Three Weddings and a Dress

by Mary Martinez

  I have great admiration for Carla.

  “Mrs. Taylor. I may have found a deal on this beautiful gown, but it is still a Heidi by Design. We have the certificate to prove it.”

  Animosity hung thickly over the room.

  I must be the unluckiest gown ever designed by Heidi.

  My first bride didn’t want to be married to her groom.

  My second bride and groom are crazy about each other, but their families hated each other.

  Chapter Ten

  “We’re late.” Jessie could see their reflection in the large windows as she ran to keep up with Mark’s long strides eating up the sidewalk.

  “It will be okay. We’re only picking out flowers.”

  Jessie laughed a little, Mark was right. It wasn’t as if they were late for their own wedding. In Manhattan the Salon’s clients were probably late more often than on time.

  “Arabella Davis sounded like she already had something planned for us.”

  “Yes she did. And I know you’re going to like it.” Mark picked her up at the waist and swung her around. A huge grin crossed his handsome face. “I love you Princess, I can’t wait until we’re baking away in Margaritaville.”

  Jessie couldn’t help the giggle that slipped out. “I think it’s wasting away, Mark.”

  He set her to her feet at the door, pulled it open with a flourish. “Royalty first.”

  “You’re late.”

  Not the sweet voice of the woman Jessie had spoken with on the phone. Sucking air into her lungs, she squinted trying to focus in the dim indoors.

  “Mother, why are you here?” Marks words dashed like cold water over her happiness of just minutes before.

  “Someone has to take you two in hand. If you refuse to take my advice and insist on this…” Her head swiveled to encompass the interior of the entry his mother didn’t need to voice her thoughts.

  The words were written plainly like an open book across her sour features.

  A soft gasp followed her words. Jessie’s vision had adjusted and she saw a young woman standing behind the harridan that was Mark’s Mother.

  As cheerfully as she could, Jessie stepped around Mrs. Taylor and held out her hand. “You must be Arabella Davis. I’m Jessie Perez and this is my fiancé Mark Taylor.”

  Let him introduce his mother.

  “Nice to meet you both.” She smiled and then glanced uncertainly toward Mark’s mother who stood to the side disapproval radiated from every pour. “And you must be the mother-of-the-groom?”

  Thank goodness, she hadn’t mistaken her for Jessie’s mother. The explosion would have rocked the Empire State Building.

  The woman loosened up enough to give the girl a quick nod. “Yes I’m Claudia Taylor, Mark’s mother.” She pointedly looked at her watch. “Can we hurry I have a hair appointment.”

  It took an iron will but Jessie was very proud of herself for not asking her to leave now then. God bless him, Mark didn’t show any restraint.

  “Mother, I told you, we have everything under control.”

  “Yes, that’s what I’m afraid of. Which way?” Without waiting, she marched down the hall away from the other three.

  “Please tell me she’s headed the wrong way.” Mark’s tone was dry as summer straw.

  Arabella gave a short snort before she answered. “She is. Hurry, come follow me.”

  Jessie followed the woman in the opposite direction. Mark close on her heals as if wanting to escape before his mother came to a dead end and found her way back.

  Arabella wasn’t exactly what Jessie had expected. She dressed like someone out of the 70’s, though the girl was her own age, if not a few years younger. Jessie was jealous of how her blonde hair hung down her back in a loose braid, tendrils escaping everywhere. If Jessie had worn hers that way, it would look as if she hadn’t combed her hair for days, but on Arabella it looked artfully disarrayed.

  A long flowing floral skirt and a baby doll top—anyway that’s what her mother would call it—completed the hippy look. Until Jessie saw Arabella’s feet, of all things, she wore floral rain boots. Jessie held in the chuckle threatening to escape.

  It wasn’t that she was laughing at the girl, she simply found her delightful.

  All thoughts of the wedding planner vanished as Jessie stepped through the doorway into the magical kingdom. The beauty caused something around her heart to squeeze. Moisture blurred her vision.

  “It’s perfect.”

  Though she’d whispered, apparently her words had carried to Arabella. “Everyone loves the Atrium, it’s lovely all year round.”

  Mark clasped Jessie’s hand in his, to pull her to the center. “We can have your garden wedding even if it snows. Unlikely this time of year, but you never know.”

  Unbridled joy swished around her senses. She clasped her hands around Mark’s giving a gentle squeeze. His chuckle warmed her.

  “Oh Arabella, this is… I can’t think of another word. It’s just perfect.”

  “Call me Ari.” The shortened name fit her better than Arabella. The girl walked to a small corner where a desk hid behind a large bush. “I’m really sorry Darlene our regular florist isn’t here to go over her ideas. She didn’t want you to catch her cold.”

  Jessie stared at the array of blooms around the walled glass. “No I don’t want her cold…” Her words were absent, not really paying attention. She gently touched the velvet petals in every color of the rainbow, seeing the image of her day in its full glory.

  Ari gave a warning combination cough and clearing her throat type noise. “Oh, Mrs. Taylor I wondered where you’d gone.”

  Jessie spun and there was her soon to be mother-in-law. Or was that dragon-in-law? A flush of temper radiated over the woman’s cheekbones.

  This was one unhappy woman.

  “How dare you?” Breaths came in soft gasps, her chest raising and falling in sync.

  She did a hop-skip-bird-like dance to her son and stuck her nose, or maybe that should be beak, in his face. “You did that on purpose.”

  Jessie spun on her heel, so much safer to study the purple orchard in full bloom center stage of the atrium than to try to console the shrew. Let Mark. She caught of glimpse of Ari, her lips pressed holding in a chuckle. That would be so bad if either of them dared laugh.

  “Now, Mother, we didn’t know where you were going.”

  “Don’t you ‘now, Mother’ me young man. Not one of you tried to stop me.” Her tone held an underline of hurt.

  Jessie felt a tinge of guilt, and dared a glance over her shoulder, then noticed the calculating gleam in the woman’s eyes. Exactly the emotion she wanted Mark to feel.

  Guilt.

  Exasperation warred in Mark’s tone, he laid a hand on his mother’s arm to steer her toward the door. “Mother, the regular florist isn’t here today. Ari will only be showing us a few ideas. We’re not making any decisions today. Why don’t you…”

  Jessie strained but the rest of Mark’s words were swallowed by the hall where he’d led his mother.

  She would never leave if she thought for a moment Jessie was really selecting her floral arrangements today.

  Mark strode into the atrium under a thundercloud of irritability. “Mother has one of her ‘headaches’. Apparently her hair appointment will have to wait.”

  Now irritation curled around her chest. “You have to leave, right?”

  His hands settled on her shoulder, pulling her in to tuck her head under his chin. “I’m so sorry princess. I trust you to pick the very best.”

  Swallowing down another round of disappointment, maybe this wedding business wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. “I wanted to do it together.”

  Her voice sounded like a ten-year-old. Was it too damn much to have her fiancé be part of the decisions for the wedding?

  “I know. But do you want my mother to help?” Weariness seemed to cloak over him.

  Poor Mark he had to deal with his mother and try not to piss Jessie off i
n the bargain. A juggling act he’d been doing since they’d announced their engagement.

  Time to cut the guy a little slack.

  “Go, but if I have all the groomsmen wearing daffodils in their hair you better not complain.”

  “You’re the best, Jessie.” His lips brushed hers and turned on the call of the crane—whoops, from his mother.

  She closed her eyes a moment, composed herself until she could plaster a smile on her face. Then she turned toward Ari.

  The assistant had a commiserate expression, “Come on, Darlene has some fabulous mock ups for you to see.”

  “You seemed to take that little drama in stride.” Jessie joined Ari at the desk hidden in the far corner.

  A laugh bubbled out of Ari, “Oh I’ve seen so much worse.”

  “No way.”

  “Yes, way. I could write a book.”

  “You should.” Calm seeped into her shoulders to loosen the vice that had clamped them.

  Ari snorted. “And get sued? What do you think your future crone-in-law would do if I put this in a book? No, I would rather keep it filed away to remind me why I never want one of those.”

  Jessie tilted her head to regard the young woman. She’d bet they were about the same age. Ari was too young to be so cynical.

  Curious, Jessie asked. “You never want to get married?”

  Ari had been in the process of flipping through the portfolio. She glanced up at the question. “I never said that. I just don’t want the baggage. I’m looking for a transplant.”

  “Transplant?”

  “You know someone who’s not from Manhattan. Chances are mama will be miles away.” She shrugged, smirked and went back to her search. “Here it is.”

  Ari twisted the book around for Jessie could see. “Darlene asked me to show you pictures of the Carlson and Pender weddings. She wants to do a combination for yours. After you look them over, I’ll show you the mockup of what she has in mind.” Ari sighed. “I wish we could do some kind of virtual mock up on a computer so a bride could see what her wedding could look like.”

  “That would be awesome.” Jessie smiled, Ari looked so despondent about not having whatever computer thing it was, she figured it must be a sore spot with her. Jessie lifted a shoulder then turned her attention to the books. “Oh, look at these. It’s a girls dream, as if to prove to the world fairy tales do come true.” Excitement tickled her scalp. Would hers come true or would Mrs. Taylor ruin everything?

  “Now look at Darlene’s ideas,” Ari said.

  With each page, anticipation at seeing the final results clutched Jessie. How she wanted to see the Atrium filled with the bright flowers and blooms Darlene had in the portfolio. She had no idea what kind of flowers they were. Growing up in a small apartment mid-town, didn’t lend to knowledge of gardening.

  She knew what she liked, and she loved the plan. Though Ari was correct, it would have been better had she been able to see something on a computer.

  “Yes. It’s perfect.”

  Ari smiled. No, the girl beamed, as if she were the one getting married. “I knew you would. I’ll write up the order. Is there anything else you want to add?”

  “No.”

  “Darlene had an idea to integrate the design into the cake. It will be in the center…” Ari leaned to point to the middle of the garden. “…On that dais. Surrounding the tables will be beds of red tulips it will give the impression the cake magically raises from the focal point.”

  A lump clutched her windpipe, she couldn’t breathe. She wanted the fairy tale more than she’d realized.

  “Are you okay?”

  Swallowing didn’t help so Jessie nodded. Shit, here came the water works. It was Mark’s mothers fault. Mrs. Taylor was the only person in the world who could make her doubt herself.

  Make her wonder if she were good enough for Mark.

  “Hey come on, you’re scaring me here.” Ari smacked her on the back.

  Gulping in air deeply to fill her lungs to calm herself and dislodge the lump, Jessie was finally able to answer. “I’m okay. It’s a bit overwhelming to see your dream developing into reality.”

  Ari regarded her shrewdly, “And you’re scared something might happen.”

  God, was she that big of an open book? “How did you know?”

  “I see young brides every day, remember the stories I could tell? You have the look.”

  “The look?” Jessie gave a sniff.

  “Your beautiful wedding, the flowers, the cake it’s almost a reality. You want to pinch yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming.”

  The belly laugh that bubbled up and out felt good. “Man you do know this business. Keep going, so far you’re right on the money.”

  Ari giggled along as she brushed her blond braid off her shoulder. “And you’re worried you’re knight in shining armor’s mother, who resembles Lizzie Borden, may ruin your fairy tale.”

  Jessie couldn’t control the gasp. What had started as laughter had turned to a storm of feelings she’d been holding in for months. Ari had come too close, even though only in jest.

  A gentle arm settled over her shoulders, “Let it out. I’m sorry, Jessie. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  Wiping her arm across her eyes, Jessie straightened, the air rushed through her mouth and over her teeth. Another swallow and she almost controled herself.

  Almost.

  “Are you okay now?” Ari leaned away to look her in the eye. “You’ll have your day.”

  “I’m the one who’s sorry. I usually don’t fall apart on people, especially if I barely know them.”

  “No problem. Weddings are emotional. Do you want to see the design for the cake Cassie drew up?”

  Ari flipped another book opened and the cake dazzled. Jessie gulped back another round of drama. She’d probably be asked to leave and never come back if she broke down again.

  Everything was exactly how she’d dreamed it would be.

  So why did she have a feeling it would never come to be?

  Dear Diary:

  Bridal Shower

  Something is wrong with Jessie. She’d had such high hopes about picking out flowers, cakes and what-not at the wedding place. When she came home, alone, I knew she was upset.

  Carla trailed behind her into the room. “Hija, tell me. Did you decide?”

  Jessie stood in front of me staring. I don’t think she saw anything. Anyway, not anything in the room, it was all inside her mind. As if she watched a movie of the day she’d just had.

  “Jessie?” Carla’s tone questioned. She knew something was wrong too.

  I wanted to reach out with the sleeves of my bolero and take her in my embrace. I swear my lace shivered in my need. Maybe this time I even managed a slight movement, for Jessie focused on me in confusion.

  “Jessie?” Carla repeated.

  Jessie turned to face her mother. I could see her shoulders slump. My bodice constricted at the anguished cry she gave as she threw herself into her mother’s arms.

  “Mama…” Her wail of distress ripped over my beads. What had happened to cause my bride such despair?

  “My little Hija, what did Mark do?”

  “Mrs…” A sniff, then Jessie’s back shivered in emotion. Carla cuddled her closer.

  “Okay what did that hag do this time? Did she tell you the flowers were too cheap?”

  I wouldn’t put it past the woman to say something like that. However, I didn’t think Jessie would be this upset over a statement.

  No, something else the wench had said was much more terrible to my bride.

  “Mark took her home.”

  “Honey, you didn’t get to pick out your flowers? I’m…”

  “No mama, I did.”

  Carla led Jessie to the bed and had her sit next to her. The two were facing me now and I was able to see Jessie’s tears gather again for a repeat performance.

  “They were…” A hiccup erupted and Jessie hung her head between her shoulders. “…pe
rfect.”

  Perfect? I didn’t understand.

  Carla shook her head as if she did though, her arm whipped around her daughter to snuggle her close. “Don’t worry baby I will not let that woman ruin your day.”

  Dawning finally ripped over my lace.

  “Jessie, I won’t let her. Come on you need to put on your happy face.”

  Sometimes people say the weirdest things. How can Jessie put on a ‘happy face’? I let that pass, because I more or less understood Carla wanted her daughter to cheer up.

  I had every confidence Carla wouldn’t let Mark’s Burlap bag-of-a-mother ruin Jessie’s day.

  So what was up?

  “Mama, I just want to be alone for a while, is that okay?”

  “Jessie, did you forget your bridal shower?”

  “That’s tonight? Oh freak.” Jessie’s gaze flew to the clock, she bounced off the bed as if someone had given her an energy boost. I was glad to see her rebound.

  I wanted to find out more about this shower. Did they all take it together or something?

  Chapter Eleven

  Jessie combed her long black hair in the mirror. She could see Bella behind her. Sun shimmered on the shiny beads over the dresses’ bodice. Something else she wouldn’t experience if Mark’s mother had her way.

  Twisting around on the chair, she regarded the white satin. “Bella, what am I going to do with you?”

  Weird, Jessie swore the dress tilted a fraction to the side in question. Ever since she had the gown hanging in her room, she’d become fanciful. The oddest thoughts flittered across her mind.

  She shook her head to get the strange ideas out of her mind and turned to finish putting on her makeup for her wedding shower. Soon her friends and relatives would arrive to wish her well.

  Would Mrs. Taylor be over her headache and make an appearance? She hoped not.

  Standing, she tilted her head to stare at the ceiling. She really should feel guilty about her thoughts.

  Damn it, she didn’t.

  The door blew open. Startled, she swung around as two little balls of energy launched at her.

  “Come on, Jessie, we’re here.” Missy her Aunt’s granddaughter had always been able to state the obvious. Jessie figured it was her age.