The Wedding Flight

by Nancy Warren

  She had spent so much of her life in fictional worlds that an unpleasant suspicion grew in her mind that she had created one of her own. Now that the dress had disappeared, she wondered if, like Cinderella after the clock struck midnight, she’d go back to her very humdrum life. Dylan would see her, not as the dress had made her, but as she really was.

  When he caught a glimpse of her face, he said, “Come on, it's only a dress.”

  But, as the magic faded, her sense of herself as a woman who deserved a designer wedding gown and who deserved to walk down the aisle to marry someone as amazing as Dylan began to recede too.

  She said, “Do you think we're rushing things?”

  He turned to her and she saw an expression of hurt cross his eyes. “No. I don't feel like we’re rushing. I feel like everything is starting to make sense.”

  “What if we're wrong? What if what we’re doing makes no sense at all? Maybe the dress going missing is a sign that we should take things easy. Back it up a step.”

  “Okay, when you say back it up a step, what does that mean exactly?”

  She had no idea what she meant. Only that she did not want Dylan to end up feeling trapped because she wasn't the person he believed her to be. Of course, it was impossible to explain this. “I don't know what I mean. Maybe we should just slow down a bit.” She didn’t want to believe in curses, but it was strange that each of the brides who touched the Evangeline gown didn’t end up marrying the guy they were engaged to.

  “Could we forget that I semi-proposed to you in the car today?” he asked.

  Yeah, it was already beginning. The magic was receding and he was beginning to see that she was a very ordinary woman, not one you wanted to tumble into love and marriage with. She nodded. “Consider the incident erased from my mind.”

  Of course, that magical and slightly humorous proposal would never be erased from her mind. She felt that she would polish up the memory and put it on a special shelf where she could bring it out in years ahead to remind her of one of the most amazing periods of her life.

  He said, “What if we go get some gelato and watch a movie or something.”

  She shook her head slowly. “I think I need to go home to my own place. I've got to buckle down and go through more manuscripts and, well, I need some time alone.”

  “Fine. I understand.”

  “If I hadn’t come into the store that day and tried on the wedding dress, I mean, suppose we had met at a party somewhere, do you think you would have noticed me?”

  He appeared to give the matter some thought. He said, “I don't know.” He smiled a little and she was positive he was reliving that moment when she first tried on the wedding dress and he'd helped her do up the buttons. When their gazes had first connected in the triple mirror and she had felt almost as though lightning had struck her. Maybe the force of the current had gone through her body, through his fingers touching her skin and into his, infecting him with the same magic or witchery. “But,” he continued, “I'm really glad it happened the way it did.” Then he looked slightly thunderstruck. “Do you think we've already been at the same events and didn't notice each other?”

  That was a depressing thought. “In a city like LA? It's possible.”

  He shook his head. “Fate has a funny way of getting involved in our lives, doesn't it?”

  “It does.” And she wondered if he considered fate a positive force or a negative force. She hated herself for being this insecure, and refused to ask the question. But if that dress was cursed, and doomed to split up couples, what hope was there for her and Dylan?

  When she got home, she couldn't shake the feeling that as crazy as it was, she’d had some kind of a spell cast on her and now it was fading. June was obviously home since music played softly from her bedroom. A pang of guilt struck her; she hadn't even opened June’s book file. She’d printed off a hard copy at the office and not done another thing.

  She crept into her bedroom and then realized she was acting like a coward. She emerged and yelled, “Hey!” They always greeted each other when they arrived home and said goodbye when they left. She didn’t want to be rude just because she hadn’t had time to read June's manuscript.

  “Hey, yourself,” June answered. She came out of her room. She was wearing sweats and it wasn't a post-workout kind of look. Meg had the feeling that she had been writing.

  She was about to apologize and promise that she was going to open the book file right away when June looked at her in some concern. “What happened? You look like somebody ran over your puppy.”

  “Well, no animals were harmed. But, I have suffered a terrible loss.”

  June had her moments, and this was one of them, when she proved herself to be fantastic roommate. “Ice cream or tea?”

  “No, really. You’re busy and I don't really want to talk about it.”

  June shook her head so her ponytail bounced. “That's not how it works. You know what they say, a trouble shared is a trouble halved. Cut in two. Something like that.”

  “Who says that? I think the opposite is true. The more you talk about something the worse it seems.”

  “Well, I'm sick of looking at my computer screen and you look like you need a friend. We can talk about anything.”

  June pointed to the kettle sitting on the counter with one hand and to the freezer with the other and raised her eyebrows. Meg said, “Tea.”

  “Good. Tea suggests the trouble is fixable. And not the true heartbreak of a rocky road moment.”

  “We have rocky road?”

  But June thought she was joking and put the kettle on.

  She took the time to go to her room, dump her stuff and throw on her own sweats, then she returned to their main living area and flopped on the couch.

  June brought over her tea in a mug that proclaimed World's Greatest Actress. June was big on positive thinking. There was no mug in the cupboard for World's Number One Agent. She wondered if such a mug existed. Maybe most agents didn’t need the ego boost.

  June settled on the opposite side of the couch. “Well? What do you want to talk about?”

  It was pretty obvious she didn't want to talk about local politics or the environment so she said, “This is going to sound crazy. But, you know the Evangeline wedding gown?”

  “Sure I do. You fell in love with it, and you fell in love with the guy in the vintage store, and then when I went to try the dress on, he didn't even want to let me touch it.”

  “Well, the gown has been stolen.”

  June sat up so fast she slopped tea on her gray Berkeley sweatshirt. She never understood quite why June had that sweatshirt since she had not attended Berkeley. Given how big it was, she thought it might have belonged to a previous boyfriend.

  “Who would steal a wedding dress? Can you imagine the bad karma? I bet whoever stole that dress is cursed.”

  As miserable as she was, Meg had to laugh. “You are exactly right. It seems very likely that the person who stole the dress is Evangeline herself.”

  June's eyes opened wide. “No way.”

  “I don't know this for sure. And don’t even think about blogging about this. But we think it was her.”

  “Why would a famous dress designer steal back her own stuff out of a vintage store?”

  “Dylan and I thought that girl who brought the dress in for consignment was the one who took it back. When we tracked her down, well, we sort of crashed her wedding.”

  June snorted with laughter. “You, the most well-mannered person I know, crashed a wedding? I think I’ll more easily believe that a dress was cursed than that you would crash a wedding.”

  “Well, they are sort of related.” And then she told the story of how she and Dylan had inadvertently attended the wedding of Tasmine Ford and Eric Van Hoffendam. June asked the odd question but mostly she listened as the tale unfolded.

  When she was done, June said, “So, let me get this straight. This chick gets a super expensive wedding gown designed by Evangeline. During
a fitting the dress and Evangeline get cursed, and this chick doesn't get married in it.”

  “Right. And then the dress gets passed on to the groom's cousin, and she doesn't get married in the dress either.”

  “And then, in a super strange twist of events, the bridesmaid from wedding two gets given the gown, ends up marrying the groom jilted by the cousin, is this right?”

  “Yes. And then, because she wasn't going to wear it, because of her groom being the jilted groom thing, she brought the dress into Dylan’s store. And that's where I fell in love with both Dylan and the dress.”

  June settled back and sipped more tea. “I don't think you should be sad that this wedding dress is gone out of your life. Think about it. Every bride who was supposed to wear that dress didn't end up marrying the guy. Meg, that thing is cursed.”

  This was not what she wanted to hear. “So, you think I’ll never marry Dylan?”

  “What? You've known him like a month! What's all this about marriage?”

  She really did need a friend to talk this through with. She took a sip of her tea and liked the soothing warmth in her throat. “It's been like a dream, or a fantasy. When I wore that dress in front of him something amazing happened. And now the dress is gone and I feel like the magic is gone.”

  June was shaking her head violently. “No. A hundred times no! You get that dress far away from you and don't ever touch it again. Think about it. Girls who wear that dress don't get married to the guy they start out with, which means you would never marry Dylan in that dress. That is some serious, scary curse.”

  All Meg had ever felt was happiness when she’d stepped into that gown. “But, if something’s cursed, wouldn't you get a feeling about it? The feeling I got when I wore that dress was that everything was magical. I didn't feel like a single woman in LA with a crappy job. I didn't feel like a girl who had bad luck with romance. I felt beautiful and desirable and confident.”

  “You sure that was the dress?”

  She glanced over at June. “What else could it be?”

  “If Dylan looked at me the way he looks at you? I think I’d feel pretty sexy and beautiful and confident too. I think you're looking in the wrong place for your magic.”

  “Wow. I never thought of it that way . . .”

  “You're welcome.”

  Meg finished her tea and said, “You’re a good friend.”

  “I try to be.”

  And because June was a good friend she said, “I am really sorry I haven't had a chance to start your manuscript yet. But I'm going to do it right now. But, before I start I need to tell you something.”

  “Okay. What?”

  She took a deep breath, realizing that June wasn't her old boyfriend and she wasn’t going to pretend to like something she didn’t. “I'm not going to blow smoke. I'm going to be really honest, as though your book were any submission to the agency.”

  “Absolutely. That's what I want.”

  “Then you have to promise me that if I don't love the book we will still be friends.”

  June gaped at her. “Do you think I’ve spent five years in this town going to auditions for everything from dog food commercials to tampon ads to feature films without learning how to handle rejection? Give me your worst. All you can do is make me a better writer.”

  She felt a huge weight lift off her chest. “Okay. Deal.”

  Chapter 18

  Dylan stepped into Joe's Past and Present like a man with a mission.

  Both his mother and his aunt were in the store. He walked up to his mother and, obviously seeing his agitation, Janet came forward to hear what was going on. He supposed that was one of the qualities that made her books so popular. She never minded pushing her nose in on other people's business. But, he loved her and he knew she had his best interests at heart so he welcomed her into their little circle. He said, “Mom, you still have a lot of contacts in the fashion industry. I need to get hold of Evangeline. We need to get that dress back.”

  Joe was already shaking her head. “I told you, I've worked with her a few times. Frankly, I doubt she would even remember me, and she was always difficult. I doubt she's become any easier to deal with, especially, if what those women at the wedding told you is true.”

  “Oh, it's true all right.” He went to the computer that they kept behind the cash desk and pulled up a notorious gossip blog. He read a few choice quotes from the articles he'd already scanned. Headlines like, “Pretty Satin Can’t Hide the Fact that Evangeline is Cursed!”

  “Wow, I never liked the woman, but that’s cruel.”

  “I know. It’s mostly this one guy. Dixon. He’s got a blog and he strings for the worst of the gossip rags. Somebody’s feeding him information because he’s getting the inside scoop on clients canceling their orders for wedding gowns and how much her business is suffering.”

  Joe leaned over his shoulder and perused the screen. “Do you think it’s true?”

  Dylan shrugged. “Doesn’t matter if it’s true or not, if enough brides believe it, her business will be doomed.”

  Janet asked, “Honey, why is it so important to get that dress back? Sounds to me it should be purified with holy water and buried.”

  He shook his head. He didn't understand it himself, but he knew that for Meg the Evangeline wedding gown was so much more than simply a dress. She had imbued it with qualities of magic and promise. Like someone who loses their lucky medallion or their four-leafed clover, he felt that if she believed her luck was ending that she’d make it true. And since he knew that she associated them falling in love with that dress, he worried that without the dress she may look differently at him. He tried to explain this to his aunt and his mother but it all sounded lame when he said it aloud.

  Janet obviously picked up enough of what he was trying to say. She said, “Maybe I should call Evangeline.”

  “Why would she talk to you?” Joe asked. Her forehead crinkled as she looked at her sister and Dylan suspected there might be more going on with his aunt than a simple desire to help out her nephew. She said breezily, “I might be in the market for a wedding gown myself.”

  Dylan and his mother exchanged glances. Like they didn't have enough problems today. Joe asked, “You're not marrying that French guy, are you?”

  “He hasn't asked me but he's flying out here to spend a week with me. If I can still stand him at the end of the week I might marry him.”

  His mother muttered something under her breath. It might have been a prayer.

  “So, if you go and see Evangeline about designing a wedding dress for you, how are you going to persuade her to give us back the stolen one?”

  She shook her head. “No. I've given the matter a lot of thought. And, after hearing about the curse, I know I'm right. You and Meg are starting a life together. You don't want that dress. You don't want a wedding gown that three other brides have almost worn. What you want is a brand new dress. I think Evangeline should design one for Meg.”

  “Of course! That’s a great idea. She definitely owes us one.” Then he paused to consider. “But, if we were selling a secondhand gown for five grand, I can't even imagine how much an original costs.”

  “Oh, I can,” Janet said. “I've never had children. You’re all I’ve got. I will buy Meg her own Evangeline gown. It's my engagement present to both of you.”

  His mother interrupted, staring hard at Dylan. “Wait a minute. Since when are you engaged?”

  “It was stupid. We got to talking and suddenly I was talking about the future and us being married and before you know it I was sort of proposing.”

  His aunt’s eyes danced with amusement. “Well, do you want to marry Meg?”

  “Of course I do. I think I fell in love with her the first time I saw her. She’s amazing, and beautiful and smart and doesn’t even see how great she is.”

  Janet looked at Joe. “Sounds like love to me.”

  “But now the dress is gone, I think she's having second thoughts.”

&nb
sp; Janet made a sound like Bah, which he suspected she got from her new French boyfriend. She said, “That girl is so crazy about you it's beautiful to watch. But what you need, my darling nephew, is to do the job properly. It wasn’t the wedding dress going missing that messed things up. It was your bumbling accidental proposal. When a woman receives a proposal—” and she glanced at both of them in a rather coquettish manner, “and believe me, I know, I’ve been proposed to many a time—she wants to feel that she's the most important person in the world.” She sighed a little. “Even with the men who proposed to me whom I had no intention of marrying, I still enjoyed the magic of the moment. Now, a woman likes her man to do certain things when he proposes to her.”

  Dylan had a feeling he’d missed a few critical things when he accidentally proposed. “Should I make a list?”

  “That won't be necessary. I think your genius brain can manage to remember two things. First of all, you need an engagement ring. I think you should always make sure it's returnable in case she prefers to choose her own, but there's something about the sparkling diamond presented by a man on bended knee that brings flutters to a woman's heart.”

  He didn't really like where this was going. “On bended knee? Are you kidding me?”

  “It's your way of telling her that your heart is at her feet.”

  “I don't mind getting a ring.”

  “Not just any ring. It has to be something that you believe she would love.”

  Amazingly, he started feeling enthusiastic about this program. There were no jewelry stores open at this time of night, but he felt that he wanted to fix his bungling of things earlier as soon as he could. Suddenly, he had an idea. “Mom! Those rings that we used in the advertising shoot. You still have them?”

  Even Joe was getting into the spirit of the thing. “Yes, that's brilliant. Those rings looked beautiful on her.”

  “I might have to take the rings on the installment plan, all my savings are invested in our startup costs, but I’ll pay you back.”

  “You take the rings now. Pay me when you have the money.”