Wedhead: Bedhead: The Final Chapter

by Kayt Miller

“I’ll miss you guys.” I’m blubbering a little now. In less than a week, we’re moving to London.

  “We’ll miss you too,” Susanna says, stepping into our little circle. “But we’ll visit, and you’ll come back. You’re keeping your place here, right?”

  I nod and croak out, “Yes.”

  “Then stop worrying,” Robbi mutters from somewhere behind me. “This is a happy fucking day.”

  Robbi can be a little abrasive at times, but I love her. I laugh. “You’re right.” I wipe away a tear. “You’re absolutely right. Let’s pop open some of that champagne and get ready.”

  Cooke arranged for a team of stylists to do our hair and makeup today. I was fine with having one of the girls do something with my hair, but he wouldn’t hear of it. The same goes for my dress.

  Ugh. My dress. What a nightmare that was. I looked everywhere for a dress that would fit my post-baby body, but it wasn’t easy. I was shocked at the number of bridal places that didn’t carry plus-sized dresses. Some of the stores said I could order one, but I wouldn’t be able to try anything on. Who would buy a wedding dress without trying it on? Not me.

  I finally found one at a place in West Des Moines called Weddings by Design. They had a huge selection of larger dresses that I could actually try, plus they were super nice. I felt very comfortable with my consultant, and she was able to find me the perfect dress. The difficulty was figuring out what size I’d need post-baby, but with their help and a few alterations, we did it.

  My dress is fairly traditional. It’s strapless and tight on top, while the bottom is lacy and flows outward, doing a great job of disguising my stomach, thighs, and the rest. I feel pretty in it, and I know Cooke’s going to love it.

  “Let’s get this party started,” Robbi shouts.

  Poor Robbi. I feel for her. She’s got it bad for Bull, but he’s been in London for the past seven months. Cooke got him a tryout with England rugby. They were so impressed, they added him to the National League 1 team called Roslyn Park located in Roehampton, London. It’s sort of like a minor league team like they have for professional baseball, and he’s having the time of his life playing rugby full time and learning from some great players. Sadly, it means that he’s been away from Robbi all that time. I know he misses her too, but it’s not the same. He’s busy with the team stuff and she’s here. But it’s the way it has to be right now.

  I’ve talked Cooke into inviting Robbi to visit us for an extended period of time. That way, she can check out London while seeing if she and Bull can make it work. I plan to talk to her about it at the reception.

  I also have a surprise for her besides that. Robbi doesn’t know, but Bull’s going to be here today. Since Cooke asked him to stand up with him, the team is letting him come. I can’t wait to see her face the second she lays eyes on him.

  In the meantime, we need to get ready. “Do you all know what you want to do with your hair?” I ask.

  The room gets quiet for a moment. Then someone snickers. I think it was Patsy.

  “What?”

  “We were told how to wear our hair.”

  “Told?” I blink a few times. “Groomzilla?”

  Titters abound. “Exactly.”

  Shaking my head, I say, “Do what you want. I don’t care as long as you like it.”

  “No way,” Robbi mutters. “Cooke will kick our asses.”

  “What hairstyle did he choose?” This ought to be good.

  “A complicated braided updo with soft pink flowers.” Patsy smirks. “His words.” She holds up her phone. “He sent photos.”

  Saffie snorts. “My brother’s lost his bleedin’ marbles.”

  That cracks the group up even though she’s right. He has lost his “bleedin’ marbles.”

  “I’m fine with whatever you want, girls. I really am.”

  “We’re sticking to the plan,” Robbi cuts in.

  “Okay.” I search the room. “Now, where is that fake champagne.” I wish it was the real stuff, but I’ve got to nurse again before I put my dress on.

  “Red or white?” Susanna asks, holding up two bottles of nonalcoholic champagne.

  “White.”

  With a glass in hand, I sit in the middle chair with my bridesmaids split in half on either side of me. I’m about to tear up again thinking about this being our last time together when Robbi snaps, “No more crying.”

  “Fine.” I wipe my cheek. “I just love you guys.”

  “Oh.” Patsy reaches out and takes my hand. I watch as her eyes get shiny. “We love you too.” I wish Patsy would find a good guy. The last one she was with was sort of a drip. I know she brought a date to the wedding, a guy she really likes named Matt. I hope it works out the way she wants.

  “Promise me you’ll keep in touch,” I say after a sniffle.

  Susanna chirps, “Of course we will, silly goose.”

  I feel Kat’s arms wrap around me then from behind. “Our friendship. This group is special. We’ll always be important to each other.”

  That’s all it takes for a big sob to come out of my mouth.

  “Oh, Jesus,” Robbi mutters. “Here we go.”

  She’s right. The rest of the room is in tears. Even Saffie has a few rolling down her cheeks. I think she’ll miss everyone too. She’s spent a lot of time here in Ames and has bonded with my girls. Not only that, but she’s been playing a cat-and-mouse game with Dan. In case you were wondering, she’s the cat. Dan doesn’t seem to mind, though.

  When the stylists enter the room, each one stands next to one of my friends. When my stylist approaches me, she simply states, “I’m Stacy.”

  “Hi, Stacy.” I give her my best smile. “Okay.” I reach for my phone. “I think I want—”

  Stacy shakes her head. “I’ve got orders. Here.” She reaches into her apron pocket and pulls out her own phone. I watch as she opens her photos. When she finds the image she wants, she holds it up. “This.”

  I stare at an over-the-top updo. It’s big and tall and wide. “Uh, no.” I shake my head. “No way.”

  “What?” The woman looks and sounds shocked. Her mouth is agape as she sputters, “B-But Mr. Thompson said—”

  “I don’t care.” I shake my head again. “I refuse to look like Dolly Parton from the 1970s.”

  That gets a cackle out of Robbi. Finally, she laughs.

  “Okaaaaay.” Stacy looks to her right. One of the other stylists shrugs. “Then will you please tell him—”

  “I will. No need to be afraid. I’ll take full responsibility. He’s a teddy bear.”

  Saffie snorts again. “Fecking Groomzilla.”

  Snickering, I grasp my own phone and pull up the image of the style I had in mind. “I want it down with big curls.”

  Stacy mutters, “Fine.”

  I’m about to say, “It’s my wedding, and I can have what I want,” but I decide to keep quiet. There’s no need for a bridezilla when we’ve already got the other one.

  Tayler sips her real champagne and says, “Don’t worry. He’ll get one look at her and he’ll forget about the hair.”

  “True,” Kat says with a nod. “He’s going to freak.”

  “I hope so.”

  I lean back in my salon chair and let Stacy do her thing. The girls and I chat about random things for a while. That is until Kat brings up Gage. And Daisy––the woman who murdered Kara Becker. She’s also the woman Gage was seeing before he found out she was a killer.

  “I guess I should tell you guys, Daisy Buchanan escaped from the mental health facility.” The one the court mandated her to for an indeterminate amount of time.

  “When?” Tayler squeaks.

  “A week ago Monday.”

  “And?” Lindsay asks quickly. “Did they catch her?”

  Kat nods. “She went back to her dad’s house. The new homeowners called the police.”

  I knew he’d moved. He had to. “Where’s he living now?”

  “He’s actually living in Daisy’s old apartment si
nce he had to sell his house after Kara’s dad won his wrongful death suit against him.”

  “I forgot about that,” Lindsay says softly. “He lost everything.”

  “He’s also getting sued by his publisher,” Robbi says in her matter-of-fact tone. “The asshole.”

  “How did she escape?” I ask, getting us back to the story at hand.

  Kat sighs. “Apparently, she started up a relationship with a guy who delivers food to the facility. Since she helped out in the kitchen, they saw each other a lot. That’s how it started.”

  “So, she tricked him too.” Robbi wasn’t asking. “Like she tricked Gage.”

  “It seems to be the case. He believed she was being kept there wrongly, so he snuck her out in his delivery truck.”

  “Where is he now?” I ask.

  “In police custody. There was surveillance video that recorded the whole thing. He confessed that he took her to his place, then returned the truck to his job. When he got back to his house, she was gone along with one of his vehicles. The police arrived at his place shortly after that.”

  “How did they catch her?” Me again.

  “She tried to get in using the old alarm code.” Kat pauses. “Here’s the kicker. As soon as the police arrived, she asked for Gage.”

  “No. She. Didn’t.” I mean, how could she? She deceived him. Lied to him.

  Kat nods. “Yep.”

  “Then what happened?” Susannah asks from the edge of her seat.

  “He talked to her at the station.”

  “Alone?” Patsy squeaks.

  “No. There were others with him, but they let him talk to her. She told him she still loved him.” Kat sounds defeated.

  I feel like I need to say something. “But he loves you.”

  “I know.” Kat’s face doesn’t look like she means that.

  “So, where is she now?” Robbi asks.

  “Still in Ames. They’re trying to find a more secure place for her. A judge will have to get involved. The escape will add to her time.”

  The poor girl. I feel bad for her, I really do. Her father is a terrible human being. He let her swing in the wind, as they say. He knew she had psychological problems and essentially did nothing to protect her or the people who lived around her. I think he’s lucky more people didn’t sue him.

  Clapping her hands, Kat smiles. “Let’s talk about something happy. Like Harper. How is the beautiful Miss Thompson?”

  I beam with pride. “Good. She’s a happy baby.”

  Saffie snorts yet again. “She gets fussy like Cooke.”

  The girls laugh and I shrug. “She sure does.” Life’s not so easy when the two of them are grumpy, but I still love them.

  When our hair is finished, I take a moment to look at each of my friends. “You all look amazing.” And they do. Cooke was right about the style. It’ll be great with their dresses. I let each woman choose the style they liked as long as it was in the same pale pink. That way, they’ll all feel comfortable in a dress that suits their individual bodies.

  “Your hair looks ethereal,” Lindsay says, sounding wistful. Of all my girlfriends, she’s the one who’s the most romantic. She’s hoping to meet one of Cooke’s former rugby teammates today and fall madly in love with her own “British hottie”. Her words. I hope that for her too––as long as he’s good enough for her.

  “Thanks.” I guess. Ethereal, to me, means light and airy. Imagining myself as that makes me laugh. I’m definitely not light.

  “All right, ladies.” Patsy claps. “Time to get dressed.”

  Which means it’s time to feed Harper. Like it was choreographed, Caroline appears holding a fussy Harper. Reaching out, I take her in my arms and kiss her and sniff her head.

  “Not a wink,” she mumbles. “The little bugger didn’t sleep a wink.”

  Hearing Cooke’s mom say “bugger” causes the entire group to laugh because she’s ordinarily so prim and proper.

  Sounding wise, Kat says, “Maybe that means she’ll sleep during the ceremony.”

  I like what she’s saying, and I’ll do my best to remain optimistic. But she’s a two-month-old infant. She’s going to do whatever the hell she wants. We just need to expect it and accept it.

  I quickly unbutton my top and tug at my nursing bra. The second she gets close enough, she makes one final cry and then she’s eating.

  “Wow,” Lindsay says, staring at my little girl. “She was hungry.”

  Chapter Three

  “Ladies.” I hear someone clap. I look up and see Bridget, the poor wedding planner using her arm to wave us to the doorway to the ballroom. “It’s time.”

  We decided not to get married in a church. Not for religious reasons but because there wouldn’t have been enough room for Cooke’s guest list. So, we decided to get married in the large hotel ballroom and hold the reception in the same place. I’m going to take credit for that idea. Pure genius if I do say so myself.

  Feeling a bit of nerves wash through me, I take in several deep breaths. I look to the front of the line at Lindsay. She’s got hold of my ring bearer, Mary—our old landlord Vic’s beloved pit bull—on a leash. She doesn’t need the leash, but Vic thought it’d make everyone feel safer, especially Mary.

  “Smile everyone. Smile,” Bridget says with a squeak. I bet she can’t wait for this thing to be over. I need to tell Cooke to give her a big bonus. She deserves it.

  I look over at my father, who’s been very quiet the last few days. “You okay, Dad?”

  Giving me a fake smile, he pats my hand that’s resting on his arm. “Of course. Just a little sad.”

  “Sad?”

  “Losing my little girl today.” I can’t believe my eyes. There’s a tear threatening to drip from my big, strong, stoic father’s eye.

  “Daddy.” I turn and move in closer. “You’re not losing me. Plus you’ve got a new little girl in your life.”

  A second tear makes its way down his cheek. “My granddaughter is the second-best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

  Never mind the fact that I’ve got brothers. I guess they come after me and my Harper. I’m okay with that.

  “Oh, Daddy.” Now it’s my turn to cry. Wrapping my arms around him, I tell him, “I love you so much.”

  “I love you more, monkey.”

  Oh crap on a cracker. He broke out my old nickname. One he never uses anymore, and rightly so because it used to be “my chunky monkey.” He wisely dropped the middle word when I told him how much it bothered me. He had no idea because he didn’t mean it in a bad way.

  Wiping my eyes, I watch as Robbi takes her first step into the ballroom. Until this moment, she had no idea Bull was here. I know the minute she sees him up at the front because her steps falter. She turns to look at me, and in a quiet but squeaky voice, she asks, “Bull’s here?”

  Nodding, I say with my best smile, “Surprise.”

  “Thank you,” she mouths silently.

  “You’re welcome,” I return.

  The next to go is Susannah, then Saffie, then Patsy. My best friend, Tayler, my matron of honor, goes last.

  Oh, did I forget to mention Tayler’s married? Well, she is. To Luke, of course. We had no idea it was happening. They flew to Vegas one weekend and got hitched. Sure, I was pretty upset that she didn’t include me, but I was in London at the time, and they wanted to do it right away. I can’t blame them. So yeah, now she’s Tayler Sorenson-Green, an up-and-coming interior designer. After she finally talked Luke into redoing his entire bar, it turned out so well that offers from other businesses to do redesigns around town starting to roll in. Needless to say, there are some pretty amazing-looking bars and restaurants around Ames now thanks to my bestie.

  As soon as Tayler starts to walk, Bridget shuts the doors to the ballroom and waves my dad and me forward. She wants a grand entrance for me so Cooke sees me for the first when the doors open. I want to be surprised when I see Cooke too.

  “You ready for this?” Bridget’s looking
expectantly at me now.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.” I turn to my dad. “Are you?”

  “No.” He releases a nervous laugh. “But I love you, Harper, and I even love Cooke.” He chuckles this time. “As long as you promise to visit a lot, I’ll be okay.”

  “We’ll visit, and you’ll come visit us too.” I know that’s hard for him. He’s got a farm to run. “My stupid brothers can take over so you can visit.”

  “Stupid.” He laughs. “They can be.”

  Chapter Four

  “Here we go.” I look over at Bridget as she speaks into a headset. “Cue the ‘Wedding March.’”

  I hear the music. The traditional music played at every wedding I’ve ever attended. As soon as it starts, my stomach flutters. It’s really happening.

  Bridget and another assistant open both doors at once. Everyone is standing now, but I look straight ahead, and my breath catches the second I see him. He’s magnificent in his tailored tuxedo. He places his hand on his chest, and I can tell by his face that he’s getting emotional. It’s then I watch his lips move. “I love you,” he says just to me.

  “I love you too,” I reply.

  As Dad and I walk slowly up the aisle, my eyes stay on Cooke. I can’t seem to see anything or anyone else. Just him. That is until a squawk erupts from somewhere up front. Harper. It’s just one, though, thankfully. Cooke smiles at the sound, as do I. If we get through this ceremony with only a squawk or two, we’re going to be lucky.

  When I reach the front, we stop walking, and I turn my eyes to Gage, who was kind enough to get ordained so he could perform the ceremony today. I wanted him to be part of this day, and this is the perfect role for him.

  My dad kisses my cheek as he takes my hand in his. “Love you, Daddy,” I say just to him. Then I kiss him on the cheek and turn to Cooke. Stepping up, he places my hand into Cooke’s.

  “You look stunning, my love.” Cooke’s voice is husky and only loud enough for me to hear.

  “So do you.” And he does. Even in a light pink tie and matching pink pocket square, the man is dashing.

  We turn to face Gage, who looks a bit nervous himself. I give him a small smile for encouragement, and he returns one. Taking a deep breath, he begins, “Everyone, please be seated.”