“Are you all right, Annie?” asked Charlotte. She sounded amused and breathless.
I gulped, trying to dig up some dignity. “It’s just that, you look so . . . beautiful.”
Charlotte stepped up on the small platform in front of a three-way mirror. Her head tilted to the side as she looked at herself. A big smile spread over her face.
“Oh, it’s just what I was looking for . . .” She turned to all of us and searched our faces.
“You look great,” Patty said, while Bebe gave the thumbs-up sign.
We all turned to Scarlett and June. They stared fixedly at the dress.
After a long pause, June said, “I don’t know . . .”
What didn’t she know? It was perfect for Charlotte.
Scarlett just stared, her eyes narrowed into tiny slits as she squinted. “Of course, everyone loves the first dress they try on, my dear.” Now the camera focused on Scarlett. She smiled and waved her hand toward the open door of the dressing room with a flourish. “But look at all those beautiful dresses. June and I have chosen some others for you to try on as well. You never know, you might find something you like better.” The other ladies bobbed their heads enthusiastically toward the dressing room. They didn’t want the show to end.
The next dress Charlotte tried on was similar to the first, but not quite as perfect for her. From the less than enthusiastic smile on Charlotte’s face, I suspected she felt the same way.
Then she put on Scarlett’s choice. It was monstrous. Not only did the transparent corset cinch Charlotte like a character in Gone with the Wind, but the dress had more spangles than a circus performer. Jessica, who wasn’t so bored anymore, broke out in laughter the moment she saw it. June kicked her.
“What?” she said, looking back at her mother. “It’s really awful.”
Scarlett ignored Jessica and stood up to get a better look. “It’s a Nina Formosa. Her styles are all the rage this year.” Circling Charlotte, she came to a halt in front of the camera and posed in a flattering stance.
Poor Charlotte. She looked back at herself in the mirror and forced a fake smile, no doubt trying to figure out how to tell Scarlett that it was the most god-awful creation ever conceived.
“If you like this, I will make sure to get you a personal introduction and fitting with the designer. She is a close family friend,” Scarlett purred.
“Let me think about it,” Charlotte said, and I wasn’t the only one who breathed a sigh of relief.
The last dress Charlotte tried was June’s pick. We waited patiently as Charlotte took longer than normal to come out of the dressing room. During that time, Scarlett left a long voice mail that sounded like someone was about to be fired, and Bebe and Patty talked endlessly about what kind of bridesmaids’ dress would go with each gown. The camera crew leaned against the wall, trying hard not to look bored and failing miserably. I could only imagine what men thought of this whole process.
Finally, the door to the dressing room opened. We held our breath as Chantilly lace and organza spilled out like an overflowing froth of whipped cream. Then Charlotte appeared, gently guiding each successive layer of fabric through the dressing room doorway with her hands. Once through, a longer swath of frilly material followed her. As she moved, the sales attendant poofed and fluffed each layer with as much fuss and fanfare as a lady-in-waiting.
The dress was absolutely stunning . . . and completely wrong for Charlotte.
An asymmetrical neckline was fringed with silk rosette flowers that draped over one shoulder and crisscrossed a ruched bodice adorned in crystal flowers. Even more dramatic, the back of the gown dipped impossibly low and was swathed in a trail of silk petals that gathered every few inches to form a train worthy of a Disney princess.
Everyone in the room exclaimed at once.
“Oh my God!” Bebe was the loudest. “You have got to get it!”
“Truly special,” came the self-satisfied response from June.
“This dress is something of an original,” explained the sales attendant. She helped Charlotte stand on the platform in front of the mirrors as the camera crew circled her.
I watched Charlotte carefully. She looked at herself from head to foot and turned to see the back of the dress. “It’s gorgeous. But . . .”
“What?” asked June. “You will make such an impression coming down the grand stairway at the club. Honestly, Charlotte, they’ll be talking about it for years to come.”
“Yes, but it’s really out of my price range.” She told us the price and I was the only one who looked shocked.
“Oh, honey,” said the sales attendant. “Believe me, everyone thinks they can’t afford the dress. But remember, you only get married once . . . Well, I got married four times, but who’s counting?” She laughed at her own joke and looked nervously at the camera.
“You know, honey, we all want this wedding to be perfect for you. I am sure your family and I can work something out to make this happen.” June looked at me for support. She got no response on my end. I didn’t have the financial authority to make this decision. The dress cost more than the total budget my mother had already figured out for the whole wedding.
“No. I told you, June, Henry and I are both working. We want to handle a lot of the costs ourselves.”
Scarlett laughed. “Oh, you kids! You’re so practical these days.” She looked at the camera and leaned forward. “In my day we knew how to enjoy each moment. God, I would have never bought anything or taken a risk if I thought I had to afford it first.”
June and Scarlett nodded to each other. Everyone started talking at once. Except me and Charlotte. She caught my eye in the mirror. Was she pleased? I couldn’t tell.
Charlotte had never been a fussy dresser. Maybe it was our Midwestern roots, but we had always shared a similar taste for simple styles. A little black dress that looked nice on most people was divine on Charlotte. She would do nothing more than twist her hair in a graceful chignon and add a pair of chic earrings and heads would turn. It was her trademark. For all the glitz and glamour of this magnificent dress, the first dress was simply Charlotte. Sadly, I was the only one in the room who felt that way.
It took me a moment to realize that the camera had cut away and was focused on me.
“Well, Annie? What do you think?” Charlotte asked.
Why did I have to be featured in this decision? I didn’t want the responsibility. I felt like a jury foreman who had been told to make the life-or-death decision on the fate of the favorite local son.
The room grew quiet and I saw the camera cut away to Charlotte and back to me.
“It is very beautiful . . . and so is the first dress . . . it was so simple and elegant.” I could feel my face turning warmer under the glare of the other women. “Of course this dress is so detailed and umm . . . well, fancy . . . I can’t imagine the number of hours that were put into making it.” I was blabbering like an idiot. I looked at everyone as they leaned forward in their chairs and at Charlotte, who seemed so unsure. Was she just looking for my approval?
I curved my lips into a smile and hoped my nose didn’t grow longer. “But, if this is the one you like the best, you should get it.”
The other ladies exhaled an audible group sigh. Charlotte glanced back in the mirror and smiled tentatively.
“Well, I know Henry is going to love it! You will be everything a man dreams of in a bride,” said June with a confidence that put me to shame.
Charlotte’s eyes lit up and I knew the moment she made the decision. Her tongue touched her top lip just like it used to when she was a little girl deciding on her favorite ice cream flavor at the Dairy Cow.
“Yes, I think I’ll take it.”
Chapter 4
“Why don’t you just drop us off at the Fifth?” Charlotte asked
June when we climbed back in the limousine.
I had no idea what the Fifth was. And it was the last thing I cared about right now. We had stayed at Bellasposa for an hour,
waiting for Charlotte to work out fitting details for her dress and to wrap up a few shots with the camera crew. After calling to make sure my mother and Aunt Addie were on the mend, I spent the time trying to reconcile the Charlotte I knew and this stranger she had become. She seemed dependent on everyone else’s opinion, especially June Lowell’s.
“The Fifth is Nick’s apartment building. Henry is over at Nick’s watching baseball,” Charlotte explained. “He invited us to come over after we finished this afternoon. Is it okay with you? I know Nick would love to see you.” The mention of Nick made my heart miss a beat.
Oh, this was just perfect. After the scene at the bridal salon, I would probably do my usual foot-in-mouth routine and make an idiot of myself when I was around him. Hopefully there would be no breakable crystal or hornet’s nests.
“Can I come too?” asked Jessica. She perked up at the mention of her older brother.
“No, Jessica. You don’t need to pester everyone,” June said.
“It’s not a problem, June. Really. Jessica can hang out with us girls while the guys watch their baseball.” Charlotte put a hand on Jessica’s shoulder and was immediately rejected as the girl squirmed away.
“I like baseball!” insisted Jessica.
“Well, all right. But have Henry make sure Jessica is home before eight. We have guests coming for dinner tonight and, Jessica, you promised to play piano for us.”
Jessica rolled her eyes and dropped her head back against the seat. “I don’t want to play the stupid piano for your friends.”
“I told the Frasers that you would play for them, dear. We wouldn’t want to disappoint them, would we?”
“Mom, I hate it when you do that.” Jessica rolled her eyes and stared at the ceiling of the limousine.
I couldn’t decide if I should feel sorry for Jessica or not. Sensing my gaze upon her, Jessica turned her head and our eyes met. For a split second I could see the pain of a teenager reflected in her gaze, then she made a huffing sound in her throat and looked out the window, ignoring the conversation in the car the rest of the way.
The limousine dropped us off on the sidewalk in front of a towering high-rise made of glass and steel. This was where Nick lived? As Charlotte and June arranged a ride home for Jessica, I craned my neck to see the top of the building. The neighboring high-rises cast strange shadows across the façade, and I had to shade my eyes from the glare of the sun against the glass.
When we entered the gaping lobby a man behind the desk recognized Charlotte and waved. We walked past endless walls of gray granite toward a bank of stainless steel elevator doors. I tried to shake off my mood. A dull ache had started behind my eyes. I was just tired, I kept telling myself.
The three of us were quiet as we waited for elevator doors to open. When they finally did, we entered and I retreated to the corner with my back against the wall and drew in a deep breath.
“So . . . you okay, Annie?” Charlotte asked.
I paused for a moment. Then I answered very slowly, “I’m okay, Charlotte . . . and you?” It was a simple question, and I wasn’t sure she understood all the meaning I had put into it.
“I’m great,” she said, turning her eyes to the numbers above the elevator door.
Finally we stopped on the twenty-sixth floor. I walked off the elevator first and paused in the long, dark hallway.
“Why don’t you go on in; we’ll be there in a moment,” I said, turning to Jessica. Jessica looked at us with sudden interest. After a moment, she reluctantly slouched away and I made sure she was out of earshot before I turned to Charlotte.
“Charlotte, I had no idea there were going to be cameras. I am surprised you made today a TV show,” I blurted out.
“It was only a last-minute idea. And it’s not like the wedding is actually going to be a TV show, Annie. Just a segment on The Morning Show. Our ratings were slipping a little and Scarlett thought this might get us some viewer interest. It’s harmless really,” she added. “She thought it would make a great story about the trials and tribulations of getting ready for a wedding. And according to the surveys, our female audience relates to me.”
I wanted to say that most women weren’t going to relate to someone who bought a dress that cost as much as a small car. But I took a breath and pointed out, “You have always said you planned on preserving your privacy if you made it big. I never thought you would take your once-in-a-lifetime chance to shop for a wedding dress and let America in.”
“Oh, come on, Annie. It’s no big deal.”
“What comes next, TV cameras at the wedding?”
Her eyes widened and she backed up until her shoulders hit the wall.
“Oh, Charlotte! Tell me you aren’t going to make your wedding the story featured in the eight o’clock segment!”
“No. I wouldn’t do that.”
I had said too much. I could see tears forming in her eyes and a tremble in her lips. Charlotte looked like I had run her over with a tractor instead of a few words.
“You don’t understand. It has been really hard . . .”
I hadn’t seen her tears in years. Not since Dad died. I took a deep breath. Suddenly I felt ashamed of myself. It was obvious this wedding was stressing her out. And here I was, adding to it. I put my hand on her arm. “Listen, honey, I didn’t mean to upset you . . . I am so sorry. I was just worried.”
“Why are you worried? I’m marrying the man of my dreams. Don’t you like Henry?”
“Henry’s great!” I didn’t need to lie about that.
She started to say something, then stopped and took a deep breath. “You know . . . it’s just hard to plan a wedding.”
I placed my hands on her shoulders and looked into her soggy eyes. We never argued and I didn’t want to start now. I pulled her close and hugged her.
“I’m not having the wedding on TV,” she mumbled against my shoulder.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep all that well last night and I wasn’t expecting to be videotaped this afternoon.”
“You don’t like the dress, do you?”
I looked over her head at the wall behind her, trying to keep my voice calm. “I love your dress . . .”
“No you don’t,” she said, pulling out of my arms so she could see my face.
I put my hand under her chin. “Listen to me, honey, I am telling you the truth. That is one of the most beautiful dresses I have ever seen.”
Her lips formed a tentative smile. “Really?”
“Yes.” I didn’t add that it swallowed her up like a marshmallow. If she loved it, well then, that was all that mattered.
With our arms around each other we walked to the door of Nick’s apartment. Jessica had left it cracked open and we could hear the baseball game on TV. Stepping inside, we moved slowly down a long foyer with bleached wood floors and bare gray walls that made me feel like we were in an empty exhibit at the New York Museum of Modern Art. I followed Charlotte as she turned the corner into a huge open space and for a moment I just stared.
Henry, Jessica, and several men sat on a white leather sectional that took up the middle of the room. I didn’t see Nick.
Henry spotted us and jumped up. He walked over to hug both of us.
“I hope you had a great time shopping for a dress. Of course, you would look great in a potato sack,” he said, putting his arm around Charlotte. He rubbed his hand along the back of her neck and I saw her relax.
“Hello! I’m Richard,” said a shorter, dark-skinned man who rose from the couch to greet me. He wore a smile that lit up his face, and he tried to block a taller blond man who introduced himself as Kevin.
“Ignore these two clowns, Annie. They may be my groomsmen, but they aren’t good enough for you and they don’t know a thing about baseball,” Henry said.
I laughed and found myself relaxing around Richard and Kevin. They reminded me of Ian’s friends back home, never serious and highly competitive about their sports. After a moment, Henry murmured something to Charlotte
and the two of them wandered off toward the windows.
Richard handed me a beer and we all moved to the couch for an exciting third-inning rally. As they were engrossed in the game, I had a chance to get a better look around. Steel-framed windows made up the outside wall. The other three walls were white and blank and rose up at least fifteen feet to the ceiling. Other than the sectional, the only piece of furniture in the space was a glass table in front of the couch. In fact, the only sign of human habitation in the entire room was the gargantuan flat-screen TV mounted on the wall and several beer bottles on the glass table.
Jessica brooded from the corner of the couch. I tried to talk to her while Kevin and Richard yelled at the umpire for a bad call.
“How is school going?” I asked her.
“Fine.”
“What are your favorite subjects?”
“I don’t have any.”
I asked her a few more questions, but she looked at me like I had two heads. I remembered my own mother’s personal mantra during the teenage years: Don’t take it personally. I’d repeated it often to myself when I’d taught high school, and this was a perfect occasion to use it again.
I restlessly grabbed my camera out of my purse and wandered over to the window. I was an avid baseball fan. But I had to admit, if it wasn’t a Detroit game, I usually lost interest. The sun was setting lower over the Atlanta skyline and I wanted to get a shot of the orange and violet ribbons peeking out between the buildings.
“What do you think?”
I turned to see Nick standing behind me. My heart did its usual cartwheel and I wanted to slap it down.
He stood with his hands in the pockets of a worn-looking pair of jeans. An untucked blue-striped button-down hung lazily over his pants. That, plus the fact that he must have forgone a shave in the morning, made him pure GQ material.
He stared at me like he was waiting for something and I realized that I had forgotten his question.
“Do you like it, Bump?” he repeated.
I blinked, on the verge of making an inappropriate comment about his appearance. Then I realized he meant the room.
A Wedding in Truhart Page 4
