Some welcome. And some world. But this would be my home for the next two weeks, and I’d better learn to love it. At least here no one would break my heart.
8
Who Was That Stranger
A city is not gauged by its length and width, but by the broadness of its vision and the height of its dreams.
Herb Caen
Spending the night on an air mattress turned out to be quite the adventure. Add to the discomfort a crying child just three feet away, and it made for a sleepless night. Mostly sleepless, anyway. I did doze off a couple of times. One of those times I dreamed about Casey. Sad, sobering dreams. Bittersweet. I also thought about the fact that I’d missed the family’s Friday night gathering at Sam’s Buffet. Bummer. As much as I needed to be away from things, I still felt homesick, especially when I thought about the coconut meringue pie.
I awoke on Saturday morning with that horrible feeling you always get just before doing something you don’t want to do. The sound of the children’s voices rang out from the kitchen, but they paled in comparison to the argument going on between Josh and Lori-Lou over the AC repair bill. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on their conversation, but in such a confined space I didn’t have any choice. Lovely.
A few feet away from my air mattress, baby Joshie slept in his crib. I would’ve let him continue to doze, but the smell leaking from his diaper was enough to prompt me to wake him. Ick.
After I rose and slipped on my robe, I picked up the baby from his crib and made my way out to the kitchen, holding him at arm’s length.
“Well, good morning, sunshine.” Lori-Lou laughed when she saw me.
Mariela lunged at my legs, almost knocking me over in the process. Lori-Lou reached for the baby and said something about taking him for a quick bath before breakfast. The two of them disappeared from the room before I could say, “Hey, who’s watching the other two?”
I spent the next fifteen minutes debating the finer points of cereal eating with Mariela and trying to figure out some strategic way to get a Cheerio out of Gilly’s left nostril. I’d never seen anyone stick cereal up their nose before, so this caught me totally off guard.
My cousin’s husband came into the kitchen a few minutes later, matter-of-factly tugged the Cheerio out of Gilly’s nose, yawned, and poured himself a cup of coffee.
“Welcome to reality, Katie.”
His version of it, maybe, but definitely not mine.
“One day”—Josh gestured around the messy kitchen—“this could all be yours.”
“Once she finds the right man, anyway.” Lori-Lou’s voice sounded from the hallway. She stepped into the kitchen with the baby, wrapped in a towel, in her arms.
“So, let me get this straight.” Josh leaned against the counter and took a swig of his coffee. “You two are spending the morning at a bridal shop where Katie has won a multi-thousand-dollar dress that she’s not going to be wearing?”
“Something like that,” I said. And then sighed. “I’m not keeping the dress.”
“She’s keeping the dress.” Lori-Lou gave me a “we’re going to talk about this” look.
“No. I’m not.” I shook my head and sipped some of my now-cold coffee. “This is a moral decision. What would Jesus do?”
“Jesus wouldn’t need a wedding dress, but I suppose that’s irrelevant.” Josh seemed to drift off in his thoughts for a moment, then added, “He wouldn’t keep the dress. No way.”
“But she’ll never have another opportunity to have a dress from Cosmopolitan,” Lori-Lou argued. “And she won the contest fair and square. Nadia James loved her essay. That was the determining factor, not the wedding date.”
“Or the need for a groom?” Josh’s right eyebrow elevated.
“There will be a groom.” Lori-Lou glared at her husband. “Someday.”
I groaned at that comment. Right now I didn’t care if I ever found a groom. Weddings were highly overrated, after all.
“Might even be Casey. He’ll come to his senses.” My cousin passed the baby off to her husband and then poured herself a cup of coffee. “Wait and see.”
“Could we end this conversation right here?” I stepped toward the door leading into the hallway. “I’m not taking the dress. Conversation over. I don’t care how much it’s worth—it’s not worth it to me to do anything deceptive.”
“Amen. Preach it, girl.” Josh shifted the baby to one arm so he could continue drinking his coffee. “I’ll be here taking care of the kids while you two swank it up at the froufrou wedding place.”
“Swank it up? Froufrou?” Lori-Lou smacked herself in the head. “You’ve been watching those wedding dress shows, haven’t you, babe?”
“Maybe.” He crossed his arms at his chest. “What’s it to you?” This was followed by a belly laugh. “Anyway, do the right thing, Katie. Don’t take the dress.”
Lori-Lou grumbled about this as we headed down the hallway to our respective rooms to get dressed. She continued to fuss several minutes later when we got into my car.
“I get Josh’s point,” she said. “But I totally disagree.”
“Lori-Lou, I don’t have any choice.”
“Sure you do.” She pointed to the stop sign ahead. “Turn right up here. Then left at the next light. We’re about ten miles away from the store.”
“Remember that scene in Coal Miner’s Daughter where Doo takes Loretta out to a big piece of property and shows her the house he plans to build for her?” I made the right-hand turn and kept my eyes on the road.
“Of course. Turn left up here.” Lori-Lou gestured and I eased my way over to the left lane.
“In that scene Loretta and Doo have been married awhile and she’s had some measure of success, and he takes her up to this piece of property where he’s already laid out a plan for a house.”
“I remember, Katie.”
“Point is, he doesn’t consult with her, just goes off on his own and makes the plans without involving her.”
“Right. She got mad.”
“Very. I mean, she was thrilled that he wanted to build a house, but mad that he set out on his own to do it without her input.”
“I can’t imagine Josh going out and doing something like that without asking me.” Lori-Lou grunted. “For one thing, our bank account isn’t quite big enough for a down payment. We’ve been saving, but it’s so hard with kids.”
She carried on about their poor financial state, but I didn’t hear half of it.
Lori-Lou let out a squeal and pointed to my right. “Oh, slow down. I think we’re coming up on Frazier.”
I slowed down and she gestured for me to get into the right lane. “I didn’t mean to get you all worked up about that,” I said. “I guess my point was, sometimes we get ahead of ourselves. And that’s what I did with Casey.”
“You wanted to build a house but forgot to ask Casey if he wanted to live there?” she asked.
“Something like that. Not a literal house, but—”
“Stop! It’s right up here. See the sign?”
In the distance I saw the beautifully scripted sign reading COSMOPOLITAN BRIDAL. My heart quickened and then felt like it had turned to lead. I could avoid the inevitable no longer. What I wanted—what I needed—was to get this visit to Cosmopolitan Bridal over with.
We pulled up to the store’s parking lot, and Lori-Lou’s cell phone rang. She spent the next ten minutes bickering with Josh about how to discipline Mariela for coloring on her younger sister’s arm with a marker. I spent those ten minutes praying for the courage to tell Nadia James that I could not—would not—allow her to make me a wedding dress.
Lori-Lou ended the call and glanced at me with an exaggerated sigh. “He’s so totally hopeless.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s clueless when it comes to dealing with the kids.”
“He’s on a learning curve, Lori-Lou.”
She snorted. “Hey, he’s had those three kids the same length of time I have, and I�
�ve figured it out.”
I didn’t want to argue with her, but she clearly didn’t have it all figured out. Did any parent ever?
“Okay, you ready to go inside?” she asked. “This is about as close to heaven as we’re gonna get in this lifetime.”
“I . . . I guess.” Right now, it felt a little more like purgatory. If I could just get past this “tell them what happened” part, my stomach could stop churning.
We got out of the car and crossed the parking lot to the gorgeous double doors. Lori-Lou pulled open the one on the right, and we stepped inside Cosmopolitan Bridal for the first time. The place was teeming with customers, many of whom wore expensive clothes and carried designer purses.
I stared up, up, up at the chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings above. Wow. Candelabras graced the walls to our left, and the tapestries on the windows were crafted from the most gorgeous fabrics I’d ever seen.
“Whoa,” Lori-Lou said. “Check out this place, will you?”
“Welcome to Cosmopolitan Bridal,” an older woman behind the counter called out to us. “I’ll be with you shortly.” She turned her attention back to an existing customer and I turned back to examine the room. Man, what a place!
I couldn’t help but notice the intoxicating scent of some sort of air freshener wafting around us. It certainly wasn’t the Lysol spray Mama used to mask the odor of the kitty litter box in our upstairs bathroom.
Lori-Lou let out a soft whistle. “We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.”
“You can say that twice and mean it.”
“We’re not in Kansas anymore.” She giggled. “Check out that display. Do you think those are real diamonds on those branches?”
“Surely not.” They looked like diamonds, though. Everything in the place looked expensive. Right away I felt overwhelmed, and not just because of the mission set before me. I’d always been intimidated by folks with lots of money, although I’d never really voiced that thought aloud. The kind of people who came into this shop had money. Lots and lots of money. I had no money. Well, not much, anyway.
“Chin up,” Lori-Lou whispered. “You have every right to be here.”
I glanced at her, wondering how she’d known my feelings.
“You’re an open book, Katie.” She nudged me with her arm. “Always have been. Just enjoy being here, okay? Who knows when we’ll ever see a place like this again.”
“True.”
I took a few steps toward a row of white gowns, my head high, my shoulders back, with the most confident expression I could muster.
Distracted by a mannequin to my right, I paused. The wedding dress on it made me forget all about being intimidated. The gown drew me in and made my knees all rubbery, in a good way. Well, until I saw the price tag. “This dress is $6,700,” I whispered to Lori-Lou.
“Wow.” Her eyes grew large as she reached over to look at the tag for herself. “That’s more than we paid for the used van we’re driving. If I bought that dress I’d never come up with the money for a down payment for a house.”
“No kidding.” I made my way from aisle to aisle in the shop, completely mesmerized. I’d never seen so much white in all of my life. White taffeta, white silk, white tulle. Oceans and oceans of white. The mannequins, taller and slimmer than most I’d seen in department stores, were adorned in the gowns Nadia James had become famous for. Each was patterned after a female great from days gone by. I stopped to look at the Audrey Hepburn, then shifted my attention to the Grace Kelly. Wow. I couldn’t believe the detail in both.
On and on I went, looking at the various gowns. The Doris Day caught my eye, as did the Ann-Margret. The one that puzzled me most was the Petula Clark. I’d never heard of her. Neither had Lori-Lou, apparently. She stared at the dress and shrugged.
Off in the distance a gorgeous blonde—probably a couple years older than me—walked to the cash register to talk to the older woman. I stared at the tall, stately woman with her fashionable hairdo, expensive clothes, and over-the-top heels.
“Look, Katie.” Lori-Lou jabbed me with her elbow. “A real live Barbie doll.” She giggled and leaned over to whisper, “I wonder if there’s a Ken doll around here someplace.”
Yep. There was a Ken, all right. He appeared from behind the row of gowns to our left. A handsome specimen of a man—tall with dark hair and just enough of a five o’clock shadow to make him gorgeous. I stared into the most beautiful eyes—after I got past the solidly built Adonis-like physique. The guy had to be at least six feet three. Okay, six four. Except for a slight limp, he moved with confidence and a bit too much speed for his delicate surroundings. The phrase “bull in a china shop” came to mind at once.
As he rounded the corner, a swatch of wavy dark hair fell casually on his forehead. He brushed it back with his hand. Something in his handsome face felt familiar, like I’d seen him before. Then again, he had that familiar Greek god look—firm features, confident set of his shoulders, perfectly placed smile. And it didn’t hurt anything that the guy’s skin was bronzed, as if he’d spent the last few days on the Riviera, not holed up in a bridal shop. But judging from the fact that he ended up behind the counter talking to the older woman, he worked here. Fascinating. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. Didn’t want to.
He glanced at me, his beautiful blue eyes sparkling as he gave me a nod and said, “Welcome to Cosmopolitan Bridal.”
Lori-Lou stopped cold and grabbed my arm, moving us back a few feet. “Y-you know who that is, right?” Her words came out as a hoarse whisper.
“He looks vaguely familiar.” I gave the guy another look. Yep. Familiar. But why? “Do you know him or something?”
“Know him?” Lori-Lou clamped a hand over her mouth and then pulled it back down. “Katie, don’t you ever get out? That’s Brady James, point guard for the Dallas Mavericks.”
“Ah. Basketball.” That explained it. “I remember now. He’s one of Casey’s favorite players. I think I’ve watched him play a time or two.”
“Was one of Casey’s favorite players. He blew out his knee four months ago. Happened on live TV, right in the middle of a playoff game. I feel really bad for the guy.” Lori-Lou shrugged. “Wonder what he’s doing in a bridal shop. Weird, don’t you think?”
Suddenly something Madge had said made perfect sense. “Oh, wait. I get it now.”
“Get what?” Lori-Lou asked.
“Madge told me that Nadia’s son was taking over the shop when she left for Paris.”
“Seems a little weird that a pro basketball player is in the wedding biz, though. He’s definitely not the type. I once knew a guy who liked taffeta but always suspected there was more to that story.”
I gave Brady James a second look and tried to analyze him through that filter. Nope. No way. This guy was all guy, all six feet five of him. Or six six. He seemed to be growing taller the more I stared at him. Or maybe I just felt small in his presence. He certainly commanded the room.
Stop staring, Katie. It’s not polite.
But how could a girl help herself? A specimen like this didn’t come along every day, especially not in a bridal salon. Staring up into that handsome face, I almost forgot why I’d come to Cosmopolitan Bridal in the first place.
Almost, but not quite.
9
You’re Lookin’ at Country
When you take a flower in your hand and really look at it, it’s your world for the moment. I want to give that world to someone else. Most people in the city rush around so, they have no time to look at a flower. I want them to see it whether they want to or not.
Georgia O’Keeffe
Brady James looked at us again, and a welcoming smile lit his face. I felt my cheeks grow hot. Had he noticed me staring? He headed right for us, but I wanted to run for the door.
“Oh. No. You. Don’t.” Lori-Lou spoke through clenched teeth. “Don’t take a step. You’re going to face this like a man.”
“Face this like a man?” Brady asked as he drew near. �
�Well, if I must.” When he chuckled, his eyes sparkled with merriment, which only made him more handsome and forced me to stare even more. “What am I facing?”
“Oh, I was talking to Katie Sue here.” Lori-Lou nudged me with her arm, then looked at him with a smile too broad for comfort. “This is Katie. She needs to face life’s situations like a man.”
Brady gave me an inquisitive look. “Not exactly your usual opening line, but I’m thinking this has something to do with a wedding? Or a wedding dress?”
“Yes. A wedding dress. I’ve come to talk to you about a dress,” I managed.
A boyish smile turned up the edges of his lips. “Well then, you’ve come to the right place. I’m Brady. What can I help you with?”
Get it together, Katie. You look like a goober standing here.
“I, um, spoke to a woman named Madge. On the phone, I mean. Yesterday. No, maybe the day before. I can’t remember.” I’ve been busy getting my heart crushed, so the days are getting mixed up. “Anyway, she doesn’t know I’m coming today. She’s expecting me on Monday. Maybe it would be better if I talked to her alone? Would that be okay?” My sentences came out sounding rushed. Staccato. Breathy.
“Of course. I’ll get Madge for you. If anyone knows how to take things like a man, she does.” He leaned so close I could smell his yummy cologne. “Brace yourselves, ladies.”
Oh, I needed to brace myself, all right. My heart felt more vulnerable than ever as his arm brushed against mine. When he pointed at the middle-aged woman with dark red hair, I drew in a deep breath and willed my erratic heartbeat to slow down. I had to jump this hurdle so I could get back to the business of recovering from my heartbreak.
Just. Get. This. Over. With.
“Madge is one tough cookie.” Brady waggled his brows.
“Ooh, cookies.” Lori-Lou licked her lips. “When we’re done with all this, let’s go grab some lunch, Katie. I never get to have lunch without my kids.”
Every Bride Needs a Groom Page 7