Every Bride Has Her Day

by Janice Thompson

  “Queenie, really? I live in Dallas. It’s an hour away, not halfway across the country.”

  “Might as well be when you’re my age. I don’t drive much these days, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “Isn’t it nice, then, that I come home so often?” I put my hands on my hips. Honestly? Had she been talking to Mama about this? Were they both out to make me feel bad for living in Dallas?

  “I can assure you, Jasper and I aren’t going anywhere.” Crystal offered Queenie a confident nod. “We want to stay put in Fairfield and run the store. Now that we have the Fisher family home, we want to raise our children there. It’ll be so lovely, just like a story from a book.” A little sigh followed her words.

  This served to calm Queenie down, thank goodness.

  “Have a wonderful time in Atlanta, honey,” my grandmother said. “Glad you’re able to show Jasper the town you love.”

  “I can’t wait,” Crystal said. “But we have to get married first.”

  “Speaking of weddings . . .” I turned my attention to Joni. “Tell me about your big day. I want to hear every detail! And you”—I pointed my finger at Crystal—“have some ’splainin’ to do, young lady. Why didn’t you tell me you’d lost your roommate when we were talking about Joni earlier?”

  “Didn’t figure it was my place. And I didn’t fib, honey. I just said I couldn’t have asked for a better roommate.” Crystal giggled. “Now, Joni, fill her in on your big day.”

  “I can still hardly believe it myself.” Joni sighed and a faraway look came over her. “We flew down to Grand Cayman—George Town—and got married on the beach. The water was the most beautiful shade of turquoise you’ve ever seen, and the sand was so white. And Casey looked so adorable. I wore a really soft, flowy sundress, one I bought in a little shop down there. I felt like a princess.”

  “Aww!” Crystal and I sighed in unison.

  Joni’s eyes sparkled. “Such a crazy, impulsive way to tie the knot, but I’m not sorry we did it. When you know something’s right, you just go for it.”

  “I understand completely. I feel like my whole relationship with Brady was ordained from the very beginning.”

  “It’s been a whirlwind,” Joni said. “We’re still living in my parents’ house while they’re away doing missions work.”

  “And I still have a room there.” Crystal laughed. “Awkward.”

  “Well, it’s not for long,” Joni reminded her. “Anyway, I’m still working as a wedding planner, only now I’m working out of my home. It’s been good, because I’m not limited to just the Baptist church. You know? I’ve been thinking of putting together a list of potential vendors too—everything from photographers to videographers.”

  “A real wedding planning service, then.” I nodded. “Next thing you know, you’ll be talking about opening a wedding facility.”

  “Well, it’s funny you should say that. My parents’ property is huge—sixty-three acres of prime ranch land. And they’ve got that amazing old barn out there. I’ve often thought about converting it.”

  “Sounds dreamy. Maybe you should tell Twiggy. I have a feeling she wants to have a good old-fashioned Texas wedding. Ranch land would be perfect.”

  “Ooh, maybe she and Beau can be my first customers. If he proposes, I mean.”

  “He’ll propose,” Crystal, Queenie, and I said in unison.

  At that point the conversation shifted. Before long we were all smiles. Until Joni asked me how my own wedding plans were going.

  “Chaotic,” I admitted. “Things are a little awkward with my future mother-in-law, who also happens to be my boss.”

  “You’re kidding.” Joni took a sip from her tea glass and settled back in her chair. “Why?”

  “Because she got a little heavy-handed with her ideas for the wedding. I just feel like I’m walking on eggshells when I’m around her now. I don’t know what to say when she starts dumping all of her ideas on me about the Gaylord Hotel.”

  “Ooh, great place.” Crystal sighed. “Oops. Sorry, Katie. Not saying you should get married there. I’m not.”

  “It’s okay. It is a great place. And she has a point. Everyone has a point.”

  “Tell me about it.” Crystal rolled her eyes.

  “I’d say I’m tempted to run away from my job and come home to Fairfield, but today’s drama put an end to that idea.” A nervous laugh escaped as I voiced my thoughts.

  “You’re not really thinking of coming back, are you?” Crystal looked intrigued by this notion. “I mean, Brady wants to live in Dallas, right?”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean I’d really do it. I just thought about it for a minute. Then the minute passed and reality set in. I love my life in Dallas. It’s different, but I love it. If you don’t count the part where my future mother-in-law suddenly wants to play puppeteer.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Crystal nodded. If anyone understood my dilemma, she did.

  Joni offered to drive Crystal back to the hardware store, which left me alone with my thoughts. I decided to sneak into my guest bedroom and give Brady a call. I put the phone on speaker so I could look through a bridal magazine I’d brought with me.

  Brady’s voice came on the line. “Hey, you. How did the get-together go? Crystal and Jasper’s wedding all planned out?”

  “Don’t ask. Let’s just say my heart goes out to Crystal, and to me too. Those ladies are something else.”

  “How so?” he asked.

  “I’ll fill you in when I get back. One thing’s sure and certain: they’re not going to make it easy on us. Just about the time I think I’ve got a workable plan in my head, I begin to imagine what the WOP-pers will say about it.” I didn’t mean to sigh, but there it was. “I have so many fun ideas . . . but I’m sure they’ll all come under debate.”

  “Ah.”

  “Mostly I’m just worried about your mom. I don’t want to hurt her feelings, but I want to get married here, in Fairfield. Is that so wrong?” I couldn’t quite finish my thoughts.

  “Of course not, and she knows that I want you to be happy.”

  “So, you just want to get married at my church to make me happy? That’s it? If you got to choose, you wouldn’t go that route?”

  “How in the world did you get all of that out of what I just said?” Brady groaned, and I could almost picture him slapping himself on the forehead. “I feel like I can’t win for losing here.”

  “Now you know what I feel like.” I plopped down on the bed and leaned back on the pillows. “I’m doomed.”

  “You’re not doomed. You’re just overwhelmed.”

  I shook my head. As if he could see that. “No, I’m doomed. Doomed if I do and doomed if I don’t.”

  “I don’t think that’s exactly how the expression goes, Katie.”

  “I know, but you get the point. If we get married there, my parents will flip. If we get married in Fairfield, your mom and all of my bridesmaids will flip.”

  “Which leads me back to my earlier idea of eloping in Hawaii.”

  “It would be great, but we would regret it later. Ask me how I know.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because Joni and Casey just did that.”

  “What?” This seemed to stop him cold. “They did what?”

  “Flew to the Cayman Islands and eloped. They just got back. And you’d think they’d committed murder, based on how mad everyone is about it, so trust me, we can’t elope.”

  “Well, all right.”

  “I want the people I love gathered around me. I just don’t want them armed with shotguns, ready to take each other down because they’re mad over our decision one way or the other.”

  “I’m having a hard time picturing my mother with a shotgun.” Brady laughed.

  “You know what I mean. We don’t want to start off our life together with our families hating each other. Can you imagine?”

  “And again I say, we need to do what works for us, not them.”

  A little kno
ck on the door sounded and Alva walked in. “Yoo-hoo. Do you mind if I come in a minute? Queenie wants me to grab a couple of the old photos from that drawer there.” She pointed to the oak dresser.

  “Sure.” I gave her a nod and she walked across the room.

  Brady’s voice sounded from the speakerphone. “You’re the bride. Do what you like.”

  “As if.” I paused as my emotions kicked in. “I want to come up with my own plans, but I can’t seem to think straight. Have you ever been so overwhelmed, so confused, that nothing made sense?”

  “Oh yes,” Alva said. “More times than I can count.” She rooted through the drawer, making a lot of racket.

  “One time in the middle of a game against the Rockets,” Brady said, “we were in the fourth quarter and the coach asked me to run a long shot from the outside. Didn’t make a lick of sense to me. I thought for sure he would’ve asked for something more straightforward. Why a long shot? But it turned out he was right. I ran that ball all the way to the opposite end of the court, just outside the arc, then aimed, fired, and landed a three-point shot. We won the game.”

  “Really? You’re comparing this situation to a basketball game?” I groaned.

  “Hey, it ended well. Did you hear the part about the three-point shot?”

  “I’m sorry, what were we talking about?” Alva turned my way, arms loaded down with photo albums. “You scored a three-point shot, Katie Sue?”

  “No, I was just saying that I’m confused, Aunt Alva.”

  “About basketball?” Alva nearly dropped one of the books. “I didn’t know you ever played the game, honey. Was this in high school? Of course, I didn’t really know you back then, which might explain why I never knew.” She held tight to the albums. “Though, I’m a little surprised, to be honest. You’re rather petite for basketball.”

  “No.” I slapped myself on the head.

  “No, you’re not petite? I’d say you’re only five feet three at best. That’s petite in my book.”

  “I’m not saying I’m not petite. I was just telling Brady that I’m overwhelmed and confused. That’s all.”

  “Brady?” She looked around the room as if expecting him to materialize. “Brady’s with us?”

  “I’m with you, Alva.” His voice came through the phone’s speaker again. “I’m right here.”

  She looked around again, then shook her head. “Boy, you think you’re confused, Katie Sue . . . imagine being me. One minute I think I’m living with my niece who works at a bridal salon, the next I find out she’s a basketball player. And her fiancé is invisible.”

  At this point, Brady busted out laughing.

  “Sure. Go ahead and laugh,” I said. “This is all very funny.”

  “I’m not laughing at you, honey.” My aunt patted me on the knee. “If the team was counting on me to make a three-point shot, I’d be overwhelmed too.”

  “There’s no way to redeem this, is there?” I sighed.

  “We could start over,” Brady said, “but I’m not sure it would have a different outcome, if you catch my meaning.”

  I caught his meaning, all right.

  “I’m just telling you to keep your eye on the basket,” Auntie said. “You won’t land the shot if you lose your focus. Don’t let anyone pull you off course.”

  “Okay, okay.”

  We somehow managed to get the conversation back under control, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the basketball analogy. Really? “Keep your eye on the basket”? Was that the best I could get, some silly sports analogy?

  I headed back out to look through photo albums with my grandmother and my aunt, who couldn’t quite seem to figure out why there were no photos of me playing basketball. I did my best to smooth that one over.

  Pap-Paul arrived home from his fishing trip midafternoon and greeted us with an open, friendly smile. “How’d the meeting go?” he asked.

  Queenie’s abrupt “Don’t ask” left him shaking his head.

  An early dinner at Sam’s was followed by an evening of playing Skip-Bo with my aunt, my grandmother, and Pap-Paul. Those sweet moments almost made up for the craziness of the morning.

  About midway into the game, my grandmother gazed at me with tenderness and tears in her eyes.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Just thinking . . . about the things we can control and the things we can’t.”

  “Oh?” I put my cards down to focus on her.

  “Attitudes?” Queenie shuffled the cards in her hand. “Totally controllable. Making plans for your own wedding? Controllable . . . if you have courage.”

  “What aren’t you saying, Queenie?” Alva asked. “Are you beating around the bush on purpose?”

  “I’m saying that life already presents enough situations where you lose control. So you need to hang on to the reins when you have the opportunity. Don’t give them away to anyone.” She put the cards down on the table. “Take this situation with my knee. I couldn’t control the fact that it started giving out on me. I can’t control the fact that I’m getting older, losing some mobility. I mean, I can do everything in my power to slow that down, but I can’t stop it. There are simply things in this life that we can’t control. But, that said, there are plenty of things we can. So when I see someone handing off the reins to others unnecessarily, I want to say, ‘Don’t do it! This isn’t one of those uncontrollable situations.’”

  “Handing off the reins.” I sighed. “Okay, I get it.”

  My grandmother swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “When I got sick last year—when I had that episode with my heart—I had to admit that I’d lost control, at least for a while. And when the surgeon put in this titanium knee, I couldn’t do much except trust that I’d eventually walk again.”

  “Like Brady, after his surgeries.” A lump rose in my throat.

  “Exactly. And let me tell you, there’s nothing more frustrating than sitting and waiting for your situation to change. It’s a helpless feeling, losing control.” She looked at me so intently that I felt her emotions grab hold of me. “So promise me you won’t give it up willingly. Unless God speaks directly to your heart, I mean. If he’s telling you to do this or that, then do it. But don’t bow to the whims of people just because you’re afraid of what they’ll think. Before long you’ll lose control completely, and then the person you’ll be most upset with is yourself.”

  “Wow, Queenie.” I considered the wisdom of her words. “You’ve given me a lot to chew on.”

  “Speaking of something to chew on, are there any of those muffins left?” Alva pushed her chair back and stood. “All this talk about losing control is making me hungry.”

  I thought about my grandmother’s words further as we continued the game. I couldn’t help but think of Brady and what he’d been through over the past year. How awful it must’ve been to lose control—of his pro basketball career, his ability to walk, his income. Those two surgeries on his knee had done a number on him physically, but they’d also affected him mentally and emotionally. How good of Queenie to put this in perspective for me. I wouldn’t let go of the reins. It would take courage, but I wouldn’t let go.

  Around nine o’clock Alva was ready to hit the hay. She headed off to the guest bedroom while my grandparents and I continued to chat. Another hour went by before an idea hit. “Hey, would you guys like to see my wedding gown?”

  Queenie looked perplexed by this. “I see it all the time in the cedar closet, honey.”

  “No, would you like to see it on me? In person, I mean. I know you saw a picture of it on the cover of Texas Bride. But I’ve been itching to try it on again.”

  “That would be lovely, Katie Sue.” She shifted her position on the sofa and attempted to stand. From the expression of pain in her eyes, I could tell her joints were bothering her.

  “Don’t get up, Queenie. I think I can manage.”

  “Really? Won’t you need me to zip it up?”

  “I’ll call you when I’m ready. It
’ll take a while.”

  And it did. I managed to get into the petticoat and then eased my way into the gown, which smelled a little cedar-ish. I’d have to take it out of this closet and return it to Aunt Alva’s place before long.

  Speaking of Alva, about the time I got the dress on, she walked down the hallway toward the bathroom.

  “Ooh!” She clamped a hand over her mouth. “I missed your wedding?”

  “No, Aunt Alva.” I bit back a giggle. “Just trying on the dress to show Queenie and Pap-Paul.”

  “Well, I dozed off and was dreaming of weddings, so maybe I’m a bit confused. My bladder woke me up. Poor old lazy bladder.” She put her hand on her tummy. “But you look lovely, honey.”

  “Could you zip me up?”

  “Well, sure.” She bounced up and down a bit to hold her bladder in check while she zipped my gown. Then she gave me the sweetest look. “You look terrific, honey. I’m sure a basketball uniform wouldn’t even come close to this.”

  “Thanks, Alva. Now, don’t let me keep you.” I pointed to the bathroom and she headed toward it, a spring in her step.

  I made my way down the hall, practicing my bridal walk. What would it be like, I wondered, to walk the aisle on my father’s arm, headed straight toward Brady? I could hardly wait!

  When I arrived in the living room, I found Queenie half asleep on the sofa. Pap-Paul had gone missing.

  “Queenie?” I said, and she stirred and slowly came awake.

  When she laid eyes on me, Queenie let out a squeal. “Oh, honey. Oh . . . oh . . .” Her tone elevated, and she angled her head toward the kitchen. “Paul, get in here and look at this gorgeous granddaughter of mine in her wedding dress!”

  Seconds later Pap-Paul stood in the open doorway with a teacup in his hand, giving me an admiring look. “Wow, Katie. You look . . .” He shook his head and his eyes brimmed with affectionate tears. “You look . . .”

  “Like the cover of a magazine?” I said and laughed.

  “Well, that too, but I was going to say you look like every groom’s dream bride and every daddy’s little girl all grown up.”

  Quite flattering, coming from a man who’d only been my grandfather for a matter of months. I had to give it to him, he really knew how to make a bride-to-be feel good about herself.