Always the Wedding Planner,Never the Bride

by Sandra D. Bricker

  "Uh, yeah," he replied as he walked in a little further and closed the door behind him. "It wasn't too bad coming from Marietta." He slowly folded in half and sat on the edge of the queen-sized bed, fiddling with the cuff of his suit coat.

  "Oh, good."

  When he looked up, Andy nearly gasped. He didn't think he'd ever seen Sherilyn look as stunning as she did just then. The captivating thing about her, the thing that set her apart from any other woman he'd ever known, was that she genuinely had no idea how beautiful she really was. Her hair glistened like spun silk with abundant, full layers falling well past her shoulders. Her astonishing, sparkling eyes drew him in as she smiled, carelessly poking a rhinestone earring into place as she did.

  "You look dreamy," she told him. "I've always loved that charcoal suit."

  She turned and faced her reflection in the mirror over the writing desk, smoothing the front of her simple tailored green dress, and turning a few of the emerald beads around the slightly scooped neckline. Andy enjoyed watching her, and he was almost sorry when she caught him doing it.

  "What?" she asked innocently. "Do I look all right?"

  "You look perfect," he replied.

  Andy rose from the bed and took a couple of steps toward her. She turned around to face him, and he pulled her into his arms.

  "About today," he said softly, pausing to breathe in the distant citrus fragrance of her hair.

  "There's no need to even talk about it," she said, squeezing his arm before she pulled away. "It just wasn't the right house. We'll find one. There's no rush."

  "Well, I thought—"

  "Come on. Let's head downstairs. Emma and Jackson will already be waiting."

  They stepped onto the glass-enclosed elevator, and Sherilyn slipped her arm through his. "I just know you're going to love them as much as I do."

  Ten minutes into the smoked salmon bruschetta appetizers, Andy knew she'd been right. He and Sherilyn hadn't had much opportunity to spend time with other couples, and Emma Rae and Jackson seemed like a perfect fit, both for each other and as the couple across the table from Andy and Sherilyn. They were personable and comfortable to be with, and Emma brought out a relaxed, familiar disposition in Sherilyn that he'd often imagined he might glimpse only in the company of the family she didn't have. He figured Emma was as close to family as there was going to be, and he liked the effect.

  After they'd chatted about Anton Morelli's exquisite menu, Sherilyn decided on the pumpkin ravioli while Emma ordered grilled salmon with pear vinegar. Jackson and Andy both played it predictable with the prime rib.

  "So can I assume that it's official?" Jackson asked Sherilyn. "You're starting to work on Monday morning?"

  "Absolutely," she nodded. "I'm so grateful for the opportunity."

  "We both are," Andy added.

  "I can't believe I get to work with my girl again, Jackson!" Emma exclaimed, leaning against him for a quick shoulder bump. "It's going to be so much fun."

  "Have you had the time to make any wedding plans?" Jackson asked, and Andy's stomach clenched slightly.

  "Oh, no," Sherilyn was quick to answer. "We're toying with the idea of a small ceremony here at the hotel, but we haven't chosen a date or set anything in stone."

  Jackson chuckled. "You may be the calmest bride I've ever met."

  Emma and Sherilyn exchanged flickering smiles.

  "Well, there's no big rush to the altar or anything," she replied. "Andy and I have known each other for only a few months. We're taking our time."

  We are?

  Andy tried not to reveal his confusion, but when had he and Sherilyn ever taken their time to do anything? They'd met and become engaged in record time, and two weeks later they were each packing up their Chicago homes to move back to Atlanta so Andy could accept the job at the Sports Injury Center.

  Taking our time!

  "I know how I feel about Andy, and how he feels about me. I don't need a wedding ceremony to prove what I already know."

  Jackson shook his head before raising his glass. "Impressive. Here's to solid relationships. May God bless the world with more of them."

  The Top 5 Bridal Flowers

  1. Roses

  Roses have long been the stuff that romance and fairy tales

  are made of; they are the quintessential wedding flower. Each

  color has a special meaning (for instance, red signifies passion

  while white speaks of purity and innocence), and the specific

  types of roses are as varied as the color spectrum.

  2. Calla Lilies

  An elegant, trumpet-shaped blossom symbolizes "magnificent

  beauty." The calla lily is most often seen in ivory hues;

  however, it is also grown in colors such as pink, purple,

  yellow, and orange.

  3. Tulips

  Tulips represent lasting and consuming love, and they are

  grown in a variety of shades, from barely-there pastel to

  vibrant and bold. There are three main types of tulips, all

  of which can be used in bouquets, centerpieces, and/or

  eye-catching arrangements.

  4. Peonies

  The peony is a strong, full blossom with a distinctive

  fragrance and bright, showy color. Primarily available from

  late spring until early summer, peonies can also be imported

  during autumn months.

  5. Gardenias

  The sultry fragrance of the gardenia is its most well-known

  feature. The ivory petals are extremely fragile and bruise

  easily; however, the blossom is surrounded by large, waxy

  dark green leaves.

  5

  When you said you didn't need a wedding to tell you what you already know, I seriously think Andy threw up a little."

  Sherilyn chuckled as she swiped a layer of gloss over her lips.

  "You played that so cool, Sher. I'm proud of you."

  "You don't think it was sort of dishonest? I mean . . . What goes around sure does come back around, doesn't it, Em?"

  "Sherilyn, you and Andy are meant for each other. He's not going anywhere."

  She sighed as Emma gave her a loose embrace.

  "How about Jackson?" Sherilyn said as she dabbed at the corner of her eye with a tissue. In a deep, preacher-on-thepulpit voice, she mimicked him. "May the Lord God above bless this planet with more rock-solid relationships like ours!"

  Emma poked her elbow into Sherilyn's side. "Cut it out. Jackson already has a notch on his husband belt. He's got to work up to the next one at his own pace."

  Sherilyn slipped the tube of gloss into her bag and leaned on the counter. "How long ago did his wife pass away?"

  "It's been a few years now. But he had a hard time thinking about moving on in the beginning."

  "He must have loved her very much."

  Emma nodded. "Whatever time he needs, that's how much time I'll give him."

  Sherilyn tapped her heart with the palm of her hand. "I'm happy for you, Em."

  They shared a quick embrace before making their way back to the table where a hurricane-force wind of a man stood over Jackson and Andy.

  "Chef Morelli," Emma whispered as they moved closer.

  "You're kidding."

  "No. Why?"

  "Him and Pearl?"

  "Oh, I know. It's a conundrum."

  The man turned toward them and started speaking in Italian to Emma as he embraced her. As he looked curiously at Sherilyn over her friend's shoulder, she couldn't help noticing that he resembled Jack Nicholson . . . if Jack packed on about fifty pounds, added a big clay nose, and let his eyebrows grow into shrubs.

  "Come here," he ordered her once he'd turned Emma loose, and he waved Sherilyn toward him with one large arm. "You plan the weddings."

  "Y-yes. Yes, I do."

  "Why?"

  Sherilyn paused a moment, flustered. "Why do I plan weddings?"

  "Si. Lei deve essere u
na di QUELLE persone! You like-a the details?"

  "Details? Yes. I do."

  "You like-a the ravioli, too," he stated, not as a question but as a sort of declaration.

  "It was wonderful."

  Always the Wedding Planner, Never the Bride

  His thin lips turned upward into a broad smile, and Anton nodded. To Jackson, he said, "Si. She will work out just fine."

  "I think so, too," Jackson replied.

  "You," Morelli said, directing his intensity back at Sherilyn. "Sit down. I will send you dessert."

  "Oh, thank you, but—"

  "Il tiramesu dolce farla piange."

  Sherilyn looked to Emma, then to Andy.

  "He says his tiramisu will make you cry," Andy told her.

  "Oh! Well, all right. Umm, thank you."

  Without another word, Morelli stalked away from them and burst through the kitchen door.

  The waitress filled their coffee cups as Emma and Sherilyn resumed their places at the table. She placed the linen napkin on her lap again and leaned timidly toward Andy.

  "You speak Italian?" she whispered.

  "Mm-hm."

  What else don't I know about you?

  Sherilyn's focus was broken by the beaming smile on Emma's face. "I have a surprise for you."

  Narrowing her eyes and grinning curiously, Sherilyn asked,

  "What is it?"

  "Sheri, Sheri, quite contrary. How does your garden grow?" Sherilyn spun in her chair and flew to her feet. Her enthusiasm carried her toward Gavin Travis and straight into his arms. He smelled gloriously familiar, like spicy cologne and the distant scent of an expensive cigar.

  "I can't believe you're here," she cried, and Gavin rocked her from side to side, smoothing her hair with the back of his hand. "I was wondering when I'd get to see you."

  "Emmy told me you were having dinner tonight, and I thought I'd swing by."

  $ 61 |

  "Dad, we're about to have dessert," Emma said as she approached, and she kissed him on the cheek. "Come and join us."

  Gavin slipped his arm around Sherilyn's waist, and the two of them made their way toward the table. Jackson rose to his feet and shook Gavin's hand.

  "Good to see you."

  "Good to be seen."

  "Andy," Emma said, "This is my father, Gavin Travis."

  Gavin smirked at Andy and pushed his hand toward him. "So you're the man who thinks he's worthy to marry my other little girl."

  Andy smiled. "Yes, sir, Mr. Travis. Glad to meet you. Will you join us?"

  "Don't mind if I do." Jackson pulled up another chair to the end of the table, and Gavin sat between Emma and Sherilyn.

  "Did Emmy tell you I've moved back to Atlanta?"

  "She did tell me. I'm so happy to hear it."

  "The circle is complete, now that you're back too."

  Sherilyn's heart just soared. During her college days with Emma as her roommate, Gavin had taken on the role of Father Figure, and her fondness for him had only blossomed over the years. Every now and then, after she'd returned to Chicago, he would ring her on a Sunday afternoon, and the two of them would chat about the weather and politics and whatever else suited them on any given day.

  "You haven't called in a while," she pointed out. "How are you doing?"

  "I am right as rain, little girl."

  "And Avery? Where is she tonight?"

  "She and Jackson's sister have their heads together on a charity fundraiser they're putting together. Something about children."

  "Pediatric AIDS," Emma informed them. "Mother and Georgiann are chairing a gala."

  "Gala this, gala that. With Avery at full throttle, Atlanta is the new Home of the Gala," Gavin declared. "Next thing, they'll be putting it on the welcome sign at the edge of town."

  The five of them made coffee and tiramisu last for nearly two hours but, when she finally said goodnight to Gavin at the lobby door, it was with great regret.

  "I've really missed you," she whispered to him.

  Gavin took her shoulders with both hands and held her there. "Don't be a stranger, Sheri."

  "You either, Gavin."

  He embraced Emma and gave her a kiss, then smacked Jackson and Andy on their shoulders before making his exit. Emma and Sherilyn looped their arms together and watched him go.

  "Have I ever thanked you for letting me borrow him?"

  "No need," Emma replied. "There's more than enough of him to go around."

  "Goodnight, Andy."

  Andy propped himself up by the doorjamb, and he took a minute to study his shoes.

  "Did you want to come in?" Sherilyn asked him when he didn't budge.

  "Is that all right?"

  "Of course."

  She dropped her evening bag to the desktop, and she slipped into the wingback chair on the far side of the bed. Crossing one leg over the other, she leaned back and let her hands come to rest atop the arms of the chair.

  "Gavin is quite a character, isn't he?" she asked. "I adore him."

  Andy sat down on the edge of the bed, facing her.

  "Is something wrong?"

  He swallowed, wondering how to shepherd his thoughts into one coherent question.

  "Do you . . . still . . . want to marry me?"

  One corner of her plump pinkish mouth twitched. "What kind of question is that?"

  Andy wrung his hands for a moment before leaning on them. "I just wondered because at dinner you made the comment that there's no rush in making wedding plans."

  "Well, there's not. Is there?"

  "I kind of thought we were on the fast track."

  "Oh." She fell silent for a moment, and Andy watched her inspect her hands. She twirled her engagement ring once before speaking again. "Well, I don't really think we have to hurry, do you?"

  Andy's mouth went dry, and he narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. "Sherilyn. Have your feelings changed?"

  "No," she said confidently, smiling. "I love you with all my heart."

  He sighed. "Good."

  "Do you love me?"

  "Yes!" he exclaimed, and he popped to his feet. "Of course I do."

  Andy reached out for her and guided her to her feet, and he stood very close to her for a moment before kissing the top of her head.

  "I adore you."

  "But . . . do you want a life with me? A married life?"

  Andy held Sherilyn's face with both hands and looked into her turquoise eyes. "There's nothing I want more."

  "Because the thing is, Andy . . . Well . . . Why did you freak out?" she asked, and she pulled away from him gently. Sidestepping him, she walked to the balcony door and peered outside.

  He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her. When she dropped her head back against his shoulder, he sighed in relief.

  "I'm sorry."

  She turned around and faced him, sliding her arms around his waist. "You couldn't get out of that house fast enough today, despite the fact that it had everything we said we wanted. The location is perfect; it's move-in ready."

  "I know." He almost couldn't look at her. He dropped his gaze and focused on the reflection of the beading around the neckline of her dress.

  Sherilyn touched his chin with one finger, drawing his gaze up to hers. "Then what happened?"

  He shook his head. "I'm not sure."

  When he didn't expound, she sighed and took a step back from him. "Listen, Andy. I understand better than you could possibly know. But I don't want to plan on marrying a man who isn't absolutely sure."

  "It's not that I'm not sure about you."

  "Isn't it?"

  He groaned inwardly. How could he tell her he had no doubts when clearly he'd been immobilized by them, if only for a few minutes earlier that day? But as he swam around in the inviting blue ocean of Sherilyn's eyes, all traces of those doubts were washed away in the surf. All he wanted, all he would ever need, stood right there in front of him. He was certain of it.

  Taking her face into his hands once again, A
ndy pressed in for a soft kiss.

  "I love you," he said. "The whole house thing had me looking much farther into the future than committing to you and getting married. It was suddenly about kids and mortgages and college tuition."

  "You don't think those things scare me too?" she asked him with a bitter laugh. "Even though it feels like we've been part of each other for a lifetime, Andy, I haven't even known you for six months."

  "That worries you? I thought you said you were sure." "I am sure. And no one is more surprised by that than me! But then you behave the way you did today, and I start to think I might not know you as well as I thought I did, that I might be in this by myself. That's the part that scares me. I don't want to wake up one day on our third or fifth anniversary, and look over to find a total stranger next to me. Or worse yet, walk down the aisle and look around to find out I'm there all alone."

  "I'm not a stranger, Sherilyn. You know me."

  "Promise?"

  "I promise. And I'm sorry about today. It was a momentary lapse."

  "Are you sure?"

  He questioned himself before answering. "Yes."

  "Because maybe you only bounced back when you thought for a minute that you might lose me. You know what they say about a bird in the hand."

  "Here's what I know for certain," he reassured her, and himself. "A life without you in it is no life at all."

  She appeared to mull that over for a long and frozen moment. When she finally tilted that perfect pink mouth into a grin, her strawberry hair gleaming and her blue eyes glistening, Andy's heart started beating again. And he hadn't even realized it had stopped.

  "Well, I figured there's probably some kind of girl code about after care. Like it's something only we can know, something we don't share with the male species."

  "By penalty of . . . I don't know what!" Fee declared. "But it's good that you didn't spill everything you knew. After care is a trade secret for women. If men knew about it, they'd only louse it all up."

  Sherilyn propped her elbows on the stainless steel worktable and giggled as Fee twirled the cookie gun in her hand like some sort of gothic version of Wyatt Earp. She held it up and blew on it, as if blowing the smoke from the barrel of a gun, before pressing it down to a cookie sheet and pulling the trigger again and again, leaving behind three rows of perfect little blue and white flowers.