by Cathy Tully
“A friend of mine planned her wedding in only six months. I’m sure you’ll be able to do the same.”
“But, honey, four weeks? That’s only thirty days.”
With a frown, Cara crossed her arms over her chest. “So? What gives, Mom? Normally you’d embrace an opportunity to do all the planning. Is the shop becoming too much? Maybe you should hire more help.”
“The Flower Box is fine. Ann and I handle things perfectly between the two of us.”
“Then why do you seem so antsy?”
Missy sipped her water. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Why haven’t you been back to Luigi’s before today? This used to be your favorite restaurant.”
Missy couldn’t find enough to occupy her fingers. “I’ve been busy.”
“You need to get on with your life. Dad is.”
“What does that mean?” She gave her daughter’s face a close inspection. Had Vinnie been talking about his personal life, because that was totally unacceptable. They’d agreed at the time they separated to not use the kids as confidantes or middle-men in any way. Their separation was their problem, and did not involve the children in any way shape or form.
Cara shrugged. “He dates.”
Missy hoped she hid the anger that began to roil in her belly.
A waiter came over with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. “On the house, Mrs. Modesto.”
“Oh, isn’t this wonderful.” She glanced at Anna Maria standing by the hostess area, and waved a thank you. Anna Maria smiled and nodded.
Vinnie had to have said something to Cara and right now, Missy wanted to rip his larynx out. Once the waiter was out of earshot, she hissed, “How do you know he dates?”
Cara waved off the question. “It doesn’t matter. You spend too much time at the shop, Mom. You really need to get out more.”
“I get out!”
“Your monthly Bunco group doesn’t count.”
“Those women are my friends.”
“Mom, you need friends of the male persuasion.”
“I have Hugo.”
“You’re comparing a French Bulldog to a man?”
Missy felt her eyes go to slits as she attacked a roll and buttered it with jerky motions of the knife. “Do not diss my dog, young lady. Hugo’s love is unconditional and he doesn’t talk back, which is more than I could ever say about your father.”
Within days of adopting her twenty-eight pound white French Bulldog from the local animal shelter she found herself hating to leave him each morning. At night, she couldn’t wait to close up the store so she could get home to him.
Hell, she and Vinnie had been married twenty-seven years. Not once had she minded leaving him.
****
Later that evening, Missy almost tripped over a wrapped bouquet of roses waiting for her on her doorstep. In her haste to get to the shop that morning, she’d forgotten to leave on the porch light. In the dark, she nearly trampled them. After scooping up the flowers, she checked for a card, but found none. The oddness of that went right out of her mind as soon as she opened the door and the dog flew to her side.
“Hello, Mr. Hugo.”
She placed the flowers on the table and plopped into a kitchen chair just in time for Hugo to jump onto her lap. No matter how many times she’d told him he wasn’t a lap dog, he ignored the directive. As he showered her chin with kisses, her heart burst with love for this sweet animal.
With Cara and Dan living in New York and twenty-two-year-old Nick in his own place, once Vinnie had moved out, the five bedroom colonial that once was filled with laughter and the sounds of kids sat not only empty but eerily quiet. Missy needed a companion.
At the local animal shelter, she found Hugo sitting by himself in the back of a large dog crate. When Missy bent down and met his eyes, the connection had been immediate. Hugo jumped up from his pallet and hobbled over to her. The volunteer said that Missy was the first person the pure white dog had taken to in days. In her eyes it had been destiny—two lonely souls, each needing someone to love. It turned out Hugo needed life saving surgery, which the shelter couldn’t afford, so Missy paid for the operation and saved the dog’s life.
Funny thing about that—he’d been saving hers every day since.
As Missy scratched behind Hugo’s ears, the dog leaned into her hand with what sounded like a moan of delight. “I love you, too,” she crooned in a voice reserved only for animals and small children. “Did you buy these flowers for my birthday? Did you?”
Right on cue, he kissed her chin again.
“Well, that was awfully thoughtful of you.” She giggled and placed him onto the floor. She walked over to Hugo’s treat jar and handed him a dog biscuit specifically to combat mouth odor.
“Here, eat this. That breath of yours could stop a bus.” He jumped up and grabbed the biscuit then brought it over to his bed in the far corner of the room.
After she filled his bowls with cold water, and a mix of soft dog food and kibble, Hugo settled down for his usual lengthy chomp. She tried not to inhale. You’d think since this soft food she bought from the veterinarian was so damn expensive, it would at least smell good. No wonder the dog had bad breath.
She headed toward the stairs to go up and change her clothes when a piece of paper on the kitchen table caught her eye. From her best friend, Val, it read, “Come over when you get home.”
Of course. Val always remembered birthdays and every other special occasion. The flowers had to be from her. Missy went to her room, changed her clothes, threw on a jacket, strapped Hugo’s leash in place and walked around the corner to Val’s immaculate Cape Cod.
Once inside the door, Val’s cat, Cleo, shrieked and immediately raced away. Hugo groaned, then glanced at Missy as if to ask, what’s with her?
“Sorry, sweetie. She doesn’t understand that you’re friendly.”
The aroma of homemade spaghetti sauce swirled around her.
Over the dog’s snort of disgust, Missy headed into the kitchen where she found Val at the kitchen sink, filling two glasses with water.
“Yeah, Cleo isn’t so trusting ever since that nasty Rottweiler moved in across the street.” After wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, she walked over to hug Missy. “Happy birthday.”
“I’m stopping at forty-five and counting backward from now on.”
Val chuckled and returned to the sink to dry lettuce leaves. “So we’re having a wedding?”
Missy nodded. She’d made a quick call to Val earlier and filled her in on the good news. “Like I told you, Cara and Dan got engaged last night. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so happy.”
“Ahhh, young love,” Val said. “Good for her.”
Missy sunk into a kitchen chair and unleashed Hugo, who then collapsed at her feet. “She wants me to plan the wedding.”
Val turned to face her. “The whole thing?”
Missy blew out a deep, calming breath. It didn’t work. “Uh huh.” She slipped out of her jacket and hung it on the back of the chair.
“Where will you find the time?”
Missy shrugged. “I guess I’ll have to make it. They’ve lived together for two years, but now decide they have to be married in four weeks. I’m happy to oblige. I just want her to be happy.”
Val slid into the seat opposite her and gave her the fish-eye. “Is she pregnant?”
Missy chuckled. “That’s what I thought, but she told me in no uncertain way that she and Dan don’t plan on children for quite a while.”
“How will you find a hall with an opening on such short notice? You’re good, honey, but you’re not Wonder Woman.”
“I don’t know about that, but I won’t disappoint her. At least the church is available. I called Father Timothy this afternoon and booked it. That’s one thing off the list,” Missy said, and noticed the kitchen table was set for two. “Did you do this for me?”
Val nodded. “You didn’t eat dinner, did you?”
“Nope. I
just got home.”
“I figured.”
“Thanks for the flowers. They’re beautiful. How did you manage to get them and avoid seeing me at the shop?”
Val frowned. “Flowers?”
“The ones on my doorstep. They’re from you, right?”
“Nope. You bit my head off last year for buying you a birthday present. I wasn’t about to go through a repeat of that debacle.”
It was true. With her and Vinnie on the rocks and not feeling very good about herself, Missy decided she didn’t want to be reminded of birthdays anymore so she forbade the kids and Val from buying anything for her. “I wonder who they’re from?”
“Wasn’t there a card?”
“No.”
“Ohhh, you have a secret admirer!” As the oven timer went off, Val stood and pulled a casserole from the oven. Placing it on the trivet, she said, “Look, I made your favorite dinner. Veal Parmigiana.”
This flower mystery irritated Missy and the words flew out of her mouth before she could stop herself. “I wish everyone would stop making me my favorite food! First Luigi, now you.”
Val tipped her head in question. “What the hell?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to snap at you.”
“Why aren’t you in a good mood? I mean, I know you don’t like birthdays, but you did spend your day with Cara. And now we’re sitting down to this primo meal made from scratch by me!”
“It did.” She hesitated and swallowed hard. “We went to Luigi’s for lunch.”
Val’s face drained of all color. Eyes wide and forehead wrinkled, she slid into the chair opposite Missy and covered her hand with hers. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry. You must have been dying inside. Did you see that bonehead of an ex everywhere you looked?”
Missy blew out a deep breath and ran her fingers through her hair. “No, thank God, but it was harder than I thought it would be.”
“Stop playing with your hair,” Val snapped. “You always do that when you’re upset.”
“I forgot to comb it before I came over. It’s a mess.”
“Yeah, I should have such messes in my life.”
Whereas Val was facing rapidly thinning hair associated with menopause, Missy’s thick unruly curls had been a long-term bone of contention between the two women. Playing with her hair was one of her tell tale signs for anxiety.
“Talk to me, sweetie.”
“He’s dating,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Val nodded in silent encouragement.
Missy met her friend’s eyes and wanted to hit something. “Why is my acclimation to this separation so hard while he seems to be finding it so easy?”
Val walked to the wine rack on the counter, pulled out a bottle of Merlot, poured Missy a large glass and handed it to her. “Men are idiots with as much depth as a can of peas.”
“Thanks for being on my side.” Missy sipped from her glass of sanity.
The two women clinked their glasses in toast. “Honey, yours is the only side.”
Chapter Two
On Friday morning, Missy picked up the shop phone and heard her daughter’s voice. “Hi, Mom. I was hoping you’d be free tomorrow.”
As Cara’s usually frazzled tone had kicked up a couple notches, Missy’s radar rose. “Sure. Why?”
“I was talking to a friend of mine who got married last year, and she said if I don’t go as soon as possible and pick out a wedding gown, it may not be ready in four weeks.”
Missy gnawed at her bottom lip. Delays in available wedding dresses only topped the list of bad news. She’d spent the morning on the phone with catering halls. “I’m glad you mentioned the time dilemma, honey, because all the places on the list you gave me are booked solid for at least a year.”
“I’m sure you’ll find one, Mom. So, tomorrow morning can you meet me at my apartment by ten so we can hit a few bridal salons?”
“You bet. See you then.”
The fact that Cara wasn’t worried about a catering hall didn’t unnerve her. Missy was worried enough for fifty people. She pulled the phone book from the shelf and began circling places that Cara hadn’t listed. There were five possibilities, so she got right to work. Forty minutes later, Ann walked into the backroom and offered a mug of hot coffee.
Missy held the mug in her hands and inhaled the tantalizing aroma of almond biscotti. “Thanks, I need this.”
“What’s wrong?” She plopped into the oversized chair opposite the desk.
Missy took another sip from the mug before leaning back in her desk chair. “I can’t find a place to hold the wedding reception. Every hall I’ve called is booked into next year.”
Ann quickly spouted the names of half a dozen locations.
Missy shook her head. “I called all of them.”
“What will you do?”
“I’ll have to talk to Cara tomorrow before we go shopping for wedding gowns. Maybe we can come up with an alternative venue.”
Ann picked up the photo of Cara from her senior prom that Missy kept on her desk. “They grow up so fast.”
Missy sighed. “My baby buying a wedding gown. It’s hard to digest.”
Ann turned to leave after the bell above the door rang. “Just make sure you bring lots of tissues.”
Missy sipped her coffee. Tissues. Right. One more thing she needed to think about: bawling like a baby.
****
The next morning, Missy climbed the four flights of stairs to her daughter’s apartment in Manhattan. Blaring televisions, crying babies, and people yelling at each other seeped from under doorways. With the hallway reeking of cat urine, she inhaled only when necessary and, after reaching the top, paused to catch her breath.
Cara claimed the rent for their two bedroom was cheap, but Missy had to think even the bargain of the century wasn’t worth watery eyes and holding your breath for four flights every single day. She rang the bell. Flushed and out of breath, she ran her hands down her linen pants, which had become incredibly wrinkled after the two hour train ride into the city.
“Hi, Mom. Come in.”
Missy relished her daughter’s hard hug and returned it ten times over. Why was she so emotional? It really wasn’t like her and it had to stop before she collapsed into a puddle. “Don’t we have to get going?”
“We have a few minutes. Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, I’m fine.” She followed her daughter down the long hall into the bright and sparsely decorated living room. She and Dan were into that whole “less is more” trend. Missy thought it just made the apartment look cold and empty, but hell, she didn’t have to live there.
“You look like a deer in the headlights, Miss.”
Vinnie. She hadn’t seen him in nine months and wasn’t prepared for him now. The news that he’d been dating upset her more than she liked to admit. She assumed she still had a few weeks to compartmentalize the information, to place him in a part of her brain where he no longer affected her before they saw each other at the wedding. She’d prayed time apart would expedite this. No such luck.
Seeing him now brought all of their years together rushing back. Why he still affected her, she wasn’t sure, but damn, she hated that these feelings for him still existed. How far down would she have to push her emotions for this man before they stayed buried?
But there he stood, hands shoved into the pockets of stone-washed jeans that fit much too well, a blue pullover shirt and matching sports jacket and black shoes. She didn’t recognize his finished look—and hell if the look wasn’t magic. Damn him.
To make matters worse, a large smile was plastered on his face as he walked over and hugged her. “Missy. You look wonderful.”
The delicious, woodsy aftershave weakened her knees. Curse him.
She pulled away and croaked a thank you. Then, brushing her hands on her slacks, she shot Cara a, why didn’t you tell me he’d be here? glance.
“What a nice surprise,” Missy lied and felt particularly uncomfor
table as her daughter rung her hands and bit her bottom lip; two sure signs the kid was a nervous wreck.
Cara walked over and took her mother’s hand. “I was afraid if I told you Dad would be joining us, you might not come. Today’s important, Mom. I want you both with me.”
Missy shot Vinnie a say anything out of line and I’ll kick your ass look. Gritting her teeth till she was certain blood dripped from each corner of her mouth, she muttered, “I wouldn’t miss this day for anything, honey. Besides, your father and I are adults. We’re past all that stuff.” She turned to glare at him through slitted eyes. “Right?”
Vinnie cleared his throat and took a step back. “Absolutely. Your wedding is the most important thing to us, sweetie.”
Cara walked to the sofa where she picked up her jacket. “Thank God. I honestly didn’t know what I was going to do if you two…well, never mind. Just goes to show, Dan was right.”
“About what?” Missy asked.
“He thinks I don’t give the two of you enough credit. That it’s been almost a year and I am worrying for nothing.”
“Dan is very wise.” Missy glanced at her snake in the grass husband who still wore that ridiculous smile on his too handsome face. “You shouldn’t worry about the two of us.”
As they walked toward the door, Vinnie placed one hand on Missy’s lower back. After a sharp elbow in the ribs, he quickly dropped his hand. Ignoring the familiar tingle shooting through her, she pushed all thoughts pertaining to him aside. Today was about Cara.
After arriving at Beautiful Bridals by Barbara, Vinnie excused himself to visit the men’s room while Cara went over the specifications for her dress with the saleswoman, emphasizing the four-week deadline.
Activity filled the dress shop. What Missy assumed were brides-to-be giggled and laughed in small groups throughout the expansive lobby. A larger than life crystal chandelier hung above them while soft music played in the background and an almost electric vibe filled the upscale shop.