The Wedding Blues (7 Brides for 7 Brothers Book 9)

by Lee Wardlow

  “Hi Caz, sweetheart. How are you?”

  “Good. How’s Ricky?” I asked.

  “Excellent,” he almost purred.

  “Am I interrupting something?”

  “Nope. He just finished rubbing my back. I’m nice and relaxed. What can I do for you, sweetheart?”

  “Is there something wrong with me?”

  The phone was silent. Then there was the heavy sigh. “What’s wrong?”

  I started explaining all the craziness going on inside my head. The lack of sex. He groaned, my uncle didn’t really want to hear about my sex life. Davy was more interested in his laptop than me, I complained. He sighed. “Is something wrong with me?”

  “No, sweetheart. Nothing is wrong with you.”

  “We’re supposed to get married. Lacey suggested we postpone again. I told her to be quiet but now I’m thinking it might be a good, idea.”

  “Why?” He asked, again with a heavy sigh.

  “I’m not sure that he loves me. I think he might be hung up on his ex-fiancée, Georgie Baird still.”

  “The man I met, seemed pretty much in love with you, Caz.” He had met Davy when he brought Lacey home to Brodie.

  “It’s so hard, Eddie. Walking in Lacey’s shadow,” I grumbled.

  “Is that what this is really about?” He asked me.

  “No,” I replied. Then I thought about it for a moment. The years of growing up the older sister of Lacey Chapman. Granted three years should have made a big enough difference that there wasn’t any competition between us, but she was like Elle McPherson while I was like well, I was like me.

  “Caz, you are you and Lacey is Lacey. Both my beautiful girls,” he said.

  I sniffed back tears. His statement reminding me of when we were little, and he used to say things like that to us because someone had carried on about how beautiful a child, my sister was while I stood by my uncle like chopped liver. I grew into my looks after the awkwardness of puberty.

  “Caz, you and Lacey are both beautiful women but different. I love you, sweetheart. Are you, all right?”

  “I guess.” I wasn’t getting anywhere with Eddie, so I told him goodbye and to give my love to Ricky.

  Then I settled back against the tub. Maybe it was time for a makeover. A new me. Something that would re-awaken the beast in Davy Steward who couldn’t keep his hands off me when we first started dating.

  I called the salon where I got my hair done and made an appointment for tomorrow. I was off work so Jazzy could fit me in during the day. The receptionist made an appointment for noon. I was going to give Jazzy free reign with my hair, my make-up and let her turn me into a new woman.

  I wasn’t thinking that it was three weeks until my wedding. What if I didn’t like the new me that would be forever imprinted in my wedding pictures?

  Chapter 3

  I stumbled into the kitchen. Davy turned and looked at me. “Hey, what happened last night? You left while I was saving my file. By the time I came upstairs, you were asleep,” he said to me.

  I tilted my head to the side and frowned at him. “What time did you come upstairs, Davy?”

  He cleared his throat. I knew that I had gotten out of the tub at nine. Slipped into sexy pajamas and rubbed a gallon of lotion on my exposed body hoping he would come up and decide to jump me after the fiasco in the office. “Davy?” I repeated his name.

  “Midnight,” he sheepishly answered.

  I sighed and headed to the coffee maker. “What did you expect?”

  I think he heard the snappish tone to my voice. He slipped in behind me and kissed my shoulder. “I’m sorry, babe. I have a lot on my plate with the new contracts at Steward, right now. Things will slow down soon.”

  I nodded glancing over my shoulder at him. He hadn’t shaved this morning. His jaw was covered in thicker whiskers than yesterday. He pulled me back against him with his arm around my waist. I laid my head against his. “I love you,” I whispered.

  “Love you too, babe. How was the dress fitting with Lacey?” Davy asked still holding me in his arms.

  My Davy wasn’t as broad as some of his brothers, but he was muscularly lean. His arms were firm and hard and wrapped around me, I felt protected and loved right now. I laid my hand over his arm. My ass snuggled against his crotch hoping to give Davy some naughty ideas about being late for work.

  I was still wearing my sexy pj’s too but with a short robe over them. He squeezed me harder. “I’m gonna be late, babe.” He slipped away from me.

  I turned, leaning against the counter, let the shorty, silky robe slide, open showing my cleavage spilling over the top of the sexy lingerie I was wearing. The camisole top in baby blue, edged with fine, lace. He hadn’t even seen the barely there, bottoms.

  “Davy,” I called his name. He turned at the kitchen door. “Have a nice, day,” I said.

  The one thing I forgot. My fiancé, my sweetheart, love of life had seen this get up already when he climbed in bed with me last night at midnight.

  “Hubba, Hubba, babe but I saw you last night though when I got in bed. You look beautiful though.” He was distracted; thinking of work. He didn’t even look at me. Then he headed towards the laundry room to get to the garage where his truck was parked.

  I wanted to throw my coffee cup at his retreating back. I turned and set it on the counter to keep from breaking something including my fiancé’s head.

  I ran up the stairs and threw on shorts, a ratty, t-shirt that I used to wear in college and flip flops. I had three hours to kill before my hair appointment. I headed out to do some shopping to waste time.

  Target was my first stop. I walked aisle by aisle. Not looking for anything but not wanting to be at home either.

  Davy and I had split our wedding expenses. He wanted to be sure that I had the wedding I had always dreamed of and wouldn’t pinch pennies. I still watched the bottom line but spent a little more with him contributing than I would have. Uncle Eddie and Ricky sent a nice check too to help cover the cost.

  The outdoor setting was in a park near his home. We rented a tent in case it rained and wanted to be married in the gazebo with a small pond as the back drop. Bairds was catering even though Bairds themselves no longer owned the pub. Mike Riffe owned it now. I just liked their food, simple and delicious.

  The cake was made by a local bakery. Three tiers, to accommodate one hundred guests. We thought we were keeping it simple between some of the people from the plant and some of the people from the hospital plus family. Eddie had agreed to come home and give me away.

  The men were wearing jeans, with fancy vests and ties that matched my colors. The flowers were a mixture of white lilies and roses with some greenery thrown in for color and teal ribbon wrapped around the stems.

  Lacey had a friend from when she was a welder at Steward who was doing DJ honors. We were set now. Three weeks from Saturday, I would be Davy Steward’s wife.

  I wanted to be sure it’s what he wanted though. I wanted to be sure that Davy didn’t regret proposing so quickly after we started dating. I needed to be sure that he didn’t still love Georgie Baird too.

  I stopped in the bedding aisle. I wondered what he would think about changing his bedroom? Making it ours. After all, he and Georgie had lived together briefly in his house. Slept together in that room. I found a comforter that would be just as pretty with the four-post, antique bed, if not lovelier.

  I snapped a picture of the gray and pink flowered quilt and sent it to Davy with the caption.

  What do you think about a change in our bedroom?

  I stood in the aisle and mentally calculated how much the entire bedding set would be. New curtains, new pillow cases, throw pillows were a necessity, new sheets. While we were at it, maybe new pillows too. Georgie had slept on those pillows at one time.

  I loved Georgie Baird Cole. She was a sweetheart to me. My friend too. I struggled with the ghost of her being in my bedroom. The thought that she also slept in that bed with my fiancé. I hop
ed the change would help with my insecurities.

  I was willing to admit it as least. It wasn’t her. It was me.

  That’s fine, babe. Make it your own.

  I gathered everything that I would need and threw it in my shopping cart including four new pillows. Total right now? Close to four hundred fifty dollars.

  Then I headed to the bath section. I wanted to get all new stuff for the counter top. A new rug for the floor. New curtain for the clawfoot tub. Total now? Two hundred twenty-five dollars to outfit the bathroom. Six hundred, seventy-five dollars, not including tax.

  I thought I might paint the bedroom too. So, I checked out of Target with my purchases and headed to Home Depot. I found a lovely, soft, dove gray paint that I liked.

  The nice man at Home Depot told me how much paint to buy. What type was most popular for best coverage. He showed me this new tape that you could use to tape off the baseboards with and if you got paint where you didn’t want it the tape dissolved the paint. How nifty? I’m a lousy painter.

  Home Depot total, nearly two hundred dollars by the time I bought pans, brushes, paint tape and three gallons of paint. My credit card had taken a major beating and it was time to head to the salon.

  When I walked through the door, Jazzy was running a bit behind but she had signed me up for a mani/pedi while I waited. Her treat. She was running that far behind.

  Her friend, Alexa took me for my mani/pedi. She talked me into a wild, pale blue that she told me matched my eyes. If my eyes were now pastel blue, I needed glasses like Davy did because I thought they were pale blue, nearly colorless. Eyes like Mom and Uncle Eddie. Both Lacey and I had their eyes.

  I soaked my feet and scanned Facebook bored with this whole, process. I almost fell asleep in the chair, while Alexa cleaned up my toes and the bottoms of my feet. Don’t ask me how with the amount of scrubbing Alexa did on the bottom of my feet? Maybe I needed to do this a little more often. Lacey did pedicures every other month and had tried to get me to do it with her. I might take her up on it now that I had one.

  Then Alexa took me to her table after my toes were painted this pretty, pastel blue that she had compared to my eyes, where she worked on my fingers. I had never in my life had my toes painted anything that was this…this…I don’t know what to call it, far out perhaps?

  Alexa did let me choose my own nail polish. I went with the French manicure since I was a nurse and couldn’t really have bright colors on my nails. I could get by with the French manicure for a while.

  When we were done, Alex popped me under a UVA lamp to let my nails dry while she went to check on Jazzy.

  I had been going to Jazzy for years. I just kept coming home to her, to let her do my hair. Always, the same, stacked back, almost Dorothy Hamill cute cut. She called me an old soul.

  Maybe I was. Change, unnerved me. I was stuck in my ways which is why I was afraid when Lacey showed up at the Christmas party with Brodie Steward, ten years older and President of Steward Steel that my baby sister would get hurt.

  What if things didn’t work out? I was always that girl. What if it rained and I didn’t have my umbrella? I carried it everywhere. It was small enough to fit inside my rather large bag that I carried daily. What if I needed cash for something where they didn’t take credit cards? I stuck a twenty in behind a picture in my wallet for emergencies. Just like my grandmother used to do. What if the sky fell Chicken Little? Then I was screwed because that was something that I couldn’t control. I craved control in my life.

  The hardest what if of all? What if Davy really didn’t love me after all? Those thoughts kept playing over and over in my brain.

  I was lost in thought. Jazzy squealed when she saw me. “You’re going to finally let me have my way with you,” she exclaimed.

  I looked around embarrassed by the suggestiveness of her comment.

  Jazzy laughed at me. Her laughter was boisterous and could be heard anywhere in the salon. Heads turned. I smiled and shrugged. Everyone knew Jazzy and her love of teasing.

  She was the only woman I knew whose boobs were bigger than my own. Even the Baird sisters could not compare theirs to mine. Her spikey red hair was short, shaved on the sides and crew cut on top but she could pull it off though.

  Jazzy had a beautiful face, round cheeks, flushed naturally pink. Her eyes were made-up heavily. She loved her make-up. She was still a doll and I loved her. She was the only one I trusted with my hair.

  Please, Lord, Jesus, I prayed. Don’t let her give me a haircut like hers. It would not look good on me.

  Then I gave her my hand and I my trust and let her pull me up where I was sitting letting my nails dry. Jazzy guided me to her chair on the other side of the salon.

  She had covered the mirror, so I couldn’t watch what she was doing. It was now one o’clock and we had not even started.

  Jazzy mixed and huffed and mixed some more. I was getting nervous watching her mix things like a mad scientist. I swallowed hard. When she was ready, Jazzy pulled my hair through a cap so how bad could it be? Then she slapped the color on my head. Now we waited.

  She talked about her latest man, Alfred. I wondered how old he was. No one would name their kid Alfred these days, would they?

  She talked about her interfering mother. Constantly in her business. I couldn’t relate to that, I told her. My mother never cared enough to stop drinking long enough to care about anyone or anything.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie,” she said. “I keep forgetting about her.”

  I patted her hand.

  She asked about wedding plans. I told her all about them. We had finally found a dress for Lacey. Then, we talked about Lacey and Brodie Steward. Every woman’s dream to become Cinderella swept away from her sweaty, dirty job as a welder by a handsome prince. In this case, the President of the company where she worked.

  “She deserves it,” Jazzy informed me.

  Yes, she did, and I was a lousy sister for being jealous of her. I needed to apologize later.

  Then Jazzy washed and rinsed out my hair an hour later. My scalp was tingling from the peroxide. She removed the cap. Now for the cut. No razors I told her. She rolled her eyes at me.

  “Quiet,” she informed me. “You promised I could have free reign.”

  I closed my eyes and let Jazzy do the cutting. Wet strands of hair plopped on my nose. She brushed them away. She cut, and she cut and I almost cried. I couldn’t see what she was trimming off my hair, but I knew it was a lot.

  She did use a razor on the back of my neck but that was the only place.

  Then Jazzy called Amber to her chair. She was their Master, Make-Up Artist. She dabbed a little of this on me and that. She put some highlights here and there. I expected to look like a clown.

  Amber, Alexa and Jazzy stood back. “Are you ready?” Jazzy asked me.

  I nodded. I need to be honest, fear gripped my gut. I was sure that I would hate this new, look.

  She flipped my chair around and tugged down the towel covering her mirror at the same time. I didn’t look like a clown at all.

  I looked beautiful.

  Jazzy had softly highlighted my hair with ashy blonde highlights that accentuated my skin tones. Both Lacey and I tended to be darker like our Dad and we tanned easily but we had our mother and Uncle Eddie’s blonde hair and blue eyes. Mine had gotten darker to more of a dirty blonde or mousy brown over the years where Lacey’s had stayed blonde.

  She cut it short in a pixie style cut that flattered my face. I smiled at the image that stared back at me. Amber had used a sheer foundation that allowed the few freckles I had to show through. She accentuated my eyes and full pouty, lips with soft color. I thought I glowed.

  “Whatever you used, Amber I want it,” I said to her.

  “I’ll get it ready for you at the counter,” she replied and walked away to get the cosmetics together.

  Jazzy gave my shoulders a squeeze. “You were scared,” she said.

  I nodded. “I look beautiful, Jazzy.”


  “Oh honey, you’ve always been beautiful. You just need to learn to let your freak flag fly a little.”

  I didn’t want to cry. I would ruin my make-up.

  “Now get out of here. Go show that man of yours how beautiful you look.”

  I glanced down at me as I slipped out of the chair. I couldn’t go to Steward like this. I paid at the front counter another two hundred for the cut and color and one hundred for the make-up. I cringed when the receptionist rang me up. I was going to have to dip into my savings account to pay my credit card bill this month.

  Then I headed to Cam’s boutique. I needed some new clothes. Always being afraid there would never be enough I scrimped. Not as bad as Lacey did but I was still cheap.

  When I entered the store, Cam greeted me from behind the register. She met me halfway across the store she hugged me. “My gosh, you look amazing.”

  “You like it?” I asked touching my hair, feeling just a little self-conscious still about the newness of it all.

  “Like it? You look like a different woman. Davy isn’t going to recognize his fiancée.”

  That is exactly what I was hoping for.

  “Cam, I need your help. I dress like my grandmother,” I declared. “Or a college drop out.”

  She laughed at me. “No, you don’t. You could use a little help. A few updates here and there.”

  She took me around the store. Handing me things that my wardrobe was missing. Some stylish tops that I could wear out with Davy instead of shorts and a t-shirt from Target. Skinny jeans that looked like they would fit Lacey before she got pregnant. Cam promised they would fit me.

  She also handed me some skirts and dresses. I wore scrubs to work every day, so I didn’t need a lot of clothes. I hadn’t treated myself to new things in a very long time. So long, I couldn’t tell you the last time I had purchased anything for myself.

  I tried on clothes until I had decided to take it all. Total at Cam’s boutique, two thousand dollars. The credit card company called me to ensure that it was me that was using the card. I verified the purchase and it was processed successfully.

  “Cam, could I change into the skinny jeans, the platform sandals and the white, three quarter length, sleeve, silk, button, down?”