Three Weddings and a Dress

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Three Weddings and a Dress Page 7

by Mary Martinez


  Remorse flowed over her in tiny waves. As it had every day since she’d made her decision. “I know. I spoke with him, and he doesn’t want to marry me either. Knowing he’ll lose his job and position is the one thing I’ve been battling. He’s intelligent he’ll be able to go anywhere and build a career. His clients will follow him.

  “The firm may not fire him. He’ll be there tomorrow to marry me in good faith. I hope Broderick will understand and not take it out on Chandler. Which is why I didn’t confide my plan. He’ll be as surprised as everyone else. I have a feeling someday he’ll forgive me.”

  Silence settled over the table, a nice way of letting her know none of them thought Broderick would be so forgiving. “Okay you’re right perhaps I’m hoping for too much. I do feel guilty. In the long-run I have to believe things will work out best for both myself and Chandler. What other options do I have?”

  Joy sipped her drink then slapped it on the table. “Guys, we all know Cecie doesn’t have any other choice. We promised to watch her back. Making her feel guilty isn’t helping. Let’s toast to things unfolding as planned and then I believe we all have our duties to accomplish before the rehearsal dinner.”

  “Where, we will all put on an academy award-winning performance.” Fanny clinked her glass to each of theirs, then waited for Joy to lift hers.

  “Here, here!” Skye agreed.

  After the toast, Cecelia brought up the subject of furniture and the discussion turned to a debate of the merits of rent-to-own while she searched the furniture stores for bargains or spending the next day scouring the second hand stores for bedroom furniture. She finally decided to rent her bedroom furniture and decorate the rest of the apartment one piece at a time.

  “Cecie, I believe it’s time we pick up the mothers’ surprise then it’s off to the bank.” Skye waived for the check.

  Cecelia swallowed.

  Now for the hard part, did Broderick Wilson have the bank manager monitoring her account for what she was about to do?

  She wouldn’t put it past him. The very reason she was doing it close to the end of the day on a Friday. Cecelia hoped the bank manager would be gone for the day.

  She needed luck to be with her.

  ****

  With a pendant for each of the mothers’ in her bag, she was on her way to deal with her account and meet Skye at her bank. The plan was simple; withdraw everything except a few dollars. That way she wouldn’t actually be closing the account.

  She hoped it would avoid any type of alert.

  The next step would be to place her savings in Skye’s safety deposit box until her name change was final and she could open her own. Everything except the money she needed for her lease and spending money to buy necessities until then.

  She stepped into Bailey’s Bank with only fifteen minutes to do her transaction and meet her friend. A feeling of accomplishment began to swell over her. That is until she spotted her father in the manager’s office. A fireball ripped through her tummy in dread.

  Why now? Oh good Lord, it was the last Friday of the month he always dropped off the deposit. She’d been too busy worrying he’d have her accounts monitored, she completely forgot to consider she’d run into him.

  Broderick could ruin everything. She could not let that happen. Gulping down the dread of a public scene, she went to the teller and calmly handed her the prepared withdrawal slip. No alarm crossed the teller’s face that would indicate her father had alerted anyone. While the girl counted out the money, Cecelia glanced over her shoulder. Her father stood, he shook the man’s hand. She quickly faced the teller again so he, hopefully, wouldn’t notice her.

  Her good luck ran out.

  “Cecelia? Shouldn’t you be at the church?” She turned blocking his view of what the teller was doing. “I thought you had a meeting with Father Oliver.”

  “Hello, Broderick. Chandler and I are meeting with him after the dinner. I had to pick a surprise for Mother and Mother Evans. I’m just grabbing some cash…” She raised her eyebrow and gave a playful grin. She hoped it was playful anyway. “…for the honeymoon. I plan to shop.”

  As hoped, her father chuckled, patted her shoulder. “Okay, I’ll see you at the dinner then.”

  The breath she’d been holding left in a whoosh as he cleared the bank doors, none the wiser of her plans. She turned to the teller to retrieve the funds.

  The young girl raised a brow of her own. “You must plan on an awful lot of shopping.”

  “Yes, I do.” Cecelia tried to stifle the euphoric feeling the spread through her. She still had the last step, putting her money in Skye’s safety deposit box, then dinner to get through before she celebrated.

  Dear Diary;

  Rehearsal Dinner

  My bride has not arrived yet. The room Mrs. Wilson placed me in is cold. It shouldn’t be. It’s decorated to please the eye. The knowledge I’ll never be worn by Cecie shivers over my ivory and lace. Though I’ve known from almost the moment I was placed in my bride’s bedroom we weren’t meant for each other, I’m still disappointed.

  I can hear voices in the hall. I know tonight is the rehearsal dinner. No one can know what is in store for the wedding day. I sucked in my bodice and prayed nothing goes wrong.

  My not-to-be-bride walked in. Her gaze fell on me and my ribbon warmed. Reverently, she ran a hand down my bolero sleeve, and a shimmer raced after her touch. I wished things could be different. I hope someday I’ll be able to find my soul mate and things will be as they should.

  “Cecelia, you’re right, Bella is a magnificent gown. It almost makes me want to rush out and snag a guy and get married.” Skye, my bride’s feisty friend, let out a gusty laugh. “Almost.”

  My chapel train ruffled in warmth at the grin my bride tossed in her friend’s direction. “Skye, I cannot wait until you find the guy who could drag you to the altar.”

  Rae, Joy and Fanny, Cecie’s other good friends walked through the door at that moment. Fanny shut it behind her with a snap. Though Cecie called her four friends, BFF’s I still hadn’t figured out what it actually meant.

  Fanny glanced in Cecie’s direction then stared at Skye, “You and the altar? What did we miss?”

  “Nothing, Skye was admiring my dress.” Cecie ran her hand over the lace Heidi had lovingly stitched to my bolero.

  “Something you’re not telling us, Skye?” Rae’s voice had a bit of laughter in it.

  “God no! My day to wear one of those…” Her finger pointed at me as if she were accusing me of something. “…is still a long way off, if ever.”

  “You’re having too much fun being single,” Joy charged.

  “You bet your ass I am. I intend to keep having fun too.” Skye turned to my Cecie gave her a stern look and said, “And now you can start having fun with me.”

  I swear I could see the twinkle in Cecie’s eye when she answered. “Can I have some fun with that cute owner of Pandora’s?”

  “Fanny?” Skye raised an eyebrow in her direction.

  What and who was Pandora’s? I did my best to shiver the question through my beads, anything for them to appease my curiosity.

  “Freak!” Rae gasped and stared in my direction.

  “What?” The others chorused and turned their regard on me.

  Exhilaration raced from my buttons down the back to my train. Had I actually caused a stir to race over my satin? Maybe if I concentrated enough I could communicate.

  “We’re going to be late for the dinner.” Rae pointed to the clock above my mannequin stand.

  Disappointment smacked me right in the bodice.

  Chapter Seven

  Cecelia surveyed the room. Her friends had entered and taken their seats at the table. A buzz dangled over the area with several conversations at once. She’d hung back and so far no one had noticed her lurking at the edge. Her father and mother, as usual, turned away from each other speaking with the person on their opposite side.

  This could have been her in a few years. How
had she ever thought she could live like that? At least now she wouldn’t find out if it were even possible.

  Glancing around the table, she saw her empty chair. Chandler was flirting with her cousin Sally. Her mother had insisted she be in the wedding party. She’d never liked the girl. Instead of suppressing her feelings, she let herself relax. It felt good. Chandler and Sally would make a good marriage. Maybe after the commotion settled in a few years, she could suggest it.

  Everyone’s attention turned in her direction and for a moment, she wondered why. Then realized she’d actually laughed out loud at her own thoughts of match making. Nothing to do but make the best of it, she took her place at the table.

  “Hello, Chandler.” Everyone seemed to be waiting for her to set precedence on how to proceed. What exactly was she supposed to say or do?

  Being new at the marriage game, she wasn’t sure. She plastered a smile on her face, directed it at her family and friends and waited.

  “Where have you been all day? I’ve been trying to call you?” Chandler’s whisper was hot over her ear.

  Glancing in his direction, she leaned into him and smiled as if an intimate tête-à-tête was taking place. “I accidently left my cell phone in my room. I haven’t been home, so I still don’t have it.”

  The scowl cleared. He was handsome. If only things could have been different.

  “Did your mother tell you Father Oliver wanted to meet with us before the dinner?” Surprise chased away her relief.

  “I told mother I wouldn’t be able to meet you. She promised to change the meeting for after the dinner.”

  Chandler looked like he was about to continue, but her father clinked a fork against his glass. “I’d like to make a toast to my daughter and Chandler.”

  Glasses rose around the table. Apprehension shivered over her. What could he possibly say?

  “May tomorrow be the happiest day of your life.”

  Hallelujah, a toast she could drink too. Liberation from Wilson and Evans would be the beginning of many happy days to come.

  Clinks and murmurs of agreement ran the gamut around the guests. She stood and raised her glass. Dinner hadn’t been served, and at this rate, they’d all be hammered by the time it was. All the better for her to get through the night.

  “Thank you, everyone for joining in our celebration of a new beginning.” Again, everyone raised their flute to their lips.

  Ignoring the look of disbelief Chandler gave her, she bent to retrieve her bag. Usually it was custom to give the gifts to her attendants in the bride room, but since she wouldn’t be there, now was the best time.

  “Tomorrow I want to concentrate on making the day perfect.” She winked at her betrothed, and hoped she wouldn’t have a permanent twitch because of the subterfuge.

  Reaching into her purse, she brought out the gaily-wrapped packages for each of her bridal party. She laid them on the table and pulled out the two boxes with the pendants. She slid her chair back, went to Chandler’s mother, wrapped an arm around her shoulder and rubbed her cheek next to hers. And then placed the present in front of the woman.

  Her mother was next with a soft kiss to her forehead, she wrapped both arms around her and held on. Who knew how long it would be before she would enjoy this luxury again.

  “I thought you both would remember this day fondly.” There were gasps of delight, and everyone struggled for a chance to admire the jewelry.

  “Now for my attendants, thank all of you for taking the time to help with all the preparations for my special day.”

  She picked up the blue bag. She’d always hated blue. “Sally?” The girl pulled her attention from Chandler and frowned at Cecelia. Ignoring her pout, she handed Sally the gift. “Thank you.”

  The passing of gifts was a time-consuming activity, everyone sipped on their champagne as they watched her call each name and hand them their special souvenir. She couldn’t have planned it better. The minute hand inched toward the hour when she could go home, and sleep for the last time in her own bed.

  She saved her co-conspirators for last. “Rae, Skye, Joy and Fanny you have been the best friends a girl could ever have.”

  Couldn’t the water works wait for a bit longer? Cecelia gulped to force the tears down. “I really couldn’t find anything that could express how I feel, so I hope you all know.”

  “Oh God, Cecie, this is gorgeous.” Fanny had ripped the tissue out, then flipped open the box. The tiny diamond twinkled where it nestled in the midst of emerald chips in the shape of a shamrock. Fanny’s favorite.

  Each pendant for her BFFs meant something.

  “Thank you,” Joy said sniffing and throwing her arm around Cecelia’s shoulder for a hug.

  Her friends surrounded Cecelia in the warmth of a group hug. Sniffles abounded while her family and friends snapped photos to record the occasion.

  Cecelia hoped she’d be able to see some of them. Somehow she doubted she’d be very popular with her family and relatives tomorrow at this same time.

  Dessert had just been cleared, it was now or never to slip out without Father Oliver catching her. Almost to the door, she heard her name called, frustration cramped her belly. Slowly she turned to face Chandler.

  “We have the meeting with the Father.”

  She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Do you really think we need to go?”

  He glanced over her shoulder then matched her whisper. “No. Shall we make a run for it? Our last show of independence?”

  She grabbed his hand to pull him through the door. Once out in the fresh air, she let out a carefree laugh. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” He tilted his head and studied her for a moment. “I thought you’d be more depressed since we didn’t find our loop hole.”

  “You would think, huh? You’re not so bad Chand. And you know what?”

  “What?”

  “I agree.” She faced him took his face in her hands, leaned in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “We would make great friends.” She dropped her hands then turned toward the parking lot. Glancing back for a moment when she heard him call her name, his expression was more quizzical than bewildered. She gave a wave. “See you.”

  He’d assume she meant tomorrow.

  ****

  Her room seemed empty without Bella draped by the window. As if a good friend had left. It had become habit to talk about her daily routine. Which really didn’t make sense, but it made even less to say the words aloud to an empty room. With the dress it hadn’t seemed like she was having a one sided conversation.

  Now she was talking to herself. Nutcase!

  Rolling to her side, she punched her pillow shaping it for more comfort. Didn’t work. Tossing to the other side, she squirmed for a good position.

  Truth be told, she was too excited about the next day to sleep. Her parents may hear her if she called one of her friends. Letting out of sigh of aggravation, she flipped the light on and pulled a book out to read.

  The book fell to the floor with a thud and woke her. The clock indicated three in the morning. She switched the light off then snuggled under to try for more rest.

  Unfortunately, she was now wide-awake, again. What could she do with her time? Draping her robe around her she padded to the desk and flipped open her computer.

  An hour later, she had a list of second hand furniture shops she’d visit that day.

  She was to arrive at the church at ten. The stores opened at the same time, and she planned to be at one. Surfing the web had uncovered many treasures. Excitement tightened her chest when she found a site of Manhattan thrift shops, flea markets and vintage clothing.

  Pay dirt.

  Grabbing her notebook, she scribbled down all the addresses and then pulled out her new subway map and planned her day. At least the time spent was productive and by the time morning light dawned, she was ready for battle.

  She’d heard the term, Retail Therapy. Fit perfectly.

  Now her biggest worry was escaping a rid
e with her parents to the church. She had a plan.

  Damn, she was getting good at them lately.

  After her shower, she readied for the day. Sensible shoes on her feet, her bag ready, cash on hand, she ripped a clean sheet from her notebook.

  Mom, too excited. I’ll meet you at the church.

  Dropping it on the middle of her freshly made bed where it wouldn’t be missed. She made sure she had her cell phone and any other essentials that hadn’t been in her bags and delivered to her new apartment the day before.

  Stealthily she inched her bedroom door opened. Waited, nothing but silence greeted her. Just as carefully, she closed it. Turned and almost ran into Carla. Sucking in a breath, she debated what to say.

  The housekeeper leaned in, her words barely discernible as she whispered them in her ear. “Your parents are still in bed, hurry while you have the chance.”

  Shock billowed up from her soul. Carla knew. Throwing her arms around the woman, she whispered a quick thank you. Without a backward glance, she softly skipped down the stairs.

  Outside their brownstone home, she let the fresh air fill her lungs.

  Half-hour later, probably longer, she entered the Java Café for a much needed cuppa. And by nine on the nose she was entering the first store on the list—one of the early openers.

  Where to start? She let her glance wander the room. As with the subway, she was new to this. She’d never purchased a stick of furniture in her life.

  For an educated woman, she was sure ignorant of the most elemental things in the majority of people’s lives.

  Might as well browse, eventually she’d see something that piqued her interest. Wasn’t that the fun of bargain hunting?

  She noted her watch and realized it was time for her to be at the wedding, what would her parents be doing? Her friends would fill her in on the details that night. They were going to order in Chinese at her new place and celebrate.

  A table, that’s the ticket. No, first, a bed. She could hardly sleep on the floor. Wait she planned to rent-to-own the bedroom furniture. She was mixed up with all the things to remember twisting and turning in her mind. And sheets… good grief she couldn’t think like this, it would overwhelm her.

 

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