New Year's Wedding

by Muriel Jensen

  “Well, we’d both look pretty silly if you were sending me, wouldn’t we?”

  Mercifully, she drove off.

  * * *

  ROSIE STOOD BEFORE the three-way mirror and giggled over the endlessly repeated images of herself. She wore a dark blue, silky, A-line dress patterned in snowflakes. It was simple and feminine, and the line flattered her.

  She put both hands to her mouth as Corie, Sarah, Helen and Cassie stood behind her. “I look pretty,” she said in wonder.

  “You look beautiful,” Cassie said. She took one of Rosie’s thick braids in her hand and turned to Corie. “Can she wear her hair down for the wedding? We can make her a coronet of flowers.”

  Rosie’s eyes grew enormous. “Like a crown?”

  “Like a crown. What do you think, Corie?”

  Corie wrapped her arms around Rosie from behind. Helen snapped a picture of their reflection. She’d been taking photos all morning. “I promised Teresa we’d send her pictures since she can’t be here,” she’d explained.

  “I think you’re going to outshine the bride,” Corie said to the child in the mirror.

  “What does that mean?” Rosie asked.

  “It means you’re going to be prettier than I am.”

  Rosie made a face. “I don’t think so.”

  Sarah stood behind them in a straight sheath the precise blue of the restaurant napkin they were trying to match. With her fair features and light brown hair she had a soft look that belied the smart, organized, senior-living administrator inside.

  Helen had found a knit skirt and top a shade darker than the Caribbean blue with a wide sprinkle of rhinestones around the neckline. She looked magnificent, even though still in her white tennis shoes.

  Cassie’s dress had a close-fitting velvet top with long sleeves in a shade of blue somewhere between Sarah’s and Helen’s, and a flared organza skirt that skimmed her knees. Before she’d begun modeling, she’d always chosen full skirts because they made her look shorter. Now that she appreciated what height could do for a woman’s body, she wore whatever she liked. Still, she loved this dress and prayed that the shoes she’d ordered, along with the tennis shoes she could be comfortable in, arrived in time.

  “Come on.” Helen encouraged everyone to close in for another photo through the mirror. “Let’s show Teresa and maybe the guys how gorgeous we are.” They all closed in, Corie put her hands on Rosie’s shoulders and they tightened ranks around her, Helen leaving a hand free to take the photo.

  Then they turned away from the mirror and crowded in for a selfie. Their laughter vibrated the small room.

  “Cassie?”

  “Oh, it’s Diane!” Helen said, parting the curtains and reaching out to pull Grady’s mother inside.

  Everyone greeted her warmly and she smiled in return, looking a little embarrassed. “I...I have nothing to wear,” she said. “To a wedding, I mean.” She laughed nervously. “And I have this awkward body.”

  “There’s a dress or a suit to make every woman look beautiful. Let’s go find something,” Cassie said. Aware of Diane’s discomfort, she suggested everyone else make their purchases and take a coffee break while she helped Diane shop. “We’ll meet you there.”

  Cassie’s family disappeared to a doughnut shop across the street and she led Diane out to the dresses. “What are you most comfortable in?” Cassie asked.

  Diane indicated what she wore. “Pants and sweaters. I so seldom have to dress up.” She put a hand to her midsection. “I need something that’ll hide bulges. And if it’ll make me look like a size ten, so much the better.”

  “We’ll see what we can do. What’s your favorite color?”

  “I like pink or purple.” She winced. “In an 18W.”

  “Don’t wince,” Cassie scolded her gently. “Curves are in. You were married a long time. Your husband must have loved them.”

  Cassie saw immediately that was not something Diane wanted to talk about, so she began to look through the dresses. Nothing seemed quite right, and the only pink one was sleeveless. She moved to another rack.

  “Do you ever wear a suit?”

  “I wore one to Grady’s graduation from the police academy. But that was forty pounds ago.”

  Cassie found a dark rose suit with a straight skirt and a top with a V-neckline and a peplum. She pulled the hanger out of the lineup and held it for Diane to inspect. “Do you like this? V-necks are always slenderizing and flattering to your face, and a peplum takes pounds off.”

  “It’s very pretty,” Diane said, “but shouldn’t it be longer to cover my hips? Won’t that little ruffle thing just accent them?”

  “That’s a mistake a lot of women make. It’s really more flattering to go shorter with the jacket.” She drew Diane back toward the dressing room. “You try it on, and I bet you’ll agree.”

  Cassie looked through a rack of necklaces while the rustle of clothing came from the dressing room. There was a long few moments of silence, then Diane’s voice said in a sort of stunned quiet, “Cassie?”

  “Yes?”

  “Come in.”

  Cassie parted the curtains and was pleased to see that she’d been so right. Diane looked incredible. The rose was wonderful for her and gave her beautiful skin heightened color while accentuating her startled brown eyes.

  Everything was perfect. The V-neck and the peplum did just what she’d promised they would. Diane looked one, maybe two, sizes smaller, and the suit lent her a distinction that fit her well.

  Diane put both hands to her mouth just as Rosie had done. Cassie half expected her to say “I look pretty.” When she didn’t, Cassie did it for her. “You look gorgeous, Mrs. Nelson.” She went up behind her to tug on a sleeve to smooth it. “This is a perfect color for you. We’re all going to have our hair done the morning of. Why don’t I add you to the appointment?”

  “Okay,” Diane replied, still distracted by her refection. “Grady won’t believe it’s me.”

  “Well, this is what you’re capable of. You don’t have to look like this all the time, but isn’t it nice to know you can?”

  Diane’s eyes caught Cassie’s in the mirror. “I don’t feel like myself.”

  Unsure if that was good or bad, Cassie suggested, “Well, we can keep looking and find something that’ll make you more comfortable.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Diane stepped closer to the mirror then turned to look at the back of the suit. “I mean, I’ve never looked this good. When I was married, my life was all about teaching, and I loved it, but it didn’t require that I look...special. Then my husband became ill, so I spent most of my time at home.” She expelled a breath and stood back, still studying her image. “It’s a little unsettling to discover there’s someone inside you that you didn’t know was there.”

  Startled to hear the same thought she’d had about herself last night, Cassie nodded. “I know the feeling. So, what do you think?” Belatedly she looked at the price tag. It was a little “spendy” but not outrageous.

  “I think I may wear it every day. I’ll take it.”

  Purchases made, Cassie insisted Diane join her and her family for coffee.

  They stood together on the corner, waiting for the red light to change to green and talking about finding the right shoes to go with Diane’s suit. Cassie noticed a young man across the street in a long, dark blue raincoat. He stood near the bakery, watching her. Had he had a camera in his hand, she’d have thought the paparazzi had found her, albeit an unusually elegantly dressed paparazzo. Maybe he just recognized her as a model. Or maybe he knew Diane.

  “Do you know that guy in front of the bakery?” Cassie asked Diane as the light changed and they began to cross the street. “He’s staring at us.”

  Diane smiled at Cassie, a new ease about her. “I think he’s st
aring at you, Cassidy.” As they reached the other side of the street, the guy turned and walked away.

  Cassidy paused before following Diane into the bakery, watching the man as he continued to walk, now a whole block away. She didn’t care so much if the press knew where she was, except that she didn’t want to subject her family to their ruthless intrusions. And she didn’t want anything to upset Corie and Ben’s wedding.

  * * *

  “WORKING OUT OF an office sounds better and better,” Grady said as he and Ben watched the ambulance take away an intoxicated woman who’d driven into a thicket of blackberries. She’d been sick and they’d had to wrestle her out of her vehicle. They were both smelling ripe. “And when we’re our own bosses, we won’t show up for meetings and end up covering someone else’s shift.”

  “Yeah, we might. But we’re almost off shift now,” Ben said. “I think we’ve both got wedding overload. A nice shot of Glenfiddich sounds really good right now.”

  They drove back to the station. Grady toweled off and pulled on sweat bottoms and an old gray hoody that felt wonderful after the freezing Pacific Ocean. He would shower at home.

  “Did you have a chance to look at that office space online?” he asked Ben, who was lacing up a pair of brown boots he’d owned forever. “Imagine being right down the hall from the Beggar’s Bay Bistro.”

  “I did.” Ben stood, straightened his jeans and pulled on a thick blue sweater. “It looks good to me. I’d like to actually see it in person, but there won’t be time before the wedding. I’ll just trust you on it. If you think it’s the spot, we’ll do it.”

  “I do,” Grady said with confidence. It had everything they needed, and it was affordable. “It’s a great location, I’ll pay first and last, and we can work out the split later. You just focus on the wedding. I can’t believe you couldn’t get off the rest of this week. I mean, I understand why I couldn’t; it’s not my wedding. But you?”

  “Captain’s shorthanded for the holidays. Corie and the family are doing everything, anyway. All I do is stand around and agree with whatever she wants.”

  Grady nodded. “Probably a good idea.”

  “How’s it going with a woman in your house? And such a gorgeous one, at that?”

  “Fine. She’s easy enough to live with. And, you know, after Celeste, I feel sort of off balance. I’m stepping back for a while. How’re you doing with the kids?”

  “I think we’re doing all right. Probably have to brace myself for trying times when they get a little older. Corie’s good with them, though. Has lots of experience with kids from helping out at the foster home for so long. It’s just life, you know. Can’t protect yourself from everything. Nothing’s ever as organized or predictable as we’d like it to be.”

  Grady knew that for a fact. After choosing a life path grounded in reality, he’d followed a supermodel who’d asked him for help and was now happily ensconced in his house, turning it into some sort of bridal dreamscape.

  “True.” Grady stuffed his still soaking uniform into a plastic bag to carry to the dry cleaner’s. He had several uniform shirts at home and, fortunately, a second set of slacks. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Right.”

  He stopped at the edge of the lockers and turned back to Ben. “You probably can guarantee predictability if you just don’t get involved with women.”

  Ben pulled a backpack out of his locker then pushed the door closed with a clang. “I guess, but who wants to pay that price?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  “THERE’S A BOX by Grady’s door,” Sarah said, the index finger of her right hand on the steering wheel pointing to the coffin-size box on the mat. “Is that the fabric?”

  “Must be.” Cassie, her seat belt already unbuckled, turned to send a smile to Helen, Corie and Rosie in the back seat. “Thanks for such a fun shopping trip, guys. I won’t bother you for the next few days ’cause I know you’ll all be busy, but call me if there’s anything I can do.” She smiled at Sarah. “Thanks for the chauffeur service, Sarah.”

  “Anytime. I have a meeting most of the day tomorrow, but call and leave a message, or call Jack if you need me.”

  Cassie leaped out and started up the walk as Sarah turned around in the driveway. She opened the door, then stepped inside and turned around to drag the box in after her. Though the box was huge, the contents were lighter than the size suggested. Tulle was like gossamer.

  Still enjoying the internal glow of having had a morning with her family, and hopefully having made a friend of Grady’s mother, she dropped her purse and jacket on the sofa, along with a white sack containing a cherry fritter she’d bought for Grady at the bakery. She hurried into the kitchen for a box knife she’d seen in a pencil cup on the counter, then hurried back to the great room and carefully opened the box. The scent of Josie Bergerac’s studio permeated the yards of tulle Louise had carefully packed for her. It took her right back to a Paris garden.

  Cassie caught the edge of the fabric and stood, letting it unravel off the bolt. It was relatively unwrinkled, unlike the many yards of ribbon wrapped around a card. It would have to be ironed. While carefully winding the fabric back onto the bolt, she wondered if Grady owned an ironing board and an iron.

  She remembered catching a glimpse of a mop and a broom in a utility closet off the kitchen. It was likely that if he had an ironing board, it would be there. She went to investigate.

  The closet was small and dark, so she reached a hand in to find the light switch. She flipped it and nothing happened. With the light from the kitchen behind her, she spotted a flashlight on a shelf inside the room and took a step in, reaching for it.

  Without warning, the door closed behind her. She yanked on it but it wouldn’t give. Struggling to keep her breathing even, she groped for the flashlight but couldn’t seem to put her hand on it. Panic tried to take hold.

  Then a very logical thought occurred to her. Someone had closed the door. Someone was out there. “Grady!” she shouted with all the air in her lungs. Forcing herself to breathe in and out, and in and out again, she shouted a second time. “Grady!”

  The door opened suddenly and Grady stood there, clearly surprised to find her in the closet. And to make the incident that much more awkward, he wore nothing but a towel wrapped strategically around his hips. She couldn’t help that her eyes went to it to make sure it was in place. The sight of a powerful chest, wide shoulders and long, strong legs made her more breathless than the closed door had.

  “What are you doing?” he demanded, obviously as confused as she was. “You’re supposed to be shopping with your family and my mother.”

  “Grady!” she said, her pulse dribbling back to normal but her breath still a little hard to draw in. “Why did you lock the closet?”

  “I didn’t. It sticks.”

  “I’m back because we all found something to wear.” Her eyes dipped again. “Except for you, apparently. What are you doing?”

  He caught her wrist and drew her out of the closet and into the hallway. “Ben and I ended up on the road, covering someone else’s shift. A drunk woman got sick all over us.” He seemed annoyed that he had to explain. “I took a shower. What are you looking for?”

  She became annoyed that Grady was annoyed with her. She folded her arms and said dryly, “Your silver, stocks and bonds, art objects, jewelry...”

  “Stop it,” he said in a gentle tone out of sync with the words. “What’s the matter with you?”

  She wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the sweet morning she’d had with her family, a connection she’d dreamed of having her entire life. With strong feelings on the surface, her sudden plunge into the darkness of the tiny room had upset everything inside her. She hadn’t screamed, though. She was proud of that. But then, here he was, half naked and quite spectacular. Tangled emotions seemed to have made her cranky.
>
  * * *

  DESPITE THE FACT that Cassie was almost as tall as Grady, she was so slender that whatever emotional upheaval was going on inside her made her seem fragile and on the brink of a scene like the one they’d played out in the elevator.

  Then he realized what had happened and he drew a deep breath, trying to rid himself of a suddenly dark mood brought on, he guessed, by guilt. “I came out of my room and thought I’d left the utility closet door open when I threw my muddy boots in there. So I just closed it, not realizing you were in there. I’m sorry.”

  She waved away his apology. “It’s okay.” Her voice was still a little high. “But you need a new bulb in there.”

  “I know. I’ve been meaning to change it. Again, I’m sorry.”

  “Again, it’s okay.” She expelled air between her lips, sweeping her hands toward the ground as though trying to push down on her fear level. She gave him a small smile. “I was looking for an ironing board and an iron. Do you have such things?”

  He smiled more broadly. “Of course I do. Unkempt policemen are frowned upon. But it’s in the closet in the kitchen, and the iron is on the shelf in there. What are you going to iron?”

  “My fabric and ribbon arrived. The tulle’s fine, but the ribbon is wrinkled.”

  She shifted her weight uncomfortably, her eyes darting everywhere but below his shoulders. It surprised and maybe even flattered him a little that she was traumatized by the towel.

  “I thought,” he said, unable to resist teasing her, “that you were used to being half naked when you’re being fitted for clothes.”

  “I am used to being half naked.” She studied his collarbone. “I’m just not used to seeing men half naked.”

  “Really? But Sarah and Corie were saying when we learned you were coming to Texas that the press was full of stories about how you’ve dated a long line of jocks, celebrities and corporate geniuses.”

  “Contrary to what you might think,” she said with an angle to her chin, her eyes meeting his, “for me, dating doesn’t necessarily mean ‘seeing each other naked.’ And while you have great shoulders, nice knees and kind of big feet, I’m not especially anxious to see anything more, so would you put some clothes on, please, while I get the ironing board?”