by M. L. Young
The Stipulation
Vol. 7
The Final Volume
M.L. Young
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http://realmlyoung.blogspot.com/
Editor: Laura LaTulipe
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblances of characters to actual persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. The author, M.L. Young, holds exclusive rights to this work.
Copyright © 2013 by M.L. Young
All rights reserved
The Stipulation Volume Seven – The Final Volume
Chapter One
Getting married is often an exciting yet stressful moment, with the brunt of what you felt only describable to the people who have gone through it. Being engaged to Roman was incredibly exciting and exhilarating, but the thought of having this wedding…the wedding we had been planning for so long…scared the living daylights out of me.
It had been months since Roman proposed that memorable night in Paris, and when the excitement and thrill wore off, we realized that we had a mountain of a task to pull off in the form of throwing a wedding. It was now December, and the wedding was set to happen in two days. We originally wanted a spring wedding, but my parents had such a crazy schedule with their missions trips that this was the only time we could get them here, and having them here was more than important to me. I’d rather have the wedding a little earlier than planned than to have it during the scorching summer.
Roman’s money and prestige allowed things to happen much quicker than they usually would, and he had hired two wedding planners, Tyrone and Rachel, who were coordinating everything, leaving us to only make the final decisions. They knew what we liked and disliked, and they were a godsend, considering I was still in school. I was finishing off school instead of dropping out, which I could do, because I wanted it for myself. Roman told me he’d support me either way, and after a long period of thought and soul searching, I decided that finishing my degree, even though I’d likely never use it, was best for me.
“Your parents are being dropped off at the hotel in an hour. I arranged for a car for them, and their room, which I have checked on, is ready. When do you want to leave?” Roman asked.
Roman and I decided to keep our wedding in the Chicago area, where we met, because of the sentimental value and meaning it had to us. We could’ve gone to some private island somewhere in the Caribbean, but something about our normal town spoke to us in a way that these other places couldn’t.
“We’ll leave soon. Are our rooms ready, too, or are we staying here?” I asked.
“Our rooms are, although tonight and tomorrow we aren’t staying together. I booked us separate rooms, and you’re staying in a suite with your friends,” Roman said.
“Why aren’t we staying together?” I asked in confusion.
“You know that the bride and groom can’t have contact right before the wedding. We need to be separated so that our wedding night is that much more special. Besides, I don’t even want to see you in your wedding dress before the moment when you’re walking down that aisle,” Roman said with a smile as he came up and wrapped his arms around my waist.
“I know, I know. I guess I’ll just miss you is all. We spend so much time together, especially with the wedding coming up, that I’ve just gotten used to being around you,” I replied as I wrapped my arms behind his neck.
“Pretty soon you’ll be moving in with me and we will be together all of the time, even if you get sick of me,” he replied with a smile.
“I don’t think I ever have or ever will get sick of that face,” I said as I pushed his cheeks together and kissed his big red lips.
***
Roman and I, with our bags in tow, got to the hotel, which wasn’t really in our town but on the outskirts of the next one, a ritzier town, and checked in. The hotel was very opulent, and was the one that some big golf tournament goes to every year. It’s one of those big televised events, but I don’t know the name of it. They also held some huge professional poker tournament, so you could say that this hotel does have some nice clientele and finishes.
Roman checked us in as I stood there and looked around at all of the gold trim and frescos on the wall. I felt as if I was standing in an old Italian museum, and that if I touched anything it would mean potentially breaking some priceless piece of pre-Renaissance art that is worth millions.
After about ten minutes, Roman came over with the key cards, which were gold with white lettering,
“You’re in room 1472, and I’m in room 1401,” he said as he gave me a copy of the receipt, as if I even needed it.
“We’re that far away from each other? Are you sure you don’t want to sneak down to my room some night?” I asked as I slowly ran my fingers up his shirt.
“Be good. Your parents could be right around the corner you know,” he said as he pushed my hand away and tried to act innocent.
We picked up our bags and walked to the elevators, which could’ve fit fifteen people easily, and went up to my room instead of his. Roman had spared no expense on this suite, and I knew it would easily fit a few friends and me very comfortably. Jillian was my maid of honor, and both she and Tara were going to be staying in my room with me for the two nights before the actual ceremony. Roman and I had the honeymoon suite booked for our wedding night, and after that, he was taking me to some exotic location in which he wouldn’t actually tell me about. He said it was a surprise, but to pack for sand and surf, meaning we were going somewhere with a beach.
***
After twenty minutes in the room, there was a knock at the door, and I could hear the people outside arguing with each other about some mundane thing. The two people were my parents, and I opened the door to greet both them and Jillian and Tara, who must’ve found them in the hallways or something after checking in.
“There’s my baby girl!” my father said as he almost pushed my mother out of the way to come and hug me.
“You’re such a putz! Give me my daughter,” my mother said as she pushed him aside before hugging and kissing me.
“You guys are terrible,” I said as she let go and I gave Jillian and Tara hugs, who were bringing in their hordes of suitcases.
“You girls sure did bring a lot,” Roman said.
“We’re women, what do you expect?” Tara replied.
“So tell me, have you seen where the wedding is going to take place? Or the reception? Or the dress?” my mother asked frantically.
“No, Mom, I haven’t seen any of it. We’re going to the reception hall later, and my dress is set to be here within the hour so I can try it on to make sure it fits,” I said.
“You don’t know if the dress fits?” my father asked.
“It fits, but they just want to be absolutely positive,” I replied with my hand out, as if signaling that I’ve got this.
Jillian and Tara took their bags into their rooms, which were huge and caused them to gasp and giggle as if they were little schoolgirls. Everybody was happy, healthy, and excited for this most momentous of occasions. I think our wedding was going to go off without a hitch.
***
Two hours later, while I was sitting and gabbing in my room with Tara, Jillian, my mother, and my Aunt Carol, there was a knock at the door, which meant only one thing: my dress was here. I hadn’t seen my dress for three months when I got fitted for it, and I must say, as embarrassing as it was, I’d kind of forgotten what it even looked like.
I opened the door and saw three women standing there smiling as the bag, which held my dress, hung from the hotel luggage trolley.
“Hello, Mrs. Parker. We’re here for the fitting!” one woman, Deandre, said.
Mrs. Parker. The woman called me Mrs. Parker. That was the first time anybody had called me that, other than Roman when we played around with each other, and it made all of what was happening sink in. In just two short days I was going to become Mrs. Parker, and my life would finally be complete. I’d come so far from working in that awful store, to almost losing my scholarships and grants, and now to finally marrying a gorgeous billionaire who wanted to give me an amazing life.
“Hello, please come in,” I said as I shook their hands.
Everyone in the room was beyond excited as they shook the hands of the seamstresses, and sat back down to get ready to see the dress, which sat hidden and obscured behind a vinyl bag.
“Well, we can get started right away. The best way to do this is for one of us to help you in the dress in your room, and to bring you out in it for full effect,” Deandre said.
“Aw, we can’t see it first?” Jillian asked.
“Nope, you have to wait,” I said with a smile, as if teasing her.
“Well then hurry up!” my mother shouted out.
Deandre led me into my bedroom, shut the door behind us, and began to unzip the giant bag. As the sound of the zipper echoed throughout my empty and waiting mind, I stood there…patiently I might add, as the zipper hit the bottom of the bag, and my dress flowed outward, as if it were water letting out of a balloon. I stared at it, my eyes wide, as I had forgotten how beautiful and elegant it truly was. Maybe it was just the fact the wedding was almost here, or I was just flustered with emotions anyway, but it took my breath away, and made me believe I was going to be a princess on this day.
“What do you think? We worked very hard on the beading and small little touches to really tie it all together,” Deandre said.
“I think it’s gorgeous!” I said as I wiped away a rogue tear that had come out.
“Well then let’s get you into it so you can show your family and friends just how beautiful it really is. I’m sure they’re impatiently waiting,” she said with a smile as she took off the bag and tossed it on the bed.
I was helped into my dress, which fit like a glove. I had room to breathe and move, but the dress couldn’t fall down and it accentuated my curves and figure, giving me that sought-after hourglass physique.
Deandre walked over, opened the door, and I hiked up the front of my dress so I wouldn’t trip over it and look like an idiot the first time I showed off my dress. Roman hadn’t even seen it yet, and other than the seamstresses and myself, it was a complete mystery.
As I walked out, I saw the eyes of all of the women in the room, especially my mother’s, tear up and turn red as they smiled and gasped in shock. Normally I hate being the center of attention, but there was something about everybody being in shock and awe that made me actually like it for once.
“You look so beautiful,” my mother said.
“I can’t believe how well that dress fits you,” Tara said.
“Roman is one lucky guy,” Jillian chimed in.
I turned and looked at myself in the mirror as tears began to run down my face just like they had on the faces of all of my guests. I looked absolutely beautiful, and my breath was taken away just like theirs. I thought I looked like an absolute princess, and now that I was wearing the final dress, especially after alterations, the thought of the wedding and what it signified hit me like a brick wall. In just two days, I would be wearing this dress down a long and expansive aisle—all to get to the man I loved more than anything in this world.
I touched the dress, feeling every bead and crystal, before turning around and smiling at all of my waiting and eager guests.
“It looks like it’s almost time for the wedding of the century,” my mother said.
I smiled, nervously, as I was unsure if it were truly time to sign my heart away. Seeing myself like this, and the faces of everyone here, made me realize that I was scared, and that scared me to no end. Was I really ready to commit myself for all of eternity? I loved Roman with all of my heart, but I was beginning to get cold feet, and I was praying they could be warmed up before the wedding.
Chapter Two
The next night was the wedding rehearsal, followed by the rehearsal dinner. The day began with bridesmaid dress fittings, caterer appointments, talking with the wedding planners, and finalizing last minute details. Everything was going to plan so far, and I didn’t have to break out into a bridezilla, terrorizing all of the poor hired help that were coming together to make this wedding a blissful reality. I was actually calm and collected, and I think it was because of our wedding planners. They had been working around the clock, barely sleeping, and they were making sure that our wedding would be the best it could possibly be.
“Are you ready to go to your dinner?” Jillian asked as she slipped on her shoes.
I stood there, looking out of the living room window, at all of the people walking outside. There was a popular restaurant in the hotel, and since it was Friday night, it was filling up fast, but I didn’t mind since our rehearsal wasn’t in there. We were in a banquet hall, which the hotel called the ballroom, and the dinner would just be the wedding party and a few select guests, like my parents.
“Natalie,” Jillian said.
“Oh, what? Sorry, I was spacing out a little,” I replied as I turned around.
“I asked if you’re ready. We have to be down there in five minutes,” she said.
“Yeah, let me just get my shoes on,” I said as I sat down to put them on.
“Is everything okay? You seem really out of it,” she replied.
“Yeah, I’m fine, just thinking a lot,” I said.
“Cold feet?” Jillian asked.
“What makes you think that? I want to marry Roman, you know that,” I replied, covering my tracks.
“I know you do, but it’s normal to feel a little nervous or apprehensive. After all, you’re going to devote your life to this man, and that can be a scary prospect, even if you’re madly in love,” she said.
Truthfully, I was a little nervous to marry him, and I wasn’t sure it was the best choice. Maybe it was just the time frame of everything and how quickly it happened, but I began to wonder if I was making a mistake. I knew I loved him, and that he loved me, but there was still a small part of me that questioned this entire ceremony.
I slipped on my black ballet flats, and Jillian and I walked out of the room to greet everybody else, who was supposed to already be down there. We had the ceremony rehearsal earlier in the day at a nice church nearby, and that went off without a hitch, although I think actually standing there at the altar, even though it was just a mock ceremony, made me a little more timid and scared about this entire proposition.
As we arrived a few minutes later, we walked into the banquet hall, where the tables were all set up and decorations were in full swing. I marveled at them all, as I looked around in full shock and awe at the job that had been done. The tables were covered in crisp white linens, with some of them already topped with the purple and white floral arrangements for the centerpieces. Floating candles were inside, and they had lit the ones at our head table, to give us a view of what they would actually look like when finished. I spun around, looking at the wall decorations, which were lace and silk, before turning back around with my mouth open and seeing Roman standing there with Tara and my parents.
“There she is!” my mother said happily.
“This is all so beautiful,” I said as we walked toward my parents, still looking at each table along the way.
“I was told they are still working on everything, and the lights will be dimmed on the walls for a dramatic effect, so it won’t look like this when fully finished,” Roman said.
“So, what do we do now?” I asked as I put my hands on my hips and looked around for a sign of what to do.
“Oh good, you’re here!” Tyrone said as he and Rachel came over in a hurry.
He gave me air kisses, his signature greeting, and stood there with his silver clipboard aga
inst his chest as Rachel looked over hers.
“We’re going to sample a few dishes for the rehearsal dinner, just small portions, and you’re going to sign off on them before they’re set to be made and served tomorrow night. We are going to go over your entrances, final decorations, and sign some papers from the resort that they gave us,” Rachel said.
“Yes, and remember that we still have to go over the centerpieces and if the flowers picked are the ones you envisioned,” Tyrone said.
“Well, let’s get started then,” I said bravely.
All of this work really hurt my head, but I didn’t want to say anything and seem needy or whiney. This was my wedding after all, and if I couldn’t make these final decisions, then who could? Tyrone and Rachel seemed stressed as it was, and the last thing they needed was some princess that was too much of a little baby to decide on flower choices.
***
“Here is your first dish to try—Chicken Marseilles,” Tyrone said as the waiters brought us all a small portion to sample.
The chicken looked nice and tender, as it was also served with steamed asparagus and carrots, as well as a rustic looking roll that had little spots of flour on it. I began to cut my chicken, which cut like butter, and put a piece of it in my mouth as it almost melted like cotton candy. I closed my eyes, the sauce coating my starving taste buds, and swallowed, as I almost felt comforted in the simple yet powerful taste of the dish. It was amazing, and I wanted to change my choice from the steak to this, for I didn’t think the steak could compare to the magnificence of this dish.
“What do you think?” Roman asked as he wiped his mouth.
“I like this…a lot,” I said as I pointed to it with my fork.
“So is that a passing grade?” Tyron asked.
“Yes, in fact, I want this tomorrow night for my dinner. It’s that amazing,” I said.
