Simply Mad (Girls of Wonder Lane Book 1)

by Christina Coryell

  I practically have to drag her into the church, where her dad is waiting for her, but she thinks her dad hates her again, so that sends her into another bout of tears. Being Kent Cooper, he starts berating her in front of the entire crowd for acting like a baby. He probably doesn’t mean to be so loud, but as I well know, he only has one volume level.

  I finally manage to console her enough that she’s ready to walk down the aisle, and I meet up with my escort, who of course is about four feet tall.

  “You stink,” he says, wrinkling up his nose.

  “Thanks a lot.”

  Oh, dear God, what am I going to do?

  “Go ahead, you two,” Cooper insists, dragging me to the present conversation, “and have your fun. Maddie, I’ll have the bank set up a wedding account and give you all the information later on today. Whatever Audrey wants, make it happen. Within reason, naturally. I don’t want puppies running around everywhere or clowns at the reception. You know what a proper wedding should include.”

  “Okay,” I mumble as I stand up to leave the room, sinking a little in the plush carpet. Audrey is clapping her hands in that fast, quiet way again, walking behind me. I wish I could step through the door to my office and slam it behind me—maybe lock her in there with Cooper. Where would I go, though? It’s not like I could run away or hide.

  “Oh, Maddie,” she whispers breathlessly, “I am so excited. We finally set the date over the weekend, and the first thing I thought was that I had to have you plan everything. You’re so good at setting things up, and with the way you dress and do your makeup I just know everything is going to be perfect.”

  “We’ll figure something out,” I manage to say.

  “Who would have thought when Dad made me come to work here that I would find a best friend like you?”

  Enough with the best friend business! I am not your best friend, got it? Never have been, never will be.

  Audrey plops down in the chair beside my desk and begins tapping her feet on the carpet in a rhythmic pattern, and then begins moving them from side to side slightly, as though she’s practicing a dance routine. She blows a bubble with her pink chewing gum, pops it loudly, and then smiles at me.

  “So, what do you think?” she wonders. “Are you excited?”

  “Yeah, it’s great,” I reply, rearranging some papers on my desk. When Audrey is nearby, it’s like a tornado is in the room. I wouldn’t want to lose anything important.

  “We should start right away, don’t you think?”

  “Sure. Why don’t you go think about exactly what you want, and then make a list?” That seems harmless enough, and it will get her out of my hair for a little while.

  “Don’t be silly,” she giggles. “I need you to help me—that’s why I wanted you to do this. I have no idea how to go about planning a wedding.”

  “You don’t know what colors you want, what type of dress you want, what flavor cake you want? Nothing?”

  “If I knew all that, I wouldn’t need your help, would I?” She begins humming a little tune, tapping her fingers on the armrests, and I watch her silently for a moment.

  She is quite possibly as wacky as her dad—an entire family of nut jobs. From my humble little marketing job, somehow I wound up being the Cooper family servant. Tomorrow Mrs. Cooper will probably call, wanting me to walk her dog or something. Maybe she’ll ask me to come by and clean the house, or to drive her to the mall.

  Audrey’s still humming and tap, tap, tapping. Her giddiness is driving me a little crazy.

  “Okay, this is what I want you to do: You’re going to go to your office and start thinking about things you like. What’s your favorite color? What’s your favorite kind of music? Your favorite food? I want you to start writing those things down so we’ll have a place to begin. I can’t help you plan anything until I know what you like.”

  “Favorite things, got it.” She stands up and opens the door.

  “And don’t come back here until you have a list of at least ten things, alright?”

  “That seems like a lot of—”

  “No less than ten things.”

  She lets out a deep sigh and her shoulders sink a little. “Okay, ten.”

  Standing up to shut the door, I watch her back as she crosses the hallway and enters her own office. Dina is peering over her glasses as she raises her eyebrows inquisitively, wondering what’s going on.

  “Don’t ask,” I mumble, shaking my head.

  It was bound to happen, and the day has finally come: Audrey is accompanying me on my trip to Big Cedar. She brought her list of ten favorite things to me about an hour ago (yes, it actually took her more than one day). I insisted that I would spend some time with her when I got back, but she was adamant that she had wasted too much time on the list and she really needed to talk to me during the tennis lesson. When I informed her that she would have to practice tennis right along with me, I was absolutely certain that would dissuade her, but she came back a little while later with her gym bag and told me she was ready to go.

  That’s how we wound up where we are now—with me maneuvering through afternoon traffic and Audrey sitting in the passenger seat, going on and on about how she wants her wedding to be the event of the century. Personally, I think there’s no chance of pulling that off, but I’m simply nodding and letting her have her moment. As we pull into the driveway for the club, I glance at the time. We still have fifteen minutes left, and I really don’t want to have to introduce her to everyone inside, so maybe it’s best if we wait in the Tahoe.

  Drawing up to the front of the building, I park the vehicle and stop the engine. Audrey reaches for her bag as I drop the keys into my purse.

  “Wait—there’s no need to go in yet. It’s too early,” I explain.

  She leans back in her seat and drops her shoulders a bit. “I’m going to look so stupid playing tennis. You’ve been taking lessons all this time, and I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “Well, you won’t look any sillier than I did the first time I came here. Besides, it’s not like people stand around watching you. It’s just you and the trainer.”

  Audrey begins rifling through her bag and pulls out a package of bubble gum. I didn’t realize that she had nothing in her mouth, but I should have noticed. The girl constantly has something she’s chewing on.

  “While we’re sitting here, I’ll look at your list,” I offer.

  She gladly pulls the pink sheet out of her bag and hands it to me, and it’s hard not to notice that she has drawn little hearts at the top and bottom of the paper.

  1. Favorite color: Pink, of course. Naturally.

  2. Favorite music: Rap. What is your dad going to think about that?

  3. Favorite food: Cheesy puffs. Obviously someone missed the point of the list.

  4. Favorite drink: Diet cola. The beverage of choice for every upscale wedding.

  5. Favorite cake: Chocolate. Finally, something I can use.

  6. Favorite dress: The ones with the big, puffy bottoms.A possibility, I suppose.

  7. Favorite shoes: Flip flops. I can already hear her flipping down the aisle.

  8. Favorite book: Harry Potter. Irrelevant and completely off topic. Are you nuts?

  9. Favorite movie: Harry Potter. Yes, clearly nuts.

  10. Favorite dog: Cocker Spaniel. Favorite dog? Seriously, favorite dog? I guess I shouldn’t expect less, though, when dogs are her obsession.

  “Okay,” I sigh, wrinkling my nose a touch. “At least it’s a start.”

  “You don’t like it,” she says with a pout. “I can tell by the way you look right now.”

  When I imagined Cooper’s spoiled daughter, I pictured a young woman with too many cars and a different outfit every day—no repeats. I never pictured a whining three-year-old who pouts when she doesn’t get her own way. I wonder what Max is going to think of Audrey.

  “It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just not very…wedding related, I guess.”

  “What do yo
u mean?” she asks, folding her arms across her chest.

  “Harry Potter and cocker spaniels? What am I supposed to do with that?”

  “You said you wanted a list of my favorite things. Those are my favorite things. I had a hard time coming up with the last few, but you said I had to have ten before you would talk to me about it.”

  “And these are the ten you came up with?”

  “What do you think took me so long? I was trying to think of topics. You try to think up topics on the spot like that. It’s not easy.”

  Sighing, I rest my head against the back of the seat. “So, based on your list, the guests at your wedding are going to show up to a boy wizard greeting them with a cocker spaniel as his sidekick. You will walk down the aisle in a puffy dress with flip flops while carrying pink flowers to a fine selection of rap music. At the reception, your guests will dine on chocolate cake, cheesy puffs, and diet cola.”

  Audrey just stares silently at me for a moment, her eyes looking slightly confused. Maybe she doesn’t understand the point I’m making. I should have simply started planning this whole thing by myself, without even involving her in the fiasco.

  Suddenly, she begins giggling. “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds ridiculous, although it would still be better than some weddings I’ve been to.”

  Okay, I give up.

  “Let’s go in,” I order, grabbing my bag and opening the door to the Tahoe. She follows suit as I shut the door and use my remote to lock the vehicle. As I walk with her right at my heels, I realize that my occasional shadow is now going to be pretty constant. How long can I possibly stand to spend every waking moment with Audrey Cooper?

  “Why don’t you go ahead into the locker room and change, and I’ll be there in a moment,” I suggest, pointing her in the right direction. She looks a little leery of leaving me, but I simply have to warn Max. This isn’t the kind of thing you spring on an unsuspecting person, after all.

  Walking through the corridor, I glimpse one of the other trainers filling out some paperwork.

  “Hi,” I call. “Is Max around?”

  “Equipment room,” he states, not bothering to look up.

  “You looking for me?” I hear Max’s voice behind me. “What gives? You’re not dressed yet.”

  “I know,” I say quietly, turning toward him. He has his hair in a ponytail, so he really does look a little like that dashing pirate, and I nearly forget why I was looking for him in the first place. Other than obvious heart-fluttering reasons. Oh, Audrey. “I came out here to warn you.”

  “About what?” he asks, giving an appealing grin. He doesn’t appear overly concerned.

  “I’ve got a guest with me—Audrey Cooper. Kent’s daughter.”

  “Aha,” he says, a disappointed look crossing his face.

  “I’m sorry, she insisted on coming with me. Since Cooper is paying for the lesson, why don’t you go ahead and give her some pointers today, and I’ll just practice for a while?”

  “If you’re sure that’s what you want,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders.

  “Trust me, you’re going to want to keep this girl occupied. Besides, maybe you can wear her out so she’ll have to go home early.”

  “I knew there was an ulterior motive,” he whispers, looking behind me as though we’re being sneaky. “Shall I try to break a leg while we’re at it?”

  That would be scary if I didn’t know he was joking.

  “No, not today,” I protest with a laugh. “Maybe next time.”

  “I can’t pretend that I’m not a little disappointed,” he adds, placing his hand on my arm. My skin shivers a bit, and I freeze in place as I look at his face.

  “Why is that?” I manage to squeeze out of my throat.

  “I enjoy my time with you, Maddie.” He pulls himself close to me, so he can speak directly in my ear, and I can no longer see his face. “If I can’t get my Maddie fix today, I’m going to have to get it sometime. Friday night?”

  My head nods up and down right before he plants a soft, breathy kiss on my cheek. With a parting smile, he turns and walks back to the equipment room, leaving me feeling breathless and confused behind him.

  Max has finally asked me out—which is precisely what I wanted.

  It is, isn’t it?

  Stepping towards the locker room to change clothes, I witness Audrey standing in the middle of the large space, gym bag still over her shoulder.

  “What are you doing?” I wonder.

  She looks at me quickly as though I startled her. “I can’t get changed in here,” she whines. “It’s all out in the open. What if somebody sees me?”

  “Um, just use the restroom?” She looks behind her at the open doors and I can practically see the light bulb going on over her head.

  “Oh, okay.”

  Sure, because it never occurred to her that she could just go in there and shut the door. How does she get dressed in the morning without someone picking out her clothes? Never mind—someone probably does pick out her clothes. I forgot for a second who her dad was.

  On second thought, if someone does pick them out, they should be fired, because they do a terrible job every single day.

  I’m finished changing when Audrey finally emerges from the restroom wearing loose shorts and a T-shirt. As she begins walking toward me, I hear a distinct sound that I was absolutely not expecting.

  Flip flops? She can’t be serious. She brought flip flops for a tennis lesson.

  “Don’t you have any tennis shoes in your bag?”

  She looks at me as though I’ve just asked her for a million dollars. “I don’t really like them.”

  Of course, she doesn’t really like them.

  “Come on,” I tell her with a sigh, “let’s go to the pro shop.”

  “What for?”

  “You can’t play tennis in flip flops, Audrey, no matter how much you like them. I am not going to be the one to explain to your dad that you broke your leg trying to play tennis in flip flops.”

  “What’s the big deal, anyway? We’re just hitting a ball back and forth.”

  Yeah, naïve girl. You are in for a rude awakening. Max is going to eat you alive.

  Max—my Max.

  Yeah, totally what I wanted.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Audrey wants to go dress shopping today. Normally you breathe the word “shopping” and I’m there, but spending a whole day trying to please Audrey is the last thing I want to do right now. She has been breathing down my neck ever since Cooper agreed to grant her wishes, and I haven’t had a moment’s peace. Last night she got my cellphone number somehow, and she called me at 7:00 p.m. to ask if I could help her choose some stationery. I asked her why she needed stationery now, since we haven’t ordered the wedding invitations yet. Turns out she just needed it to write some letters and it had absolutely nothing to do with the wedding. After that, caller ID became my best friend.

  Yesterday she brought me an armload of bridal magazines that she bought at a bookstore the night before. She had bent back the corners of several pages with dresses that she liked so I could inspect them. Obligingly I began flipping through one of the magazines, and the first folded page contained a very slender woman in a form-fitting dress made of what appeared to be some type of crocheted material. The very bottom of the dress flared out into a bell shape.

  “That one would be hard to walk in, let alone dance,” I told her, avoiding the obvious objection that it absolutely would not work with her figure. She seemed to accept the explanation, so I began flipping to the next bent page. This one was of a knee-length dress with a pencil skirt on the front and a long train in the back. The first thought that came to mind was ‘80’s rocker chick, which does not exactly mesh with the wedding theme I have planted in my mind.

  “This one probably wouldn’t match the décor,” I explain. “Besides, I thought you wanted a puffy dress.” She nodded and seemed okay with my disapproval, so I kept thumbing through the pages. Nearly e
very picture she marked was of a form-fitting dress, nothing like the “favorite dress” she described to me earlier.

  “Which one do you like the most?” I finally asked, hoping that she had just picked some of the dresses as filler. She immediately grabbed up one of the magazines and began flipping until she found the correct page.

  “Here—this one.”

  I looked down to see a picture of a tall, thin blonde in what appeared to be some type of silk or satin. It was very simple, with a modest neckline and one solid piece of fabric from head to toe. It wasn’t as clingy as some of the dresses she had shown me, although it was still a little too form-fitting.

  “What is it you like about it?” I asked, slightly confused. I never really pegged Audrey as someone who would go with clean, simple lines. Big and gaudy and completely over the top seemed more her style.

  “I like the back the most,” she stated. The back of the dress was on the following page, so I flipped it over. When I saw that dress—good gracious, I almost choked. There was no back! There were a couple scraps of fabric around the arms to hold the dress up, and the rest was…well, nonexistent. The front of the dress wrapped around to a V-shape exactly where it needed to in the back, barely covering the model’s behind, and then followed to a short train.

  “What do you like about it?” I attempted to clarify, immediately dreading the impending answer.

  “The butterflies,” was her simple reply. It was only after she mentioned it that I realized there were embroidered butterflies that floated across the V and all the way to the floor.

  “Yeah, those are pretty,” I agreed.

  She sat down in the chair next to my desk and folded her arms across her chest, tears springing to her eyes. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. None of those dresses cures ugly.”

  “I’m sure we’ll find a lovely dress, Audrey,” I assured her, attempting to be soothing. The girl has more meltdowns than an ice cream parlor on a hot summer day.

  “I’m not worried about the dress,” she cried, a tear sliding down her cheek. “It’s me—I’m ugly.”