Lovestruck Forever

by Rachel Schurig

  “That’s much more like it,” Maria said, coming up to the pedestal to inspect the dress more closely. “It’s gorgeous.”

  “Maria,” I said, my voice already weary. “It’s everything I said I didn’t want.” I pointed to various areas of the dress as I spoke, my fingers jabbing harder into the material the longer my list got. “A sweetheart necklace. A corset back. Pick-ups in the skirt. Way too much fake-looking beading. And tulle! Tulle, Maria. A poufy, scratchy, giant fluffball of tulle. The number one thing I said I didn’t want.”

  She crossed her arms, but I went on before she could argue. “Why would you think that I would like this dress when it specifically is filled with the things I said I didn’t want?”

  “Because,” she began, her voice sounding just like someone explaining something obvious to a small child. “Just because your think you don’t like something on the hanger doesn’t mean you won’t like it when it’s on. This is your first time trying on dresses, Lizzie. You need to have an open mind.”

  I scowled at her, ready to go off on a tirade, but Laura spoke up.

  “She does have a point, Lizzie—” she held up a hand at my outraged face. “Okay, maybe not about the tulle and the pick-ups. But you should see what you look like in different silhouettes and necklines. You really have no way of knowing what will look best on your figure without trying them on.”

  “Fine,” I ground out through clenched teeth. “I am willing to try on a variety of silhouettes.” Before Maria’s smile could turn smug, I jabbed my pointer finger in her direction. “But no tulle.”

  “Fine,” she agreed, her smile turning smug anyway. I picked up my skirts and marched off the pedestal, wishing, not for the first time, that Sofie could have sucked it up and joined me.

  The next two dresses were also my sisters’ choice, a heavy satin ball gown (no tulle in sight, thank God) and another mermaid with a much more subtle, natural shape—a fit and flare, according to Tonya.

  “You know,” Maria said thoughtfully, staring at me in the mirror. “I assumed a ball gown would be most flattering on you, but I’m actually liking this fit and flare for your figure. It makes you look taller.”

  “And the ball gowns made me look short and stumpy,” I snapped. “I wonder who could have predicted that? Oh, wait, I did.”

  “Don’t be catty, Lizzie,” she said, circling the pedestal. “I think this might be the best shape for you. But it’s a little plain…”

  “Plain?” I asked, dismayed. The dress had a smattering of crystals at both the neckline and waist. It was about as far as I felt comfortable going in the bejeweled spectrum.

  “Do you love it?” my mother asked. “I think Maria is right, the silhouette is very flattering. But that doesn’t matter if you don’t love it.”

  I peered at myself in the mirror. The dress did hug my curves and lengthen me. The simplicity of it and the cut actually reminded me a lot of the dress I had worn to Thomas’s Darkness premiere in London, which was the night I felt most beautiful in all of my life. But I’d also felt not quite like myself that night, like someone who was dressing up to fit into a fancy party. It had been exciting and exhilarating, but was it the way that I wanted to look on my wedding day?

  “I like it,” I finally said. “But I don’t think I love it.”

  “That’s okay,” Tonya said, and I wondered how much patience you would have to have to do a job like hers. There must be a lot of indecisive brides out there. “We’ve narrowed down what basic shapes you like, so now we can be more picky in our choices.”

  She must have caught sight of the eager look in Laura’s eyes because she quickly continued, “I think it would be easiest if I pulled the dresses, though.” She smiled at both of my sisters. “It’s very easy to get overwhelmed and off track with too many choices.”

  She was being nice, cheerful even, but the warning was there all the same. Stay the hell out of my dressing room. I could have hugged her.

  I tried on dresses for another forty-five minutes as I became more and more despondent—and slightly bored. I had come in knowing just what I thought I wanted, and my sisters had, of course, shot that to hell with their interfering. The annoying thing was that they were right—I did look better in a fit and flare than in an A-line, which did little for my larger than average hips. But knowing that only made me feel more confused than I had when I started. I couldn’t decide what kind of fabric I liked, what level of embellishment. When I confessed this to Tonya, she patted my shoulder. “I think you’re thinking too analytically now, dear. The perfect dress for you will be more than just the sum of its parts.”

  By the time our appointment drew to a close, I was no closer to a decision. My mother and Laura assured me this was normal, that I was under no obligation to find a dress on the first try, while Maria quietly mumbled about the fast-approaching deadlines.

  As I turned into our long, tree-lined driveway, I was feeling frustrated and let down. A day I had looked forward to for so long had ended up being a big bust. I felt even farther from my dress than I had before, and now I felt the pressure of not having made a decision. What if I couldn’t ever find something that I liked? Callie often made me watch those wedding dress shows on cable, and I had always scoffed at the amount of importance they put on a dress they’d wear for just one night. But now that it was my actual wedding, I understood their plight much better. What if I ended up like one of those girls who looked and looked for months, trying on hundreds of dresses and exhausting entire stores worth of inventory?

  And, I thought morosely as I got out of the car, Sofie hadn’t even been there to make me feel better about it all. And Thomas wasn’t here now, to listen to me bitch and moan for a while before kissing me and convincing me it would all be okay.

  I went inside, fully planning on going straight to my room to lie down with a good book. But Sofie had other plans—she met me at the door, her eyes wide and red. She’d clearly been crying.

  “I am so sorry,” she wailed, bursting into tears again as she threw her arms around me. “I am the most selfish, spoiled, terrible cousin. I cannot believe I missed that, Lizzie.”

  Surprised by the quick turn, I was a moment late in returning her hug. She quickly released me, staring into my face. “You’re mad, aren’t you? Of course you are. I would be furious if you pulled this shit on me.”

  “I’m not mad,” I said quickly. “I mean, I was, but—”

  My words brought fresh tears. “Of course you were. This day was important. We’ve talked about it forever. And I skipped out on you, completely let you down, all because I was too worried about my own silly little problems—”

  Fearing she was on the verge of hysteria, I grabbed her arm and pulled her into the kitchen, pushing her into one of the kitchen chairs. “Okay, first of all,” I said soothingly, rubbing her back as she hiccupped, “your problems are not silly or little. You have every right to be freaking out about things, Sofie.”

  “But you’re the one that’s helping me,” she wailed. “You’re the one that took me in and is supporting me. You’re the one I should be there for, no matter what. And what do I do instead? Send you off alone to…to…find your wedding dress!” She sobbed the last words, so upset that I actually felt like I might start giggling soon. She was acting like she had committed the worst crime against humanity. While I’d been plenty annoyed at the time, it was hard to be pissed at her now.

  “And it’s all because I was feeling depressed and sorry for myself,” she continued, sniffling loudly. “What kind of a person am I?”

  “A hormonal one,” I said, hoping she didn’t take offense. “It’s normal to have mood swings when you’re pregnant, Sof.”

  “You think—” she hiccupped loudly, “—that I’m hormonal?”

  I bit my lip to keep from laughing at the wide-eyed incredulity. “Maybe just a little,” I told her, patting her back again. “And that’s okay.”

  She shook her head, her still-uncombed hair flipping back a
nd forth. “It’s not okay. I missed you picking out your dress. It’s all I’ll be able to think about during your wedding, how I wasn’t there for you.”

  “Just be there next time,” I said.

  “What do you mean?”

  I sighed, plopping into the chair next to her. “No dress. I couldn’t decide.”

  I thought she might sympathize, but her entire face lit up. “So there’s going to be more shopping? I didn’t blow my chance?”

  “Nope. I have a feeling there’s going to be a lot more shopping.”

  She made a face. “That bad?”

  “Let’s just say I was subjected to the very best my sisters had to offer.”

  “Oh God,” she moaned. “I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll be there next time to hold them off.”

  “You better, Sof.” I patted her hand kindly. “I’m very sympathetic to your plight, dear cousin, but if you ever leave me alone with my sisters for something like this again, I will kick your pregnant ass.”

  Chapter Twelve

  I spent the next several weeks traveling back and forth between Detroit and London. I wasn’t quite getting over to see Thomas every other week, as we had initially planned. It was just too difficult to do that much international travel, particularly with the work I was now putting in on revising my manuscript with Ciara. The book was coming along nicely, but I missed Thomas.

  So I was in a particularly good mood as mid-July approached. Thomas and Annie were invited to attend Comic-Con in San Diego. As one of the best-known conventions of all things pop culture in the entire world, it was a pretty big opportunity for them to promote the upcoming Earth’s End. They’d be speaking on a panel as well as attending a sneak preview of the film. In addition, Thomas had a panel scheduled with the Darkness cast to discuss the next installment, due to start shooting in the spring. There would also be a dizzying array of industry parties and events, all of which were bending over backward to get Thomas to agree to attend.

  His shooting schedule in London now getting particularly tight, Thomas had to fly directly to San Diego, where I would meet him at the hotel. Sofie drove me to the airport. She had finally managed to stop puking at the slightest provocation, and was thus feeling much better. However, she still refused to so much as talk to her parents.

  On our way to the airport, they called her cell—a daily occurrence. “What if they’re trying to apologize?” I asked as she threw the phone down in disgust, unanswered.

  “What difference will it make?” she asked. “They’ll apologize and then what? I go back home? You know it doesn’t matter how many times they say they’re sorry, they’ll be right back to their old ways the minute I’m back in their house—the disappointed looks, the little sighs. The not-so-subtle encouragement for me to try and “work things out” with the baby’s daddy. No thanks.”

  “You wouldn’t have to move home,” I reasoned. “Taking their call and hearing what they have to say doesn’t have to change anything—you can still stay with me, you know.”

  “Oh, I plan on it,” she said happily. “In fact, I plan to take baths in your giant whirlpool tub the entire time you’re gone. I’m going to use all that fancy bubble bath Thomas brought you back from Paris.”

  “You better not,” I warned.

  “And I’m going to walk around naked all weekend,” she went on, ignoring my protests.

  “You keep your naked pregnant ass off my furniture, Sof.”

  She merely cackled mercilessly.

  “What about Laura’s baby shower?” I asked quietly, deciding to ignore her attempts at distracting me from the conversation by pissing me off.

  I could sense her stiffen next to me. “What about it?”

  “It’s next month. Will you be there?”

  She was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t know, Lizzie. I don’t want to miss it. I love Laura, and I know how long she’s wanted this baby. I just…I don’t know if I can handle it. All of our female relatives in one room? Every one of them will know that I’m knocked up out of wedlock. You know they’ll all be talking about me.”

  “They’ll be talking about Laura,” I insisted. “She’ll be the focus.”

  “I doubt she’ll be the focus for my mother. I’m assuming she RSVP’d already?”

  “Of course.”

  “And my sister, too.”

  When I nodded, she made a little scathing noise in the back of her throat. “Well, then.”

  I paused, not wanting to upset her. “Look, I know it will be hard. And I’m not going to tell you what to do. But I think you’ll end up feeling bad if you don’t go. Remember how shitty you felt when you ditched me for the dress shopping?”

  She nodded, silent.

  “You’ve always been close with Laura,” I pressed. “She loves you.”

  “I love her, too.”

  “Her baby shower is kind of a once-in-a-lifetime thing.”

  “She could have another baby,” Sofie argued.

  “And when has our family ever thrown a shower for a second baby? This is a big deal for her and you know it.”

  She didn’t respond and I sighed, struggling not to get frustrated with her. “Just think about it, okay?”

  “I will. I promise.”

  I decided to drop it, knowing there was no point in nagging her. I hoped she would attend. I would do anything I could to make the day more comfortable for her. That was the best I could offer.

  We arrived at the airport a few minutes later, and Sofie pulled up to the curb at departures. “Have so much fun, you lucky brat,” she said cheerfully, grabbing me for a hug. “You better get me some autographs.”

  “I’ll do my best,” I promised.

  ***

  My flight was smooth and uneventful. I was surprised, however, at the sight of Thomas waiting by my gate when I got off the plane.

  “What are you doing here?” I cried, shocked.

  He held out his arms. “I haven’t seen you in two weeks. I don’t even get a hug?”

  I threw myself at him, making him laugh before he hugged me back, hard. “God, I missed you, love.”

  “I missed you, too!” I pulled back just enough to look up into his face. “But what are you doing here? I thought your schedule was packed and we were meeting at the hotel.”

  “My flight got in late. When I realized you’d be here in less than an hour, I decided to just wait for you.”

  I grinned up at him. “I’m so glad you did.”

  Ever the gentleman, Thomas slipped my carry-on tote from my shoulder and transferred it to his own. “Let’s go get your bag.”

  Once we were safely in the back of Thomas’s hired car, I snuggled into his chest. “I can’t believe you’re here. I didn’t think I’d be seeing you until later.”

  “I just couldn’t wait,” he said simply, and I felt the familiar flutter of butterflies in my stomach. I wondered if he would ever not make me feel this way—I couldn’t imagine it. Not if he kept doing things like skipping important networking lunches with celebrities and movie execs just to spend a few extra minutes with me.

  “How’s the movie going?” I asked, though he’d been filling me in regularly during our nightly phone calls.

  “Fantastic,” he said happily, his entire face lighting up. I listened while he told me about the shoot, marveling at how much more excited he was than he’d been last year while shooting in Los Angeles. He had hated the stress and pressure of living and working in Hollywood. I made a mental note to encourage him to take more roles in the UK than in L.A. in the coming years.

  Our hotel was close to the water and the famous Gaslamp Quarter. “Fair warning,” Thomas said as the car pulled up in front of the glass and stone facade. “There are tons of movie people staying here for the Con.”

  I scrunched up my face. “I’m going to embarrass myself, aren’t I?”

  He nudged my chin with his hand. “I’ll do my best to keep you informed of everyone’s names.”

  I made a face at
him and he laughed. “Sorry, love. It’s not my fault you’re hopeless with famous faces.”

  I sighed as I climbed out of the car. “I really do need to take Callie and

  Imogen up on their offers to give me celebrity-sighting lessons.”

  The photographers seemed to come out of nowhere. I hurriedly shoved my left hand in my pocket to hide the ring—I’d been trying to be much more careful about leaking wedding news since the rumors started in London. Thomas was much more composed. He slung a lazy arm around my shoulder and gave the photographers a quick wave and smile as he led me into the hotel lobby.

  “Wow,” I remarked, impressed. “You didn’t let that bother you at all.”

  He shrugged, leading me over to the reception desk. “This is a work thing. Comic-Con is a huge deal, I expect there to be photographers and reporters. What pisses me off is when they bother me—or, worse, you—when we’re just out doing normal, personal stuff.”

  The man in front of us finished checking in and turned to leave the counter when he caught sight of Thomas. “Hey, Harper,” he said, reaching out his hand to shake Thomas’s free one. “Good to see you here, man.”

  “You, too,” Thomas said. “Franklin, this is my girlfriend, Lizzie.”

  “Hello, Lizzie,” he said cheerily before turning his attention back to Thomas. “You gonna be at the Entertainment Now party?”

  Thomas laughed. “Of course. See you there?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  The man smiled at me one more time before waving and heading off to the elevators. “He was nice,” I said. “Where do you know him from?”

  “Lizzie, that was Franklin Davis.”

  I stared at him blankly.

  “Franklin Davis? From the Waterville movies?”

  I only shrugged and Thomas shook his head. “We need to sign you up for those celebrity-sighting classes ASAP.”

  ***

  Thomas was very busy the entire time we were in San Diego. The studio had scheduled a good number of interviews and events for him and Annie to attend outside of the conference. Then there were the conference events themselves. Before his first panel, I waited with Thomas in a meeting room that had been repurposed as a dressing room, and he told me all about the flashy, red-carpet party we’d be attending the following night. According to Thomas, the Entertainment Now party was the biggest ticket of the entire week. “Publicists get fired over failing to secure an invitation,” he told me. “Every producer who matters will be there.”