“Okay. If you’re not going to play or be any fun at all, I’m going to sleep.”
“Sweet dreams,” he sang.
“Sweet vows,” she returned. “And make it good, will you? I wouldn’t want to have to trade you in for a sharper model.”
Tips for Writing Your Own Wedding Vows
Make sure you work together to make a plan:
Are you writing separate vows, or writing them together?
Are you going to show them to one another prior to
the ceremony?
Have you agreed on the overall tone of the vows?
For instance, will they display humor, or should they be
serious and thoughtful?
Will you write them TO one another, or will you choose
an appropriate poem, Scripture verse, or passage from your
favorite book?
23
Did I wake you?”
Emma thought Sherilyn must be joking. “I’ve been up since four thirty.”
“Why?”
“Uh, it’s my wedding day?”
Sherilyn giggled. “I am aware. I just thought you might not feel well or something.”
“Oh, no. I feel fine.”
“Good.”
“What’s to be nervous about, anyway? It’s not like anyone will be there to witness the wedding, aside from you and Andy, and possibly Jackson’s sisters.”
“It’s not that dire, Em.”
“Let’s count the people who mean something to us who won’t be able to make it, shall we?” she suggested. “Aunt Soph . . .”
“She’s not doing any better?”
“Well, she’s staying at Mother and Daddy’s, and they have a nurse there to help. But she’s still confused most of the time, and Mother doesn’t think it’s such a good idea to expose her to so much unfamiliar stimulation, so . . .”
“I’m so sorry, Em. But I think that’s wise.”
“I guess . . . And then there’s Audrey.”
“Audrey still might be back in time.”
Emma groaned. “The wedding is in nine hours, Sher.”
“So that’s nine whole hours for her to get a flight.”
“Why is it snowing in Chicago?” Emma exclaimed. “Seven inches. Didn’t they get the memo that it’s spring? Did you shirk your wedding planner duties and forget to send them the memo?”
Sherilyn chuckled.
“And Russell is still in Brazil.”
“Yeah.” Emma heard the pout in Sherilyn’s voice as she acknowledged that fact.
“And Pearl e-mailed to say she woke up this morning with a tooth abscess, and she’s trying to reach her dentist . . .”
“Well, it’s better that she doesn’t come, then.”
“True.”
“It’s all going to come together, Em.”
“It’s only nine—”
“—hours away. I know, I know.”
“Well, it is.”
“Are you a little nervous?” Sherilyn asked her, and Emma dropped to the sofa and groaned as she gazed outside. The gloomy sky was painted dark gray, and the wind turned the leaves on the scarlet oak beyond the window.
“No. I’m just . . . I don’t know what.”
“I’ve been doing this a long time. And here’s what I know about your wedding: It’s going to be beautiful. Tomorrow at this time, you and Jackson will be married and blissfully happy, and none of these obstacles will even be remembered.”
“Do you think it’s going to rain?”
“I don’t know,” Sherilyn replied. “But Kat has got everyone on standby to move the ceremony to the Victoria Room if it does.”
“So you think it’s going to!”
“Em, stop it right now. It’s just part of my DNA to anticipate every possible scenario.”
“Including no guests?”
Emma knew Sherilyn well enough to understand her silence.
“I am heading to the hotel in about an hour,” Sherilyn finally said. “I’ll meet you in the bridal suite at two o’clock. Did you get my e-mail with the checklist?”
“Yes.”
“Did you print it out?”
“Yes.”
“See you at two.”
“Yes.”
Emma sighed as she disconnected the call. Something just didn’t feel right. She’d waited for this day for such a long time, but something just felt . . .
Off.
The sour taste of dread stung the back of her throat. Had she really become one of those people who came to believe that, if they actually managed to get a firm grasp on the hem of their dream, the other shoe would surely drop out of the sky and thunk! them down with its big, disappointing heel?
No! she insisted. I will not be that person. I will not give in to this.
Especially when the most assured truth Emma knew in life involved Jackson, and Jackson alone. If every person they’d invited tripped over a prior engagement, a sick child, or full-on food poisoning . . . If an unprecedented spring snowstorm hit the greater Atlanta area two hours before the wedding . . . If Ben Colson suddenly contracted laryngitis and couldn’t sing the song for their first dance . . . If every one of those disasters and more besides occurred simultaneously . . . the only thing that mattered would still be Emma and Jackson, facing one another, exchanging rings, and making vows.
One sudden thought sliced through her stab at positivity, spurring Emma to quickly dial the phone.
“Miguel? It’s Emma.”
“Emma, how are you? All ready to take the big plunge?”
“More ready than ever,” she told him. “What about you?”
“Me?”
“Yes, I was just wondering how you’re doing. Feeling okay? No unforeseen scheduling conflicts or car troubles?”
Miguel’s laughter reassured her. “No, Emma, nothing of the kind.”
“Oh, good. That’s good. Okay. Because I was thinking that, no matter what else might happen, as long as you, me, and Jackson are there, we’re pretty much golden, right?”
“Yes, Emma. No worries. I’ll be there, and in just a few hours, you will be Jackson’s wife.”
“Right,” she said on a sigh. “Okay.”
“I’ll see you at the altar, Emma.”
“Okay, then.” She chuckled nervously, wondering if she sounded as crazy to him as she did to herself. “You promise?”
Emma had always known Sherilyn as a force of nature to her many brides, but experiencing this firsthand brought that knowledge alive for her. From the moment she entered the hotel through the glass doors in the front, she ceased to exist as the mere baker at The Tanglewood Inn. She had now morphed into one of Sherilyn Drummond’s treasured brides.
Along with that distinction came a bevy of perks she hadn’t anticipated:
1. Tomás, the handsome, uniformed bellman assigned to await her arrival;
2. Automatic check-in at the front desk where the clerk called her to the front of the line and handed her a key and a fragrant rose, the stem wrapped in a ribbon emblazoned with the word “Bride”;
3. Tomás’s personable escort to the bridal suite where the claw-footed table that greeted her brimmed with chocolates, sparkling cider chilled in a crystal ice bucket, a handwritten note on engraved stationery bearing the initials of her wedding planner, and an assortment of fruit, cheeses, and whole grain crackers; and
4. Fragrant arrangements of roses and hydrangea in low vases on every table.
The whole scene just smacked of Sherilyn’s attention to the most minute detail, and Emma found sudden and profound common ground with all of those women who had preceded her—the ones who gushed about how the whole wedding experience at The Tanglewood had rocketed far above their hopeful expectations, mainly because of the recognizable fingerprints of their wedding planner.
“Will there be anything else?”
“No, Tomás,” she told him as she poured cider into one of the crystal flutes on the table. “Thank you so much.”
In sync with the click of the door as it closed behind him, Emma grabbed her glass, a strawberry, a wax-enclosed wedge of cheese, and Sherilyn’s note, and she tossed herself deep into the corner of the overstuffed green chenille sofa.
Em, make yourself comfortable and relax.
Fee and I will be along in a bit with some bride-type surprises that will make the afternoon of your wedding a lovely treat with your two best girls.
xxoo Love you.
—Sherilyn
Halfway into the third wedge of cheese, a knock sounded at the door and Emma skipped toward it. Flinging it open, she expected to find Sherilyn on the other side; the face of her mother greeted her instead.
“Mother! I wasn’t expecting you this early. Are you one of my bride-type surprises?”
“Can I come in?” Avery asked her.
“Of course.” Emma closed the door behind her and asked, “Do you want some cheese? It’s really phenomenal.”
“No. Thank you.” Just about the time that Emma began to realize the look on her mother’s face did not exactly say, “Happy Wedding Day, Daughter!” Avery turned to her and sighed. “You’d better sit down, Emma.”
“Oh . . .” She sat in the closest chair, which happened to be one of the ladder-back dining chairs at the round dining table.
“Is it Aunt Soph?”
“No, it’s not. I don’t want you to worry because everything is going to be just fine,” her mother prefaced as she joined Emma at the table and took her hand.
“Mother, you’re kind of freaking me out here.”
“Sorry. It’s just that I don’t want you to overreact, Emma Rae.”
“Well, tell me what I’m not overreacting to, would you?”
“Around two this morning, I had to take your father to the emergency room—”
“What! Why didn’t you call me?” Emma popped to her feet and circled to the back of her mother’s chair. “What happened?”
“He had a . . . mild . . . episode . . .”
“Mother, please.”
Avery sighed and blurted, “It’s his heart.”
“His heart!” Emma sat down in a different dining chair, her hand clasped over her mouth. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“Oh, honey, it’s your wedding day. And your father didn’t want you to—”
“That is so like him to make a harebrained decision like that.”
“—worry. Or worse yet, postpone the ceremony.”
“Well, of course we’re going to postpone it! Is he crazy? What hospital is he in? Is he at Fulton?”
“Emma Rae—”
“I’ll leave a note for Sherilyn,” she said, jumping to her feet again. “Or I can tell them at the front desk to—”
“Emma Rae!”
She fell instantly silent. Emma wasn’t sure she’d ever witnessed Avery resorting to . . . well . . . shrill. If she had, it had most certainly been directed at Gavin, never at Emma herself.
“Sit down.”
She obediently sat in the chair across from her mother.
“Your father was very clear about this. He does not want you to rush over there, to postpone your wedding, or to do anything rash. He’s going to be fine. The doctors have said it was just a mild episode of angina. They’re going to monitor him closely and get him on some medication, and he’ll probably be out of the hospital in a day or so.”
Emma’s heart pounded so hard that she wondered for a moment whether the bed next to him might be available. She could use a little heart medication herself at the moment.
“I want to head over to the hospital and see Daddy.”
“Why don’t you call him instead?” Avery suggested. “I think as soon as you hear his voice, you’ll feel better.”
Emma rifled through her bag until she found her cell phone. Avery handed her a card with the phone number printed on the front and a room number written in blue ink.
“Daddy?”
“Emmy! I hoped you’d call. How’s my little girl on her wedding day?”
“I’d be a lot better if I knew you were well enough to be here.”
Gavin released a bumpy little sigh. “No one wants to be there more than I do, princess. In fact, I’ve been working on this stubborn doctor of mine most of the morning, but he just doesn’t want to give in.”
“No, don’t leave the hospital before you’re ready, Daddy . . . It’s just not going to feel right getting married without you.”
Her mother got up when a soft knock sounded at the door, and she shushed Sherilyn and Fee as she ushered them inside, then whispered to them about Gavin’s illness.
“I’m there in spirit, princess,” Gavin vowed. “You know I am.”
“You’re sure you’re all right?” Emma asked, tears welling in her eyes as Sherilyn tiptoed toward her, kissed her fingertip and touched it to the top of Emma’s head. “I’m really worried about you.”
“No need. I’m a tough old geezer, you know that. Look how long I’ve stuck with your mother.”
Emma giggled, drying her tears at the same time. “You’re impossible.”
“This is what I’m telling you. I’m not going anywhere. But I’m sorry to say . . . it looks like I’m going to miss your special day. I’m very sorry about that, and I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Sherilyn handed her a tissue, and Emma dabbed at her nose with it. “Please don’t apologize, Daddy. Just feel better, okay?”
“I have to go, Emmy. The doctor is here now, and he’s going to talk to me about these fun little pills they want me to place under my tongue.”
“Well, listen to him carefully,” she instructed. “Don’t make jokes. Really listen to what he tells you.”
“Have a beautiful wedding, Emmy.”
“I love you so much.”
“I love you more.”
She disconnected the call before bursting into tears and nearly choking on the sob she’d been holding back during her conversation with her father.
“Emma Rae,” her mother said in a scolding tone. “He’ll be fine.”
“How do you know that?” she sniffed. “You don’t know that, Mother.”
“He’s a tough old geezer,” she soothed, tickling Emma’s hair with her fingertips.
She laughed. “He said that, too.”
“I’m going back to the hospital for a couple of hours,” Avery told her. “Then I’ll go home and change, and I’ll see you at the end of the aisle. All right?”
Emma nodded, and she blew her nose.
“You two take care of her,” she told Sherilyn and Fee before heading out the door.
Emma blew her nose again and wiped her eyes with tissues that Sherilyn handed her one at a time. “I had a bad feeling this morning,” she told them with a sniff. “I just knew something wasn’t right.”
“Your mother seems certain he’s going to be okay,” Sherilyn reminded her.
“But how can I get married without my father there?” she whimpered, and the tears began again. “Who’s going to . . . give me away?”
“Em, you don’t need anyone to give you to Jackson. The two of you have belonged to each other for ages.”
“And without my aunt Sophie . . . or Audrey . . . or Russell . . . or Pearl . . .”
“Emma Rae Travis,” Sherilyn said as she grabbed several tissues from the box in Fee’s hands and dabbed at Emma’s eyes and nose. “You and Jackson don’t need anyone there with you. We’re all just spectators to what’s happening between the two of you. We’re lucky to be invited along, but it’s not about who is there and who is not. It’s about the lifetime of happiness you’re about to begin.”
Emma gazed at Sherilyn for a long moment before glancing at Fee and grinning through her tears. “She’s good at this.”
Fee peered down at her over the top of her glasses and nodded. “She really is.”
“Now I want you to dry those tears,” Sherilyn said, handing over a few extra tissues for good measure, “while I brew up a nice pot of tea. I’ve
got Sheila coming over from The Ah Spa any minute, and she’s giving us all facials and mani-pedis . . .”
“Some of us,” Fee corrected. “I don’t do group mani-pedis.”
“Fiona, if the bride wants you to have a mani-pedi with her, you’re having a mani-pedi.”
Emma got up from the chair and headed toward the sofa. Fee grabbed her arm as she passed, her eyes ablaze with a “help me” fire, but before Emma could reply, Sherilyn continued.
“Then we’ve got Bruce from All Tressed Up coming at four to do your hair, and Millicent from Make Me Over for your makeup . . .”
Emma patted Fee’s hand and whispered, “I release you from the mani-pedi ordinance.”
“Bless you,” Fee mouthed back to her.
“. . . and I’ve ordered a very light snack for everyone that will be delivered around four thirty so that your blood sugar stays on track through the ceremony . . .”
Emma folded her legs underneath her and leaned back into the sofa cushions, watching her friend, the fierce wedding-planner tornado, with a grin.
“Oh! And Kat is taking care of things downstairs, but she’ll stop by to have a bite with us before she receives the flowers at five o’clock . . .”
Emma Rae Travis
and
Jackson Drake
cordially invite you
to join them
as they exchange the vows of marriage
on
Saturday, April 6th,
at
The Tanglewood Inn
Roswell, Georgia
The wedding ceremony will be held
in the hotel courtyard at 7 p.m.
Please join guests afterward
for an intimate celebration.
Dinner, wine, and dancing
to the music of Ben Colson
in
The Desiree Room
at 8 p.m.
“Set me as a seal upon your heart,
as a seal upon your arm;
for love is as strong as death.”
Song of Solomon 8:6
24
Emma peered at the reflection in the mirror, not entirely convinced that it was hers. Fee pinned the sheer lace veil into her wavy hair as Sherilyn expertly wielded a buttonhook, fastening the twenty-six rhinestone buttons down the back of her gown. When they were through, Sherilyn picked up the sparkly headband from its velvet case on the dressing table and gingerly set it into place on Emma’s head, careful to cover each of the veil pins.
Always the Baker, Finally the Bride Page 24