by Clare Revell
“What about a honeymoon?”
She shook her head, opening the file again. “No. We can have a holiday anytime.”
“OK.” Jared nodded, masking his disappointment. He wanted to do this right for her and her mixed signals were confusing him to put it mildly. She didn’t remember the first one, she’d made that abundantly clear, and here he was offering to repeat it for her and she didn’t want it. Was she doing this for his benefit or was this part of the change in her? She was much softer and more money conscious than ever before. The weekly shopping bills showed him that much.
And she hadn’t so much as bought a single pair of shoes since the car crash. In fact she hadn’t bought any clothes in weeks. Not even to replace the horrendously expensive suit that they had to cut her out of in the ED. Actually, now he came to think about it, he had only seen her in one suit since she returned to work.
“I’ll give Pastor Jack a ring. See if I can arrange a date. Any day in particular?”
“A Saturday. That way no one has to take the day off work. Unless it’s you. Fit it in with your off duty. Actually…” She smiled and reached behind her, pulling the calendar off the wall. She handed it to him. “I marked your shifts on here in green, since your green watch.”
“I like it.” He ran his finger down the dates. “You know I could just take the day off. Or fit it in with night duty.” A cushion flew across the room, hitting him in the face. He pushed it aside. “What was that for?”
“So you marry me at three and then go to work at six. Great, nice one. Thank you.” She concentrated on her notes, scribbling rapidly on them.
“OK, maybe not.”
“The first day off of your set of four would be ideal.”
“Let me see when the church is available, and we’ll go from there.” He picked up the phone and dialed. He smiled as Pastor Jack answered on the second ring and immediately put the call on speaker. “Hey, Pastor, it’s Jared.”
“Hello. How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you. I was wondering if you had a free Saturday at some point in the next few weeks. I know it’s busy in the run up to Christmas, so if you haven’t its fine. Niamh and I want to get married.”
“I thought you already were married.”
“Renewal of vows, then. Thing is she doesn’t remember the wedding and neither of us want to live together as man and wife without that.”
Pastor Jack chuckled. “Fair enough.” Paper rustled as he flipped through his diary. “Well as you don’t need to post the banns, you don’t need to wait. I can do this weekend, although that probably isn’t enough notice for everyone.”
Niamh grinned and waved at the phone. “Not really. Hey, Pastor.”
“He can’t see you wave,” Jared laughed.
“Hi, Niamh. Jared’s right. I can’t see you wave, but I’m waving back anyway. How are you doing?”
“Getting there. I’ll need a couple of weeks at least, in order to find something to wear.”
“OK. How about three weeks? That would make it December the sixth?”
Niamh nodded and shot Jared a thumbs up.
“Sounds perfect, and it fits in nicely with my off duty.” Jared blew her a kiss. He grinned as she mimed catching it, before sending a kiss back. “How does midday sound?”
“I’ve written you in.”
“Thanks, Pastor. See you on Sunday. I’ll give you all the details and so on then.” Jared hung up and grinned at Niamh. “So now we just need to find you a dress.”
“Should be simple enough. I mean, how hard can buying a dress be?”
“Pfft.” Jared crossed the room in three strides and plumped down next to her. “You’ve not been clothes shopping since the car crash. You are the most finickity person ever.”
“Finickity isn’t a word. It’s pernickety or persnickety. Or finicky. Depending whether you’re using English or American English.”
He kissed her nose. “Whatever the pronunciation, or language, you are the most overly fussy woman imaginable to go shopping with. There’s a reason I never used to go with you.”
She set the papers aside and snuggled into him. “Overly fussy, am I now? We’ll see about that. I shall go tomorrow afternoon and come home with a dress.”
“Are you going to show me?” He rubbed his arm as she playfully thumped him. “That’s a no then.”
“You’ll see it on the day and not a minute before hand.”
“Fair enough. But just so you know, if you can’t find a dress you like, I’ll marry you barefoot, in a shift dress and pregnant.”
“Pregnant? That will go down well in a church.”
“OK, maybe not pregnant. But barefoot and in a shift dress.”
“OK.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Did you really never go shopping with me?”
“Nope.” He kissed her forehead.
“Am I that bad?”
“You used to be.” He paused half wondering if now really was the time to push it.
She twisted her head and gazed at him. “What is it?”
“At one point, you had a suit for every day of the week and a pair of shoes to go with every single outfit. Yet, now you wear one suit to work and barely change your shoes.”
Her finger traced the pattern on his shirt, sending ripples of heat that settled low in his belly. “I gave most of them to charity. I mean, who needs ten suits and twenty-seven pairs of shoes. Most of which would could cripple a person the heels are so high. One suit is fine. As are two pairs of shoes, a pair of sneakers and a pair of sandals for the summer. As for the rest of my clothes…honestly some of them just aren’t me. I can’t believe they ever were. So I packed them all up too.”
“I didn’t like half of them, but wasn’t going to say. I prefer your new simpler tastes.” His hand rested on the long, flowing skirt she wore. “Like this one.”
She laid her hand on top of his. “Three pounds fifty in the secondhand shop in the precinct.”
Jared jerked his head up in amazement. “You’re kidding?”
“No. Perfectly serious. Why?”
He lowered his face to hers and kissed her. “Because you told me on several occasions you wouldn’t be seen dead in a charity shop.”
Her lips caught his. “Then I was a fool.” Her arms went around him and all conscious thought left him.
****
Bad morning in court just didn’t cut it. Having been wound up beyond anyone’s limits by the defense, and ignoring her two escorts, Niamh left the court in a foul mood and headed to the High Street for some retail therapy. She parked the car and headed to the only bridal shop in town, convinced she’d find a dress in less than an hour. But shopping for her dream gown, soon turned into a nightmare.
She had very specific ideas as to what she wanted, but despite having tried on almost every dress in the shop in her size, nothing came even close to resembling the picture in her mind. For some reason her usual size didn’t fit. This didn’t help her bad mood, only serving to sink her further into the mire.
Every single dress the assistant brought out either reminded her of a meringue, or was too plain, too straight or made her look fat. Especially the ones with ruffles across her mid-section. That wasn’t attractive even on a good day. Good job Jared hadn’t come with her.
“How about this one? It’s the last one we have in your size.” the assistant asked, bringing out a long ivory dress.
Not bothering to say it wasn’t her size, Niamh shook her head. “It’s massive,” she whispered. Disappointment resonated through her and she blinked hard. “Thank you, but I think I’ll leave it.”
Leaving the shop and plodded along the pavement. Rain drizzled through her hair, streaking her mascara and hiding the tears.
Is Jarrie right? Am I just too fussy? And why doesn’t anything fit anymore? I know what size I am, even if things are a little tight now. Did I use to work out in the gym?
She rubbed a hand over her face and went straight into the café. Orderin
g hot chocolate with cream, marshmallows, a flake and sprinkles, she eyed the cakes up before adding an apple Danish pastry and a chocolate slice to her order.
Sitting by the window, she ate slowly, watching the rain hit the window. The sweet treat turned her stomach, but then most foods did that right now. She sipped the chocolate. What do I do? If I can’t find a dress, what do I wear? Did he mean it about marrying me barefoot and in a shift dress?
After the café, she crossed the road and went into the clothes shop. Not even bothering to look at dresses, she found leggings in various sizes and tried them on. To her horror, she realized the girl in the bridal shop was right about her size.
A wave of nausea flooded her and she sat down. She pulled a tissue from her sleeve and wiped her face. It was hot in here. She took a couple of deep, shuddering breaths. Maybe she just gave this up as a bad job and went home.
On the way to the checkout, she saw a pair of white shoes she liked, but without a dress, they were useless. She hesitated for a moment then left them. By the time she got home, she was tired, distraught, and more than a little nauseous.
Jared came into the hall as the front door closed. He reached her side in four quick steps and immediately wrapped his arms around her. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
Niamh collapsed into his arms, sobbing. Her knees gave way, tiredness sweeping over her and everything too much.
“Baby?” Concern flooded his voice. He gathered her into his arms and carried her into the lounge. He sat down and cradled her on his lap, rubbing her back until she calmed down.
As the nausea subsided and the sobs eased, she raised her tear soaked face to him. “I can’t find it,” she managed.
“Find what, hon?”
“A wedding dress. I know what I want but I can’t find it.” Tears started to fall again.
“Oh, hon.” He pulled her snug against his chest, his warm lips pressing kisses on her forehead. “It’s okay. The wedding’s three weeks away yet, you’ve got time. You can always get married in what you’re wearing now.”
“Noooo,” she sobbed. “This isn’t a renewal of vows or a civil service. It’s the only wedding I’m likely to get and I want…need it to be perfect.”
“Then barefoot and in a shift,” he whispered. “So long as you meet me at the top of the aisle I’ll be a happy man.”
****
Saturday morning Niamh sat in bed, drawing pictures of her ideal dress then scribbling over them. Jared had left for work at half past eight as usual. She’d stayed in bed as long as she could, hoping the nausea would pass. She was obviously working too hard, so a lazy day was called for.
When the doorbell rang, she was tempted to just ignore it. After the fourth ring, she got up and pulled on her robe, before heading down to answer the door. She opened it. “Yes?”
Jacqui smiled at her. “Come on you.”
“Hmmm?”
“We’re going shopping.”
“What for?”
“I need a dress for your wedding. Unless you wanted the bridesmaid to wear jeans.”
“If you want. Don’t care, wear whatever you want.”
“Niamh? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. You better come in while I throw on some clothes.” She rubbed a hand over her eyes. “And then we can go and find you some new jeans.”
Jacqui stood in the hall, her critical gaze making Niamh squirm. “You look awful.”
“Don’t feel that great. And I’m having the most crazy nightmares about being chased.”
“Too much stress at work, maybe? Liam told me about your police escort.”
Niamh heaved a sigh. “Wherever I go, they go. It’s all getting too much. Part of me wishes this guy would make his move and kill me already.”
“Niamh!” Jacqui managed to sound outraged, shocked, and sad all in the one word. “That’s an awful thing to say.”
“At least this mess would be over. The police have all the evidence, even Patrick is convinced he knows who it is, yet no one’s arrested him. And I have to face him, day after day in court…”
She broke off, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. “Forget I said that.”
“Said what? Come on, you need some fresh air.”
“OK. I’ll get dressed. Then we go find you something to wear to the wedding.”
“What about you?”
She thought a moment. “Something black maybe.”
“Oh don’t be silly.”
“I’m not!” Niamh snapped. “That way I can wear it more than once.”
“Oh, for crying out loud. Will you listen to yourself? This is your wedding day. It doesn’t have to be long and white if you don’t want that. I don’t even have to wear a dress.”
Niamh rubbed her hands slowly through her hair. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I feel sick, and I’m on edge the whole time. I’m sure it’s just stress. If Jarrie knew, he’d insist I go back to the doctors. I don’t want that.”
“Then we don’t tell him.” Jacqui hugged her. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s go buy jeans for me and a short black thing for you.”
“Or I borrow your jeans. That way it’s old, borrowed and blue in one foul swoop.”
Jacqui smiled. “Or we just throw caution to the wind and buy the first thing we see. Ohhhh. How about we go for matching jeans? You know the ones with precut holes and ladders in.”
“That sounds good. Jared would be horrified.” She paused. “OK, let’s go and look, see if we can find some.”
17
Niamh followed Jacqui around the shops, trying to summon up enthusiasm. She had looked in all these places yesterday and found nothing. Nothing that fitted and nothing she liked. Not even jeans. And if she were being truthful, she felt too sick to do anything. Maybe she was coming down with stomach flu.
They did however find a red dress for Jacqui. With long sleeves and made of silk, it curved around her body perfectly. Best of all it came from a high street store and wasn’t your typical bridesmaid’s dress. It was something that could be worn again and again. Jacqui looked radiant in it. “Now to find something for you.”
Niamh looked at her. “What I have on is fine,” she whispered.
“Rubbish,” Jacqui said, winking at her. “You can’t have the bridesmaid outshining the bride.”
“Sure we can. It’s my wedding.” She took a deep breath. “I just wanted it to be perfect. But it’s not going to happen.”
“Oh, ye of little faith.” Jacqui pulled a couple more dresses off the rail. “This is pretty.”
“Yeah it is.” She ran her fingers along the material. “It’s gorgeous.”
“What size?”
“Normally a twelve. Today I seem to be a fourteen.”
“They have every size but that.”
Niamh sighed. “That figures.”
“How about I just put it back on the rack and we go look someplace else? I think there is one store we haven’t tried yet. They might have something similar.”
“It’s not worth it. Let’s just buy your dress and call it a day.”
“OK.”
Niamh nodded. She led Jacqui to the cashier’s desk and paid for the dress. “Liam will like you in that dress. Not that he doesn’t like you anyway. He told me how you guys met.”
Jacqui laughed. “Yes, the ‘say it with flowers incident.’ Not exactly getting it off on the right foot. And then I ended up in floods of tears the first time he took me to dinner. Kyle came over and threatened to deck him for it.”
Niamh raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Fortunately, Liam had gone to the bathroom at that point. He was drinking again then and it may well have turned into a fight.”
“He doesn’t drink now though.” Niamh tried to think.
“No. He’s back on the wagon and going to the AA fairly regularly. He’s staying dry for himself, rather than someone else now. That makes all the difference.”
“Yeah, it does.” Niamh opened the d
oor, her mind going back to the dress issue. “Jarrie’s no help with this wedding outfit, though.”
Jacqui laughed as they left the store. “He’s a bloke. They have no idea when it comes to dresses.”
“He told me barefoot and in a shift would do fine.” Niamh walked slowly down the high street trying not to cry. “Least one of us will look a million dollars.”
Jacqui looked at her and then down. “Yeah.”
“Let’s just go home,” Niamh whispered. “I’m sorry, I really don’t feel well.”
“You look awfully pale again.”
Niamh swallowed hard. “Probably stomach flu or something I ate. A lie down and I’ll be fine. At home I won’t be followed everywhere by those two. I know there’s a reason, but I’m tired of it.”
****
Jared came in from work to find Niamh curled up on the couch. “Hey, hon.”
She glanced up. “Don’t ask.”
He nodded. “OK.” He flopped down on the couch beside her, wrapping his arms around her. “Does that mean you still haven’t found anything to wear?”
“I said, don’t ask. The bridal shops are hopeless, and the one ball gown I did like they didn’t have in my size. Not that it was white. It was pale peach, but it was so pretty and even Jacqui like it, and it wouldn’t have clashed with her dress. But I’m too fat and ugly right now to wear anything pretty.”
He held up a hand. “OK, I won’t ask or mention it again, tonight. I just want to marry you. I don’t care what you wear. And you’re not fat or ugly, hon. Just tired, stressed and overwrought.”
She hugged him back and looked down at her jeans and sweater. “Is what I have on all right, then?”
“What you have on is perfect, hon,” he said kissing her.
She kissed him back. “OK. Jeans it is.”
He smiled. “You know, we can always postpone the wedding. Till some of the work pressure and so on is over.”
“No. I want to marry you in two weeks. They might never arrest him.”
“They will.” He kissed her again. “I’ll go put dinner on.”
