Every Bride Has Her Day

by Janice Thompson

  “I think Brady and I haven’t even talked about dates yet. Plus we attend a great church here in Dallas, Mama. And just so you know, Brady’s mom has her heart set on—”

  “Dallas?” She spoke the word as if it brought her great pain. “Please tell me you’re not thinking about getting married in Dallas. The people you love live in Fairfield.”

  “Half of them.” I sighed. “The other half—the people I see every day at work—live here. And the girls at the bridal shop are already very invested, trust me. They’re making plans as we speak.”

  “You’re letting total strangers plan your wedding?” Mama sounded flabbergasted at this idea.

  “They’re not strangers, they’re good friends. And they’re not planning the wedding for me. They’re just working on ideas. On Pinterest.”

  “Pinterest?” Mama groaned. “You don’t need the internet to plan a lovely home-grown wedding, honey. And you certainly don’t need to tie the knot in the big city. Dallas is just so far away from home.” Her voice grew tense. “Don’t you want the people you grew up with to attend your wedding?”

  “Mama, Dallas is an hour away from Fairfield, not halfway across the country. If people really care about me, they would probably travel here. Not that I’m asking them to—at least not yet. Please don’t fret. I’m sure Brady will agree that getting married in Fairfield is the best plan. And I’m pretty sure Queenie would kill me if I didn’t get married at the Baptist church where I grew up.”

  “Maybe not. Queenie’s a Presbyterian now. Did you forget?” Mama’s voice held that crisp edge of disapproval she’d become known for.

  The phone grew warm against my ear, so I shifted it to the other one. “I know she is, but her heart is still at the Baptist church.”

  “That’s what getting hitched to a man of the cloth will do to you, I guess. You marry him and the next thing you know, everything’s changing.” Mama sniffled. “Kind of like what’s happening to you, now that you’re engaged.”

  “Brady’s not a man of the cloth, Mama. He’s a basketball player.” Even as I spoke the words, I wished I could take them back. With his post-surgery knee still bothering him, my sweetie’s professional basketball career was taking a backseat to helping out at the bridal shop. “He’s not a Presbyterian either,” I added. “We both attend a community church now.”

  Mama released an exaggerated groan. “I guess that proves my point. Everything’s changing. The signs are all there. I’ve been trying to ignore them, but it’s getting harder every day. You’ve left home for good.”

  “Left home?” I did my best not to laugh out loud. “Where are you calling me from, Mama?”

  A short pause followed before she finally said, “We’re headed to the Texas Panhandle, Palo Duro Canyon area. We plan to see that wonderful outdoor musical I’ve heard so much about.”

  “Yep. And where will you be next week?”

  “Ruidoso, New Mexico.”

  “After that?”

  “I believe we’re headed to Colorado. Or maybe Arizona. You know how your father is, Katie. He’s got the wanderlust.”

  “And wherever he wanders, you happily follow.”

  “He’s my husband.”

  “Exactly.” I did my best to punctuate the word.

  There was a lengthy pause on my mother’s end. “I suppose, when you say it like that . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  “I’m just saying that when two people become one, they start carving their own path. Doing their own thing.”

  “Could you carve your path a little closer to Fairfield? At least for the wedding day?”

  “I’m sure we’ll get married in Fairfield, as I said. And I’ll be calling the church myself to talk to Joni about setting a date.”

  “Joni’s not at the Baptist church anymore, honey. Remember? Now that she’s dating your ex-fiancé, she’s changed churches too.”

  “Casey was never my fiancé, Mama, but thanks for the reminder about Joni switching churches. I guess I’ll have to call Bessie May then. She’s still Baptist, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, but stop avoiding the obvious. You and Casey were very nearly engaged once upon a time, before he started dating Joni. And I suppose it could be argued that he’s the one responsible for nudging you off to Dallas. I still haven’t quite forgiven him for that, you know.”

  “It’s time you did. He and Joni are happily matched, and so are Brady and me. It will all work out in the end. So you and Pop enjoy yourself in New Mex—”

  “The Texas Panhandle.”

  “The Texas Panhandle. And don’t take any wooden nickels.”

  “I’ve never understood that expression.” My mother laughed. “But if I’ve heard your father use it once, I’ve heard him use it a thousand times. ‘Don’t take any wooden nickels, Marie.’” She laughed a little louder. “Every time old man Harrison would come into the hardware store, your father would say it loud enough for everyone in the place to hear.”

  “I remember.”

  “I . . .” She seemed to drift away for a moment. “I miss our days at the hardware store. Do you, Katie Sue?”

  “Mama, you and Pop just passed off the store to Jasper and Crystal a few months back. And from what Jasper tells me, Pop is still trying to manage things, even from the RV.”

  “It’s not technically an RV, honey. It’s a fifth wheel.”

  “You get my point. You haven’t lost ties with the hardware store, and I don’t see that happening . . . ever. It’ll always be a part of us, as will the wooden nickel phrase.”

  “Okay, okay.” Mama disappeared for a minute, then returned, breathless. “Hate to run, honey, but your father is about to drive us off the road and into a canyon. I have to help him with the GPS.”

  “Dumb thing gets it wrong every time!” my father hollered.

  “Pretty sure he’s talking about the GPS, not me,” Mama said. “But I can’t be sure.”

  “Be safe and have fun, Mama. And don’t worry about a thing. I will get married in Fairfield and you will be in the center of the plans, I promise. I won’t leave you out.”

  “Thank you, honey.” My mother ended the call.

  I put the phone down and laid my head on my desk, my thoughts in a whirl.

  “Things are that bad already?” Brady’s voice roused me from my ponderings. I sat up straight and released an exaggerated sigh as I saw him standing in the open doorway.

  In that moment, as I focused on him, I was reminded of the very first time I’d ever walked into Cosmopolitan Bridal and looked his way. That first day I’d felt sure I was looking at Adonis. The solid build. The height. The broad shoulders. The five o’clock shadow. The swatch of wavy dark hair that fell across his forehead. The compelling, magnetic smile. The mesmerizing blue eyes. These things had worked their magic on me then, just as they did in this very moment.

  “Katie?” Those beautiful blue eyes now reflected his concern. “Have I lost you?”

  “Hmm? Oh, no. Just more people trying to plan our big day. That’s all.”

  “I see.” He moved toward my desk, favoring his injured knee. “Well then, let’s just run off and elope. What do you think of that idea?”

  “I think they would all kill us. We’d be murdered in our sleep.”

  “But at least we’d be in each other’s arms.”

  “True, that.” Still, I couldn’t help but fret. Wedding planning wasn’t supposed to be stressful, was it? I mean, all of the bridal magazines made it look like so much fun. Our engagement was just one day old and we were already talking about running off to elope? What would the next few months hold?

  I rose and took a few steps in Brady’s direction. He slipped his arms around me and I nestled against him, all of my woes about the wedding slipping away. There, in that safe place, there were no cares, no anxieties.

  Until Madge popped her head in the door and hollered, “I’ve got it, you two! Let’s do a Hawaiian-themed wedding, luau and all! I’ll bring the roasted pig!”


  The groan I gave was pretty loud, but it was drowned out by the sound of Brady’s laughter. “Now there’s an idea,” he whispered in my ear, his breath sending tingles all the way down my spine. “We’ll elope . . . in Hawaii!”

  Funny. That idea sounded better to me than all of the others put together.

  2

  Valentine

  The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides.

  Audrey Hepburn

  I thought about Brady’s “Let’s run away to Hawaii and elope” proposition all day. In fact, the idea so captivated me that I actually dreamed about it that night. In my dream the two of us ran across the beach, toes in the warm sand, turquoise waves lapping at our heels. My gorgeous Loretta Lynn–inspired wedding gown floated around my ankles in the salty Hawaiian air, and Brady’s bronzed skin glistened underneath a bright, happy sky. We ran hand in hand at the water’s edge, embracing our new life together.

  Then the dream morphed. Still at the beach, we realized we weren’t alone. Behind us, running en masse, were all of our relatives and friends. They shouted at us, angry that we’d left them out of the plans for our big day. On and on we ran, past the roasted pig, beyond the hula dancers, through the palm trees, onto a steep, rocky path.

  The dream continued to twist and turn, finally ending at a volcano. With the accusations of our families and friends ringing in our ears, we raced to the rim. With no place else to go, Brady and I stared at the boiling lava below, unable to move forward or backward.

  I awoke drenched in sweat. Okay then. Maybe we wouldn’t run off to Hawaii and elope after all. Surely he’d just been kidding, anyway.

  After I convinced myself the whole thing had just been a bad dream, I yawned and stretched, then got out of bed and walked down the hallway to the kitchen. This morning I’d have to fix my own breakfast. Aunt Alva was at my cousin Lori-Lou’s house, tending to her children while Lori-Lou was on bed rest, awaiting the birth of her fourth child, a girl.

  Without my aunt in the house, I decided on a quick breakfast—coffee and a bagel with peanut butter. She would’ve fussed at me, though. To Aunt Alva, morning wasn’t morning without eggs, bacon, toast, or pancakes. The bagel tasted pretty bland in comparison.

  I sat at the Formica table and watched the sunlight stream in through the kitchen window, past the curtains with the little roosters on them. Strange how cozy I felt sitting here. I spent a few minutes viewing the Bible app on my phone. I had to laugh when I read the verse of the day from Philippians, the fourth chapter: “I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.”

  I traced my finger along the words, and a thoughtful smile tugged at the corners of my lips. No matter where I lived—Dallas or Fairfield—or what I ate for breakfast—eggs or bagels—I could not deny the obvious: I’d learned to be content.

  Mostly.

  I could almost imagine what Aunt Alva would say in response to that one. “What’s not to be content about, girl? You’re in the state of Texas, after all, the state of contentment.”

  Yes, I was in the state of Texas, all right. In Aunt Alva’s home. Satisfied.

  No, more than satisfied, really. I’d learned to love it here. I couldn’t quite put into words why I’d fallen head over heels for my aunt Alva’s little house. The seventies décor did nothing for my imagination, so it couldn’t be that. And the ever-present aroma of her rose-scented perfume didn’t exactly send me over the moon. Still, the house had a familiarity to it. The layout, the colors, the furnishings, the growing teacup collection that filled shelves and shelves . . . all of these things reminded me of home.

  Home.

  Fairfield.

  Okay, so I did get a little misty every time I thought about my hometown.

  For now, I’d settled my heart on staying with Aunt Alva. Doing so had, in its own weird way, kept me rooted. Grounded. Soon, however, I would leave her sweet, simple home. I would walk away from the Formica breakfast table and the Herculon sofa and would become mistress of the house in Brady’s uptown condo.

  A little shiver ran down my spine. Mama had once warned me that city dwellers had snakes in their kitchens. They came in through the plumbing, she said. And what was it Pop had said about neighbors living on top of one another? Ugh. Other than sharing a two-story house with my parents and brothers, I’d never had anyone living above me. Or below me. What would it be like to trade my simple, old-fashioned living environment for a fancy condominium on the fifteenth floor of one of Dallas’s most luxurious high-rises?

  And being married to Brady meant entering a whole new world. His life as a pro ball player—er, former pro ball player—meant that people recognized him. We’d never be able to go anywhere without the click of cameras. I let my imagination get the better of me as I thought that through. A few minutes later, however, I calmed down. We’d already been dating for months and hadn’t run into too many problems with his fans. Besides, these days he spent more time in the bridal shop and less talking about basketball.

  I finished off the rest of my bagel and walked down the narrow hallway toward my bedroom, pausing only to look at the pictures on the wall. I had to give it to Aunt Alva. She’d arranged the family photos in a rather creative fashion, squeezing approximately a hundred of them onto one wall. Clearly the woman loved her family. I couldn’t help but think she was proving that at this very moment by caring for Lori-Lou in her hour of need.

  I’d just finished dressing for work when my cell phone rang. I smiled when I saw my aunt’s name on the screen. I answered right away with a feeling of great joy rising up. “Hey, I was just thinking about you.”

  “Same here. Good morning, sunshine.” Aunt Alva’s chipper voice rang out from the other end of the phone. “Miss me?”

  “Terribly. How’s it going over at Lori-Lou’s place?”

  “The doctor says it won’t be long now. Maybe just another week or two before we see that darling baby girl.” Alva chuckled. “I’m making an assumption she’ll be darling, anyway. If she’s anything like her older sisters, she might also be a little rotten.”

  “Right?” I laughed. “I know how those kids are, trust me. I stayed with them once upon a time.”

  “They’re a handful, but I love ’em.”

  “Me too. I owe Lori-Lou a visit. I feel terrible that I haven’t been around much, but things at the bridal shop have been so busy. We’ve got a new line coming out—the Audrey Hepburn. Gorgeous.”

  “Yes, Eduardo told me. And it’s true that things are pretty chaotic here, what with the kids being so rambunctious. Joshie’s into everything and Mariela’s going through some sort of emotional spell. But I’m handling things as well as could be expected. Eduardo brought dinner last night. You wouldn’t believe the trouble he went to for the kids—set up a card table in the middle of the living room, put a fancy cloth on it, and even served them like a waiter. He spoke in French to Gilly. She laughed all evening long. The whole thing was priceless. I’d like to say I got some good photos, but you know how I am with that phone of mine. I can’t remember how to use the camera thingy to save my life.”

  “I can picture it now, even without the photographs.” In my mind’s eye I could see Eduardo—with his televangelist hair—playing the role of French waiter, taking care of the children’s every need. “He’s a great man, Alva. Truly.”

  “Yes.” She sighed. “He is. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve such an amazing fellow. Just good, clean living, I suppose.” She followed this statement with a snort. “Anyway, that’s not why I called, to talk about Eduardo. I have something specific in mind.”

  “Oh?” This caught my attention.

  “Yes. The kids are still snoozing and Lori-Lou is in the shower, so I thought this would be the perfect time to talk to you about your wedding.”


  “Sure, as long as you don’t tell me I have to get married at the Gaylord and ride off into the sunset at the end.”

  “Um, no. Now, let’s talk bridesmaids.” The passion in my aunt’s voice intensified. “I’m assuming Lori-Lou will be your maid of honor, since she’s your BFF and your cousin. Though I suppose that will all depend on when you have the wedding, since she’s about to have a baby and all.”

  “Yes.” I chewed on my lip as I thought about that. Lori-Lou would soon have an infant. Not that Brady and I had set a date for our wedding yet, but we’d need to keep this in mind, should we plan to include my cousin in the lineup. “I think I’ve always known that she would be, even though life has separated us at times.” I glanced at the clock and noticed the time. Just ten minutes until I needed to leave for work. Might as well put on makeup while talking to my aunt.

  “And you have a plethora of girlfriends to choose from at the bridal salon,” she continued. “Twiggy, Crystal, Dahlia, Hibiscus, and Jane. They’ll all look lovely in bridesmaid dresses, I’m sure.” For whatever reason her voice lost a bit of its animation.

  I opened my makeup bag and reached for the lipstick, then glanced at my reflection in the mirror above the dressing table. “Yes, but I doubt I’d pick all of them. I’m not as close to Hibiscus and Jane as the others, you know.” I swiped the lipstick on and then smacked my lips together.

  “Right. So, Lori-Lou, Crystal, Twiggy, and Dahlia. That’s four.”

  I considered that before responding. “Four sounds like a reasonable number.” I closed the lipstick and put it back in the makeup bag. “Most of my friends from high school have moved on and we’ve lost touch, so I guess that makes sense.” I fumbled around for the blush, which I finally located. I’d just started to color my cheeks when her words caught me off guard.