by Syndi Powell
She pointed. He found the bathroom as well as a washcloth from a stack on a floating shelf. He turned on the faucet and wet the washcloth, then returned to April and placed it on her forehead. “This will give you some relief.”
She groaned. “I doubt it. Is it going to make me forget how I embarrassed myself back there?”
“Probably not for a while.” He took his cell phone from his coat pocket. “Now, what is Page’s phone number? I’ll ask her to come over.”
“No.” She took her phone from her pants pocket. “She won’t answer if she doesn’t recognize the phone number. Call her on mine.”
He scrolled through her contact list, spotted Page’s name, then pressed the call icon next to her name. Page picked up on the first ring. “So how was your date? Better than Mateo?”
“Page, this is Zach Harrison. I’m here at April’s house since she’s not feeling well. She needs a friend to stay with her.”
“Oh.” She paused. “I’ll be right there. You won’t go until I get there?”
He agreed and, after ending the call, left the phone on the coffee table next to the sofa. He took a seat in the rocking chair. “You sure know how to show a guy a good time.”
April covered her eyes with the washcloth. “I’m really not like this.”
“If you were, we’d still be at the shop tasting wines.”
“Please don’t say that word.” She puffed her cheeks out and exhaled. “You’re really good at taking care of people. That’s something I didn’t expect.”
“I’ve had a lot of practice with my mom. She hasn’t been well for many years.”
April removed the washcloth to look at him. “What does she have?”
He shook his head. He didn’t share details about his mother outside the family unless it was with one of the caregivers he hired. Part of it was to protect his mother. More of it was because he didn’t know how to explain what it meant to watch her regress into a childlike state. He didn’t like to talk of the pain or anger he felt about her. Instead, he swallowed those feelings down and kept up appearances. “She’s just not well.”
“I’m a doctor. I could help.”
He doubted it. He’d sought out the advice of many over the years, but none could stop the progression of the disease that robbed his mother of her memories. “I’m taking care of her. We’ll be fine.”
April peered at him, but dropped the topic. “I want to make it up to you for throwing up on your shoes.”
He stared at them and sighed. Definitely ruined. He brought his gaze back up to hers. “It’s fine. They were never my favorites.”
She bit her lip. “But I feel guilty about it. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to pay you back for them?”
A thought niggled at the back of his brain. “Actually, there might be a way that you can. I need a date for a wedding.”
April’s eyes widened, and she put the washcloth back on her forehead. “As you saw tonight, I’m not exactly great date material.”
“How can you say that? Before you got sick, I was having a good time getting to know you.” He sat on the edge of the rocker. “I’m throwing a wedding for a potential client Sunday evening. It would mean a lot to me if you would agree to accompany me.”
“When I said pay you back, I figured I’d give you money.”
“This is more fun.” He rubbed his hands together, pretty happy with himself for thinking of this. “Please, April. I don’t know anyone else to take at this late date.”
“You did put it off till the end.”
Mostly because the only woman he wanted to take with him was the one lying on the sofa in front of him. “It’s one night, only a few hours.”
She finally nodded. “Fine. What time will you be picking me up?”
He smiled and rose from the rocking chair at the knock on the front door. He opened it to find Page standing on the porch. She pushed past him and rushed to the sofa. “Are you okay? What happened?”
April moaned. “Too much wine.”
Page turned and glared at Zach. “You thought you could take advantage of her by getting her drunk?”
April reached out and touched Page’s arm. “It’s not his fault. I should have spit at the wine tasting, but I couldn’t. I drank too much as a result.”
Page slung off her jacket and dropped it on the floor. “You always were a lightweight.” She glanced at Zach. “Is there a reason you need to stay?”
“No, ma’am.” The cavalry was here, so he walked over to April and placed a hand on her forehead. “I hope you feel better. I’ll call you tomorrow with details about Sunday.” He turned to Page. “Thank you for taking care of her.”
She gave him a nod and accompanied him to the door. He tried not to take it personally when she slammed the door shut and locked it behind him.
* * *
HER TONGUE FELT as if it had swollen to twice its size and left her mouth feeling full of cotton balls. “Page, can you get me a glass of water?”
Page returned moments later with a glass of water from the tap. April sat up and took the glass with both hands. After several tentative sips, she then looked at Page, who was looking closely at her. “What?”
“How did you end up going on a date with Dr. Ross and return home with Zach Harrison? Did I miss something?”
“Dr. Ross stood me up. Zach was there on his own, so we started talking. Then I got sick.” She winced. “All over his shoes.”
Page smirked at this and took a seat on the other end of the sofa. “I would have paid money to see that.”
“Believe me, it wasn’t pretty.” She took more sips of water.
“And what is on Sunday?”
“I’m his date for a wedding.” At Page’s raised eyebrows, she gave a shrug. “It’s the least I could do to make up for what happened. And besides, I’ll get to check off another item on my list.”
“Going to a wedding is on your list?”
“No, but finding the perfect little black dress is.” She grabbed her journal from the coffee table and opened it. Smiling, she ran a finger over the words. “Number seven, the perfect LBD.”
“And you think you’re going to find it by Sunday?” Page scoffed. “Let’s wait and see how you feel tomorrow morning. You might not be up to shopping.”
“Who wouldn’t be in the mood for shopping?”
* * *
APRIL’S HEAD POUNDED in rhythm to her heartbeat as she sat up in bed the next morning. She placed a hand against her forehead and groaned. Page appeared in the doorway and handed her a cup of hot coffee. “I thought I heard Sleeping Beauty waking up.”
Despite the drink’s temperature, April had a slug of the strong black liquid. “What time is it?”
“Almost noon.”
April shrieked and got out of bed. Big mistake. Her stomach rebelled, so she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. “That wine sure packs a punch.”
Page pushed her toward the bathroom. “You’ll feel better once you take a shower and get dressed. Then we can talk about going to the mall for your dress.”
April groaned but allowed herself to be guided away. She finished the coffee, handed the empty mug to Page before shutting the door and starting the water in the shower.
Twenty minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom, clean and dressed in a white T-shirt and skinny jeans. She’d forgone blow-drying her hair since the sound of the machine made her eyeballs ache and her teeth set on edge. Instead, she grabbed one of the ball caps from her closet. When she’d lost her hair, she’d worn a lot of these and she’d amassed quite a collection. She chose a Detroit Red Wings hat and pulled the bill low on her head.
In the living room she found Page glued to a cooking show on the television. She gave April the once-over and nodded. “I guess you’ll do.”
“It’s just the m
all.”
Page rose to her feet. “You look like a truck ran over you, then backed up and hit you again.”
“That’s exactly how I feel.” April noticed the mussed-up pillow and quilt on the sofa. “Did you spend the night?”
“I didn’t want to leave you in your condition. I went home earlier for a shower and change of clothes, but came right back.” Page looked at her from head to toe and grimaced. “We don’t have to do this today.”
“I need the dress for tomorrow night, so yes, I do have to.” April pulled on her coat and zipped it up. “But I can do this on my own if you’d rather go home.”
“Are you kidding me? I don’t remember ever seeing you in a dress. This may be my only chance.” She clicked off the television and put her coat on and followed April outside. She held up her car keys. “I’m driving.”
Thank goodness. Her eyes and head hurt too much to be able to concentrate on anything but the basic functions of walking and talking. She got in on the passenger side of Page’s car and turned off the radio as the ignition started. “No offense, but I can’t do music right now.”
Page snickered and backed out of the driveway. April closed her eyes as her friend drove them out to the suburbs to a mall that had every kind of clothing store imaginable. If she couldn’t find the perfect little black dress there, then it didn’t exist.
They didn’t find it, however, until the eighth store. April emerged from the dressing room and positioned herself in front of the three-way mirror. Page whistled. “Now, that’s a dress.”
And it was. The sheath was sleeveless and had lace on the top that cut straight across her clavicles, making her feel covered but still sexy. She took a few turns in front of the mirror. “Will this work?”
“It’s better than anything else you’ve tried on.” Page approached her and looked at the price tag. “It should be perfect at this price.”
“And that doesn’t even include the shoes.” April turned a few more times, looking at herself from all angles. “I deserve this, don’t I?”
“After everything you went through to survive? Absolutely.” Page plopped down in one of the chairs next to the changing room. “Are you going to try on the other dress or is this it?”
“I think this is it.” She put a hand to her belly. “I’ve never owned anything so beautiful.”
She slipped back into her T-shirt and jeans, then paid for the dress, which the sales clerk put in a thick plastic garment bag. April signed the credit card slip and put the garment bag over her arm.
As they walked past the food court, April tugged on Page’s arm. “Can we get something to eat?” she asked. “I’m starving.”
Page trailed April as she checked out the different food venues. Her tummy still felt iffy, but a pretzel couldn’t hurt, right? She ordered two, along with bottles of water, and slapped Page’s hand as she reached for her wallet. “This is to pay you back for taking care of me and driving me around today.”
“I’m surprised you can afford this after getting that dress.” But Page put her wallet back in her purse and found them an empty table. She wiped it down with a wet wipe from her purse, then took a seat. “These places are so unsanitary.”
“That’s part of the fun.” April placed one hot pretzel in front of Page, then ripped off a section of hers and popped it in her mouth. She closed her eyes as she chewed the warm, salty dough. “This was always my favorite part of coming to the mall.”
“Why did you really agree to go with Zach to this wedding? And don’t say it was because you ruined his shoes.”
April opened her eyes and gave a shrug. “I don’t know. I mean, a big part of it is because I felt guilty about what I did. But another part of me wanted to get to know him more.”
“Why?”
She leaned back at Page’s incredulous tone. “Because I might have misjudged him. He was so sweet last night to take care of me. And he didn’t yell when I got sick on him. But even before that happened, he seemed...” She shrugged and picked at her pretzel. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong about him. Maybe my first impression was the right one.”
“Do you honestly believe that?”
She recalled meeting him in the emergency room with Antonio. He’d seemed scared for his client, so maybe his brusqueness could be attributed to that. “No. But I’d like to give him a chance to prove me wrong. Maybe that’s what this is about.”
They finished their snack and started to head toward the shoe stores. Page paused once and put her hand at the small of her back. April stopped and waited for her friend to catch up to her. “Are you okay?”
Page grimaced. “I must have slept funny.”
That answer didn’t ring true with April. “How long have you been having lower-back pains?”
Page shook her head. “Don’t.”
“I’m just asking a question. How long?”
Page glanced at the stores before answering April. “About two weeks. I already made an appointment with my doctor, so I don’t need a lecture, okay?”
“You know we’ve got to be on top of our health.”
“It could be nothing.”
April put a hand on Page’s shoulder. “And it might be something. You’ll let me know what the doctor says?”
Page pushed April’s hand away. “You know I will. But it’s probably nothing.”
* * *
ZACH HAD NO clue why she’d actually agreed to be his date for the wedding, but as he arrived at April’s house on Sunday night, he was glad she had despite feeling as if he were on a ship being tossed by the sea. He shut off his car, took a deep breath, got out and walked up the short path to the front door. He knocked and waited for her to open it.
“Wow.” She certainly looked a lot better than the last time he’d seen her. She wore a simple black dress, but with her hair pinned back by sparkly clips and makeup applied expertly, she was stunning.
She gave him a smile and stepped aside so that he could enter. She reached down and grabbed high-heel shoes that would add at least three inches to her tiny frame. She put them on, leaning on him for balance, and grabbed a dark silver wrap. He helped her put it around her shoulders, and the nearness of her made his head spin. She glanced over her shoulder at him, and he lost what he’d planned to say. Instead, he cleared his throat and pointed to the door. “Shall we go?”
She nodded and placed her hand on his elbow as they left the house.
On the drive to the banquet hall, he stole glimpses of her at the same time as he was trying to keep his eyes on the icy road. “You look fabulous.”
She ducked her head. “You do, too.”
He waited for her to say more, remembering that she tended to go on, but she stayed silent, her gaze on the buildings going by. At the next red light, he adjusted his tie, then reached over and touched her hand lying in her lap. She withdrew it quickly, and he regretted the gesture. Maybe he was making more out of this than he realized. Maybe she’d agreed to this only to make up for ruining his shoes, after all.
He put his hand back on the steering wheel. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. You startled me.”
He noticed the light had turned green, so he drove on. “I’ve never thrown a wedding before, so this will either be a triumph or a tragedy.”
“How? You were married before.”
“Marissa took care of all those details. All I had to do was show up on the day in my tuxedo.” He flipped on the right-turn signal to take them into the banquet hall parking lot. “In all fairness, my assistant helped with a lot of the organizing for tonight. I may get the credit, but he certainly deserves some, too.”
He parked and pressed the button to pop the trunk open before getting out of the car. “I have to take in some last-minute decorations and favors. Do you mind giving me a hand?”
April got out and joined him at the
back of the car. She touched one of the centerpieces. “Daisies?”
“The bride’s favorite.” He hefted two of the floral arrangements in his hands. “Do you know how hard it is to find fresh daisies around here in the middle of winter? But Dalvin is a genius.”
“Dalvin?”
“My assistant.”
She gave a nod and grabbed two more centerpieces. In the banquet hall, they placed the decorations on the first table. April glanced around the spacious room and whistled. “Your assistant did all this?”
Zach arranged the centerpieces on the different tables. “Actually, my nonna helped us put this together after church.” He propped his hands on his hips and gave a satisfied nod as he took in the fantastic job they’d done to transform a large, blank ballroom into an intimate setting. Dalvin had found a lattice archway under which Chris and his wife would get married. Zach had spent an hour weaving white Christmas lights in and around the archway to give it a soft glow. He had to admit that he liked the effect. “We did pretty good.”
April moved another centerpiece into the middle of a table. “I’d say so. I’d like to get married here.”
“So, you know I’ve been married before. You?” When she shook her head, he stopped and stared at her. “Why in the world haven’t you? Are all your boyfriends blind and kooky?”
She smiled and took a centerpiece from him. “I’ve been married to my career for the last eight years. It hasn’t come up.”
“Not even close?”
“Nope.” She set the floral arrangement in the perfect spot and turned to face him. “Were there more of those in the car?”
“A few.”
She accompanied him to his car, thrust several arrangements into his arms, grabbed the last three for herself and slammed shut the trunk door.
“I don’t get it,” he said.
