not getting married.

  “Are you okay?” Bree asks me. She seems afraid I might fall over.

  I snap out of it in time to cover my short blackout. “Yeah, sure, fine, just surprised…that’s all. Chris is so quiet, I never thought…well never mind. It’s great, hun!” I smile, and give her a hug. She smiles back, obviously satisfied with my lame explanation.

  “Make sure you come out. I want to see them all!” She smiles, picking up and hanging the dresses I’ve forgotten all about. She gives me another quick hug, and then leaves me alone in the dressing room.

  I cover my mouth with both hands, and slowly slide down the wall to the floor.

  He’s not getting married.

  For all of five minutes, I sit motionless, unable to even think beyond those four words. So many emotions crash over me, I can’t keep them all straight. Relief that Nick is still single. Shame that I’m relieved that Nick is still single and isn’t getting the happiness I know he deserves. Shock that shy little Chris could actually bring himself to propose to someone. Astonishment that all this happened so fast. Excitement for the wedding, now that I can be excited rather than depressed. And incredible embarrassment over what I have needlessly put myself through these past few weeks. God, Susan will get a kick out of this one.

  With a sudden burst of energy, I pop up and grab the first dress. It’s been a long time since I have felt this wonderfully relaxed, and I’m not about to waste it. True, there is quite a lot to think about, but I am not going to do it now. Nothing kills this feeling faster than thinking. I’m going to hop on this incredible wave of Zen, get in the wedding spirit, and enjoy the afternoon in a way I would not have thought possible an hour ago.

  He’s not getting married!

  I lie in bed that evening, thinking about the unbelievable turn this day took. The rest of our afternoon had been spent choosing dresses, picking out jewelry and shoes, critiquing veils, and discussing wedding plans. Amazingly, we all found dresses. I had chosen a sleeveless, scoop-neck, A-line gown. It had gathered ruching from the bust all the way down, until the ruching turned into pick-up style gathers all over the skirt. The sample I tried on had been ivory and, on the hanger, I thought it looked like a pile of vanilla frosting. Once I put it on, however, it was actually very flattering. The ruching hid some of my own personal frosting, while the scoop-neck made my boobs look good.

  Bree looked stunning in everything she tried on, finally choosing a strapless fitted silk gown with crystal beading at the bust, an asymmetrical drop waist, and a big, billowy skirt.

  Jen, Ashley, and I decided to get matching jewelry, and Bree bought the three of us matching jeweled hair combs to wear as thank you gifts—though she insisted on taking them with her, so she could wrap them and give them to us at the rehearsal dinner.

  Debbie was beside herself all day, drinking in every moment. Apparently, it had always been her dream to have a big city wedding, but since her husband was active military when they were married, she had to settle with a small family affair. After that, Debbie had made it her goal to live vicariously through her daughte
r, and throw her the wedding she had always dreamed of for herself. Two sons and twenty-nine years later, she had all but given up on that dream. She had really never expected Chris to marry; he’d been shy and backward with women while growing up. Brandon, Chris’s younger brother, vowed he would never get married but on the off chance he did, he planned to elope in Vegas. So when Chris called Debbie and told her he was engaged, it took her only long enough to recover from the shock to start planning.

  The entire affair is going to be first class all the way. The ceremony and reception will be at the Waldorf, family and friends are being flown in from all corners of the country, and Debbie is paying for it all. Bree told me on the way to our late lunch—which, due to the amount of time we spent at the bridal salon, turned out to be dinner—what a great job Debbie was doing with everything and how she always got Bree’s “okay” before she made any big decisions. As excited as I know Bree is, Debbie just may have her beat.

  I’m so happy for Bree. I really am. I wanted to be happy for her before, but that was, I’m ashamed to say, hard. She’s on cloud nine, and it is nice to finally be able to catch the wedding bug, and be excited with her. Plus, it makes me feel much more like a good friend and less like a self-centered bitch.

  The shocker for me is that she fell for someone like Chris! Chris is an outstanding guy, don’t get me wrong, but I would never have pictured her with someone so soft-spoken and shy. Moreover, I can’t see Chris actually having the balls to go after someone like Bree—or anyone at all, for that matter. But hey, good for them. If she has done for him half of what he has done for her, this is a match made in heaven. She was glowing all through the appointment and dinner, talking about Chris, how they met, the proposal, and all their future plans. It was adorable the way her face lit up any time someone mentioned his name. She really is a different person now; she’s always been naturally happy, but now it’s something different. Her happiness seems to spring from a new place deep inside. In any event, I am sure those two have found their happily ever after.