Always the Designer, Never the Bride

by Sandra D. Bricker

  "Speaking of which," Andy chimed in, "does everyone in this room know that Sherilyn and I are expecting a baby?"

  There's a second story to this house, Audrey pondered. I wonder if that's tall enough for a successful jump from the roof.

  Top Three Hairstyle Techniques

  for the

  Vintage Bride

  1. Finger Waves

  Ridges placed in product-saturated hair using fingers

  and a comb.

  C- or S-shaped waves in one direction and then the other.

  2. Pin Curls

  Comb a segment of hair into a ribbon and shape the ribbon

  into a pinwheel-type circular curl, overlapping as needed.

  Secure with a bobby pin or clip.

  3. Barrel Curls

  Comb out wet segments of hair and roll loosely over fingers.

  Once completely wrapped, secure with a pin or clip along the

  underside of the curl.

  9

  Emma and Sherilyn had prepared an impromtu supper of pasta primavera and greens salad, and every bite satisfied. Audrey wondered if she had ever been able to spontaneously whip up anything remotely like it for even two people, let alone for a whole group!

  Sherilyn sat tucked on Andy's lap, a perfect fit, and looking for all the world like she belonged there; Sean and Fee went about the business of creaming their cups of coffee, arms interlocked as they did, and stealing quick, loving glances; Jackson stood at the kitchen counter putting the final touches on a cup of tea that he delivered to the table in front of Emma before he stroked her hair fondly and sat down beside her; the soft hum of conversation between Russell and Kat wafted in from the living room where they both sat on the floor in front of the unlit fireplace, Henry's big head collapsed in Russell's lap as he stroked the dog's fur.

  J. R. seemed oddly solitary on the other side of the dining room table, his chair wedged into the corner, an untouched cup of coffee sitting before him. Despite being engaged in conversation with Andy and Sherilyn, Audrey wondered if J. R. felt as singular as she did. Reminded of a What's Missing From This Picture? puzzle she'd once seen in the newspaper, she grinned, and J. R. looked up just in time to catch it. The smile he returned appeared lopsided, and the amusement in his eyes delighted Audrey.

  "I think it's time for me to get back to the hotel," he announced without breaking eye contact with her. "Do you want a ride back?"

  She nodded and immediately got to her feet. "I'd love that. Thank you."

  Audrey rounded the table and leaned down to give Fee a hug.

  "Thank you for the help with my dress," Fee said as they embraced.

  "Are you kidding? I had a wonderful time. I appreciate being part of your day." She pressed her hand on Sean's shoulder and smiled. "Congratulations to both of you."

  The journey from table to front door was an extended one as embraces and chit-chat paved the path. When she had just about reached the door, Audrey turned back to look for J. R. and found Jackson standing behind her instead.

  "Audrey. I'd like to talk to you about something privately. Can you come to my office tomorrow morning?"

  The request took her completely off guard. Nodding her head, she stumbled over her reply. "Uh, y-yes. Of . . . of course."

  "Around ten?"

  "Um, sure thing."

  He squeezed her shoulder and smiled. "I'll see you then."

  Scenarios raced through her mind as J. R. handed her one of the helmets in his arms and they stepped outside.

  "Thanks for coming," Sherilyn said, and she and Andy waved at them from the porch door. "Drive safe, J. R."

  "You know it."

  They climbed aboard the bike and slipped on their helmets. Audrey wrapped her arms around J. R., and they sped down the driveway and around the curve of Sherilyn's street. All Audrey could see or think about was Jackson's request for her to come to his office. It seemed rather obvious to her. Emma had let on like the room was going to be taken care of, but perhaps Jackson had vetoed that idea and wanted to make payment arrangements.

  I hardly have anything left to my name with no prospects for the future. What kind of arrangement can I agree to?

  "Want to take the long way home?" J. R. called back to her.

  "I don't think so," she returned. "I'm really tired."

  He nodded. Without further discussion, he steered them to the main road into Roswell. Twenty minutes later, he walked her to Room 210.

  "Do you want to come in?" she asked, hoping it didn't come off as a halfhearted invitation.

  "Is there anything I can do?"

  She tilted her head and considered his question. "I'm sorry. What do you mean?"

  "You're out of sorts tonight. Is there anything I can do to help?"

  She sighed. "Not really."

  "Then I'll leave you to your thoughts."

  "I'm sorry, J. R."

  He shook his head and ran a hand through his mane of shaggy hair. "No need. But I'm here if you change your mind."

  Audrey smiled. "Did you ever feel like life had something against you?"

  He inspected the tips of his boots, nodding his head. "Life can be unreasonable that way sometimes, can't it?"

  "You said it."

  J. R.'s smile ignited, and he opened his arms to her. "C'mere."

  She stepped into his embrace and sighed. The man had awesome arms, that was for certain. Burying her head in the crook of his neck, Audrey thanked him.

  He planted a kiss on her temple and rubbed her back vigorously for a moment. "Call if you need anything."

  "I will, J. R. Thank you."

  After she closed the door between them, Audrey wondered if she'd made a mistake in sending him away. Even if she hadn't opened up the gates and unleashed every worry, every fear, every disastrous calamity of her tangled-up life, it might have been nice just to sit quietly with J. R. and let his light flood over her for a while.

  She stood there, leaning against the door, and she sighed. Kicking off her shoes on the way, she plopped down on the bed and stared at the phone. Just two numbers into dialing Carly, she glanced at the clock and thought better of it. She hung up and pulled the drawer on the nightstand open. The menu caught her attention for a moment and she grabbed it, but she wasn't the least bit hungry. A leather-bound Bible got in the way when she tried to replace the menu, so she pulled it out of the drawer. She sighed and flipped it open at random.

  "Isaiah, chapter fifty-four, verse eleven," she read. Someone had underlined the passage with a bright green pencil.

  O you afflicted one,

  Tossed with tempest, and not comforted,

  "Yep," she said aloud. "That's definitely me."

  Behold, I will lay your stones with colorful gems,

  And lay your foundations with sapphires.

  "Starting when?" she asked no one in particular, and she closed the Bible and replaced it. "Because now would be a very good time to toss some gems my way, if anyone is so inclined."

  She sat perched on the edge of the bed in silence. She kicked her bare feet for a moment, then examined her bright red toenails. Before she sensed the approach, a cloud of emotion descended upon her, and Audrey started to cry. After a few minutes of it, she growled a note of surrender, clamped her eyes shut, folded her hands, and bowed her head.

  "Seriously," she prayed. "I've never been one to look for someone to rescue me, but I'm reaching the end of a very short rope at the moment. If You have any rescue left in Your bag of tricks, I'd really appreciate You tossing it my way."

  "Good morning. You must be Audrey Regan. Susannah Littlefield," she offered, and Audrey shook her hand. "Jackson's executive assistant."

  "Pleased to meet you."

  "He's expecting you. Go ahead in."

  The woman's cherubic face radiated, and it nearly helped Audrey leave her anxiety behind at the door. But as she stepped into Jackson's office, concern crested again, and her stomach lurched slightly as he looked up from his desk and smiled.

&nbs
p; "Audrey, thank you for coming in. Why don't you close the door and have a seat."

  She draped the shoulder strap of her purse over the back of the chair and sat down, fidgeting with the hem of her cropped blouse and gently rubbing her hands over the thighs of her light denim jeans.

  Audrey debated about speaking up first and making some sort of offer of reimbursing The Tanglewood for her accommodations; but before she could organize her thoughts, Jackson closed the laptop in front of him and leaned back into the large leather chair.

  "I'll get right to the point," he told her, and her heart began to thump in her ears. She leaned forward to hear him over its beat. "Emma told me you'd had a recent disappointment with losing a prospective client."

  Audrey nodded tentatively.

  "She said you're struggling a little, and we were talking about how much we wished we could help."

  "Well, you've certainly done a great deal to help," she told him with a smile. "I wouldn't have been able to stick around for Carly and Devon if you and Emma hadn't been so generous."

  "About that," he began, and Audrey tightened her grasp on the arms of her chair.

  "Listen, Jackson, I'll try to do whatever you think is fair to pay you back—"

  He raised his hand and shook his head. "You'll do nothing of the kind. If I can't comp a night or two for someone now and then," he said, "what's the use of owning a hotel?"

  He chuckled, and Audrey managed to lift a partial smile in response.

  "Then . . . I don't understand."

  "I think it's a bit serendipitous that you're staying, really. I have a buddy whose daughter is getting married."

  Audrey's eyes instinctively narrowed as she tried to figure out the direction their conversation might take.

  "Just recently, he told me about her situation. So when Emma shared your ordeal with the Renfroe woman, I immediately thought about you."

  She opened her mouth slightly, but there were no words handy. Narrowing her eyes even more, she shook her head, and a little indecipherible noise escaped her throat before she said, "You thought of me . . . ?"

  "Well, Curtis and I play basketball together," he told her. "And we do some volunteer work. Anyhow, his daughter— I think her name is Lisette—she's getting married in three weeks. She's been working with a particular designer on her wedding dress, and the woman has flaked on her. I don't know the whole story. But anyway, she apparently has certain . . . challenges. I don't know if you would even want to step in, but I thought since you're a dress designer, and Curtis' daughter needs a wedding dress . . ."

  He trailed off and stared at her tentatively. When she didn't jump right in, he sighed.

  "Okay. Probably not. Anyway, I just thought maybe—"

  "Oh!" Audrey exclaimed. "No. I'm just . . . processing. I'm sorry. Go on."

  "Then you might be interested in helping her out?"

  "Yes. Of course." On second thought, "You said she has some challenges. What kind of challenges do you mean?"

  "Well, she's apparently quite . . . you know . . ." Jackson made a circular motion with both hands, and a pink blotch rose on his face as he said, "She's a big girl."

  A big girl.

  "She's a very big girl."

  Very—

  "Oh! You mean she's overweight!"

  "Yes," he said, and he sighed. "Exactly."

  "How overweight?"

  "I don't know. Really overweight."

  Jackson was almost adorable in his efforts not to offend.

  "Would you be willing to take a meeting with her?" he asked cautiously. "Just talk to her? The poor girl is just three weeks from her wedding, and now she doesn't have a dress. Emma says, after the cake, most of the wedding is really about the dress."

  "Of course." She smiled at him, trying not to laugh right out loud. "Of course I will, Jackson."

  He sighed noisily. "Really? That's great. I'd really consider it a personal favor, Audrey. This whole family has been very good to Emma and me as we started things up here at the hotel. Curtis is some sort of electrical genius, and he's saved my . . . Well. I really appreciate it, Audrey. I really do."

  "I'm happy to do it. Do you have a contact number, or do you want to have them call me?"

  "I'll get Lisette's number and get it to you later today."

  Audrey pulled a business card from her purse and scribbled her cell phone number on the back. "This is my cell. I'm headed over to Carly and Devon's straight from here, but you can call me on this number any time today."

  "Audrey, I really appreciate it. I know Curtis will, too."

  "I'm happy to help." Audrey grabbed her purse and crossed the office. At the doorway, she turned back and asked, "Is her wedding here at the hotel?"

  "Oh. No. It's downtown somewhere."

  She thought it strange that Jackson's good friend hadn't utilized his stunning hotel for his daughter's wedding, but she shrugged it off and waved at him before tugging open the office door.

  Audrey could hardly contain her excitement at the prospect of an actual design job. Lisette's electrician father probably couldn't afford the kind of thing Kim Renfroe had been looking for, of course, but if the girl had been working with a designer rather than buying something from a bridal shop, at least the prospect of some money was there. Not enough to save her business, but at least enough to pay the most immediate bills until she could figure something else out.

  "I'll take it!" she exclaimed right out loud as she pressed the elevator button and leaned back against the glass wall.

  "I've never designed plus size before, so I'll have to do some research and make a few sketches, but I'm really excited about it."

  "Audrey, this might be a whole new facet to your designs," Kat said hopefully.

  She shrugged and sipped her iced tea. She didn't know about that, but it was a job at least.

  "Does this mean you'll be sticking around even longer?" Carly asked as she joined them at the patio table.

  "I don't really know what it means until I talk to her and see if I'm what she's looking for."

  "It would be so great if you could."

  Something in Carly's voice drew Audrey's focus, and she set her glass down on the table and gazed at her friend.

  "Caroline?"

  That was all it took, and Carly crumpled like a snowflake on the hood of a warm car. She pinched a stream of tears from her eyes and dropped her head into her hands.

  "Carly? What is it?" she asked, scooting closer and wrapping her arms around her friend's shoulders.

  "Devon's going back, Aud. They're sending him back."

  "No."

  "Where's he going?" Kat asked them.

  "Middle East," Audrey mouthed to her before asking Carly, "When?"

  "As soon as the doctor gives the go-ahead."

  "No," Audrey whispered. "Carly, I'm so sorry."

  A steel brace seemed to move into her friend, and Carly sat erect, pounding her fist on the tabletop. "Haven't we given enough?" she seethed, thick rivers of tears flowing down her cheeks. "Haven't we sacrificed enough time together, enough peace of mind, enough—"

  With a throaty groan, she sliced her own words in two, and she thrust her head to Audrey's shoulder with a growl of a moan.

  "I'm so angry," she sobbed.

  "I know."

  "I just want him home. In this country. Safe!"

  "I know. I want that too."

  "It's so unfair."

  "It is."

  Carly lifted her head. "And he's so ridiculously patriotic, which drives me out of my ever-loving mind, Aud. It's not that I don't love my country too . . . It's just that . . . Is it awful to say that I love my husband more?"

  "It's not awful at all," she reassured her, stroking her hair as Carly dropped her head to Audrey's shoulder again. "But remember that Devon's moral compass, and his allegiance to the Marine Corps . . . that's part of what makes you love him so much. It's all part of what makes him the Devon that you love."

  "Not this morning, it do
esn't make me love him," she whimpered. "This morning, it's what makes me want to wail on him and break some bones."

  Audrey and Kat both chuckled.

  "Hey!" Carly said with a gasp, and she sat straight up. "They'd let him stay home longer if he had some broken bones, right?"

  Audrey shoved Carly's head back to her shoulder and held it there.

  "Down, girl. We're not breaking any bones here today."

  Audrey's cell phone sounded from her purse and, as she reached for it, Carly asked, "I've been meaning to ask you. Is that a harp?"

  "It's God calling. He asked for a direct line," she quipped in reply. "Audrey Regan."

  "Audrey? My name is Lisette Gibson."

  Audrey straightened, tapping on the tabletop at Kat as she answered, "Yes! My gown-challenged bride!"

  Lisette laughed. "Word travels fast."

  "Jackson and your father are very good friends. Jackson asked me to help if I can."

  "Well, let me tell you right out front, Audrey. I've got three weeks until the wedding. I'm a size twenty-six, and I have hips that will give you nightmares. I've named my boobs North and South Carolina because they're the size of small states and, if you're actually willing to try and rescue me, you're crazier than I am."

  Audrey burst into laughter. "I'm a fan of the southern states," she finally replied. "Why don't we get together and talk about how best to fly their flags."

  "You sound like my kind of girl," Lisette told her. "When?"

  "Can you come to The Tanglewood?"

  "Any time you say."

  "We're off to a good start, Lisette. Meet me at three this afternoon?"

  "Absolutely."

  "I'll make an appointment for tea in the courtyard and meet you there. We'll talk about what you're looking for and see if I can help."

  "I can tell you that right now. I'm looking for a dress that will make me look like Jennifer Lopez. Think you can pull that off, Audrey?"

  "Well, I can try. And if we can't do that, we'll shoot for George Lopez."