How to Make a Wedding

by Cindy Kirk

  No, I didn’t know. And I didn’t care to, thank you very much. She’d lost me at the words fourteen-year-old.

  “I knew I could count on you, Mari. You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever known. Of course, with you and Tyler both being five foot two, you guys will be at the end of the line, but I knew you wouldn’t mind that part. You know, his coloring is even a lot like yours—sandy blond hair, blue eyes.”

  “Wait. End of the line?”

  “Well, sure, Mari. I mean, you’re”—she paused and her nose wrinkled for the third time—“petite.”

  “You mean short.”

  “Well, five foot two is a great height . . . for you. But the other girls happen to be taller. So I’m putting everyone in order according to height. That’s another reason Mrs. Havenhurst suggested Sienna—she’s five nine, the tallest in the bunch. Cassie’s five seven, so she’ll be the first bridesmaid. We’ll work our way down from there.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way.” She gave me a puzzled look. “Are your feelings hurt, Mari? Please tell me they’re not.”

  I couldn’t really answer without lying, so I hesitated before finally coming back with, “Just having kind of an off day.”

  “Well, get back on again, okay?” Crystal clasped her hands together at her chest and released a girlish sigh. “I’m counting on you to stay focused. We have a wedding to plan!”

  So my sister did want my help. Maybe I should just stand back and let Sienna perform her job as maid of honor, and wait for Crystal to tell me what she needed me to do. I certainly didn’t want to overstep like a certain future mother-in-law already had.

  And from the look of sheer joy in Crystal’s eyes, I’d better snap out of my bad mood and focus on the bride to be. This was all about her, after all. With a forced smiled, I made up my mind to do just that.

  Less than a week after their announcement, Crystal and Phillip invited all the bridesmaids and groomsmen to our house for a Saturday afternoon BBQ. As much as I hated to admit it, my jealousy toward Sienna tainted the event for me.

  I’d known the buxom blond since childhood. Of course, she wasn’t buxom as a kid. Then again, she wasn’t shapely as a teen, either. The drastic change in Sienna’s physique had only come about recently after a so-called week of vacation in the Caribbean. A week at the plastic surgeon’s office was more like it. Still, I tried not to focus on her Double D’s, though tonight’s ensemble—a bright-pink and lime-green fitted dress with low-cut bodice—made that difficult.

  “Suck it up, Buttercup.” Dad’s voice sounded to my right.

  I startled to attention and turned to find my father standing next to me, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

  “I’m sorry. What?”

  “I said, ‘Suck it up, Buttercup.’ ” He nudged me with his elbow, then leaned down and whispered, “I know what you’re thinking.”

  “You do?”

  “Yep. You can’t stand that girl. You’ve hated her ever since she stole your sister’s boyfriend in sixth grade. I never cared much for that Joey O’Shea, anyway.”

  “Me either, but hate is a strong word. I just can’t stand that she always draws so much attention to herself.”

  “Let’s get real.” My father chuckled. “We both know why the guys can’t look away.”

  “I know, I know.” And those Double D’s aren’t even real.

  Still, it bugged me. Even Tyler—the socially awkward fourteen-year-old—had been rendered speechless by the effervescent and curvaceous Sienna. Then again, the gawky stare might be Tyler’s norm.

  “That’s not the only reason you’re upset, is it?” Dad gave me a sympathetic look. “I see what your sister’s done to you. You and that gangly kid with pimples have been coupled up for this shindig, right?”

  “We’re not a couple. Ew.”

  “Right, right.” He slung his arm over my shoulder and pulled me into a bear hug. “Well, you get my point. And you have two choices: either you can spend the next four months moaning and groaning about it, or you can suck it up and do the right thing.”

  “That’s the point. I always do the right thing, and look where it’s gotten me—standing at the end of the line.”

  “At least you’re in the line. Did I ever tell you the story about my older sister eloping and leaving the whole family out of her big day? Broke my mother’s heart. Mine too.” Dad’s carefree expression shifted as his lips curled downward in a frown. “Anyway, I’m just happy Crystal is a family girl. She’s involved all of us in her wedding plans, and I’m grateful. It’s gonna be a wonderful day”—he pursed his lips—“even if the reception is at the River Oaks Country Club at sixty-five dollars a head.”

  I started to respond, but something—rather, someone—caught my eye. Walking through the front door was the most gorgeous specimen of a man I’d ever clamped my eyes on. Something about the solidly built, dark-haired fellow looked familiar, but I didn’t know why. The other bridesmaids gathered around him, all giggles and smiles, greeting him like an old friend. Weird. I had met Phillip’s other two friends before, but was I the only one who had never met this one? Sienna practically lunged herself into his arms with a boisterous giggle.

  “I don’t believe it.” Dad almost tripped over his own feet as he took a couple of steps away from me. “T-that’s Derrick Richardson.”

  “Derrick Richardson?” The name sounded familiar. And the confident stride and broad, white-toothed smile looked familiar too. Wow, this guy would be a shoo-in for toothpaste commercials.

  Commercials.

  TV.

  That’s where I’d seen him before. I felt sure of it. He starred in a television commercial for Accentuate Bank, my employer.

  “He’s an actor?” I whispered to my dad.

  He snorted. “An actor? Only if you call his work on the ball field acting. He’s the best right fielder the Astros have ever had, kid. You need to get out more. Go see a game or two. Why your mother raised you to love theater instead of sports, I will never understand.”

  “Ah, he’s a ballplayer, then. Whatever.” I shrugged, feeling a little less impressed than before. I’d never been much for sports, especially baseball. Who had the patience to sit through all those innings just to watch grown men jog around those little placemat things?

  “But he does a TV commercial for Accentuate Bank too?” I asked.

  “Now that you mention it, I think he does.”

  “I knew it.”

  Tyler appeared to spring to life in Derrick’s presence. The gawky teen wedged his way through the crowd of girls and, with a goofy grin on his face, came to a stop directly in front of the guy, then stammered, “D-dude. You’re D-Derrick R-Richardson.”

  “I am.” The handsome ballplayer extended his hand in Tyler’s direction. “And you are . . .?”

  “T-Tyler Havenhurst. I think.” Tyler grabbed Derrick’s hand and shook it with great zeal. “My cousin talks about you all the time. He thinks you’re great.”

  “Well, I’m honored to be your cousin’s best man, Tyler. Phillip’s been a good friend to me since high school, though we haven’t seen each other very much the last few years.”

  “I’ve been dying to meet you. I think you’re great too.”

  Tyler continued to shake Derrick’s hand. “You totally saved that last game. We were down for the count, and you came through for us. We owe you, man.”

  Derrick gently drew his hand away and shrugged. “Happened to be a good night, I guess. I’ve had a few rough ones too. Trust me.”

  Cassie sidled up next to me and giggled. “Ooh, if Derrick Richardson has any flaws, I don’t see them.”

  I couldn’t really argue that point. Still, I didn’t understand why everyone seemed to be fawning over this guy. Except for the gorgeous physique, he appeared to be perfectly normal.

  My father headed off to greet our new guest, then disappeared outside to tend to the meat on the grill. The yummy scent of barbecue permea
ted the house as the back door opened. Yum. I could hardly wait. Let the others make a big deal about the baseball player. I’d stay off in the shadows. That’s what the fifth-in-line bridesmaid usually did, right?

  Phillip introduced Derrick to the rest of the group, and before long everyone was gathered around the food table, nibbling on appetizers. Derrick and I both reached for the nacho dip at the same time and our hands bumped.

  “Oh. Sorry.” I pulled my hand away.

  “No problem.” As he withdrew his own hand, his beautiful brown eyes locked with mine. “I would never fight with a girl over nacho dip. You go first.” He gave a funny little bow and flashed a boyish smile. Yep. Great white teeth. Definitely a shoo-in for a toothpaste commercial. Or maybe those teeth-whitening strips.

  My heart did a funny little fluttering thing, and I released a slow breath. No way would I make a goober of myself over this guy like the other girls had done. Better stick to business.

  “Thank you.” I grabbed the spoon and put a hefty scoop of dip on my plate. “And by the way, this is a very special nacho dip. I make it with spicy sausage. I’d be willing to bet you’ve never had anything like it.”

  “Well then, forget what I said about not fighting with a girl.” He snagged the spoon from my hand. “Out of my way, Southpaw.”

  “Southpaw?” I stared across the table, up into his eyes, feeling a little confused.

  “Yeah. You’re a leftie, right?” He pointed to my hand, the one he’d pulled the spoon from.

  I chuckled and pulled my hand away. “Yeah, I’m a leftie. But don’t hold it against me.”

  “Hey, some of the best players I know are southpaws.” His face turned red. “Not that I’m calling you a player.” Now he shook his head and grimaced. “I’m always putting my foot in my mouth.” Derrick took a large scoop of my nacho dip and then stuck a chip into it. After shoving the chip into his mouth, a deliriously happy look came over his face. “Mmm.”

  Okay, I had to admit, he looked mighty cute—er, handsome—standing there with a dribble of nacho cheese dip on his lower lip. I fought the temptation to reach up and wipe it off with a fingertip. Instead I pointed, and he reached for the napkin I offered with my right hand.

  “Here’s something better you can put into your mouth.” My father plopped a large platter of barbecue onto the table in front of Derrick, who practically drooled as he stared at the burgers, chicken, steak, and sausage.

  “Oh. Wow.” He wadded up the napkin I’d given him and reached for a fork. After loading his plate with enough meat to make a healthy carnivore swoon, he nodded and smiled at me before heading to the far side of the room to join the other guys.

  Seconds later, the other bridesmaids joined me at the table, with Tyler tagging along behind them.

  “Wow, Derrick talked to you.” Cassie giggled. “Lucky duck.”

  I shrugged, still not understanding the swooning going on with the other girls. “Yeah. He seems really friendly. Normal.”

  “Trust me, there’s nothing normal about Derrick Richardson.” Sienna giggled. “Nothing at all.”

  “True. He’s way out of my league.” Brianna sighed and scooped some dip onto her plate.

  “Not sure what we did to land him in this wedding party, but I could pinch myself. I get to walk down the aisle with him at the end of the ceremony!” Sienna pulled out her cell phone and snapped a photo of Derrick. From a distance, of course. Without his knowledge.

  Crystal walked up, her eyes narrowing to slits as she glared at her best friend. “Don’t you dare post that, Sienna. We need to give Derrick some privacy. He’s just a normal guy, you know.”

  “So that’s what normal looks like.” Tyler looked up from his plate of tortilla chips and sighed. “Bummer.” He stuck a chip into his mouth and walked away from the group, muttering something about how he’d never really wanted to be normal anyway.

  Crystal gave us all a warning look. “I want you to treat Derrick the way you’d treat any of the other guys. Okay?”

  As I nodded along with the others, my heart did that strange fluttering thing again. Try as I might, I couldn’t really think about anything except the twinkle in Derrick Richardson’s eyes as he’d stolen the spoon away from me. Treating him like any of the guys . . . well, that might be a little harder than I wanted to admit.

  I spent the next three weeks waiting for Crystal to come to her senses and ask me to help with the wedding. I could tell she was stressed, and it broke my heart. Finally, I could wait no longer. I would offer my services and pray she accepted.

  “I hope you don’t mind, Crystal, but I’ve done some research on the web. Wedding planning basics, that sort of thing.”

  “You have?” A look of sheer relief passed over her face. Oh, good.

  “Sure. I know this wedding means a lot to you, and I want it to be perfect. So I put my research into a spreadsheet. Everything from the bridal shower to wedding guest list protocol—that kind of stuff. And Cassie and the other girls want to help too. Even Grandma Nellie, but you might not like some of her ideas. One of them involved a piñata.”

  That got a smile out of Crystal. For a minute, anyway. “I’ve been so overwhelmed. I mean, Mrs. Frazier at the church is technically supposed to be my wedding coordinator, but she’s so busy right now. Her daughter just had a baby.”

  “Right. I heard. A girl.”

  “Yes, but even when she’s not distracted, we didn’t quite agree at our first meeting. Her ideas are a little . . . outdated. I haven’t decided how to handle that. And I’ve been so worried about things not getting done. We’ve only got three months left, you know? There’s just so much to do. Almost nothing’s been taken care of yet.”

  “Yes, it has.” I laid my spreadsheet on the kitchen table in front of her. “I’ve put together a plan by date. Everything is listed in order, so you don’t have to get overwhelmed. It’s kind of a step-by-step process.”

  Crystal looked over my spreadsheet, and then looked at me. “Mari, what would I do without you? I mean, I’ve done what I could, and so has Phillip. We purchased some invitations we found online, but . . . ever since their engagement party for us, Mrs. Havenhurst has been asking questions—”

  “What other things are left undone?” I glanced at my spreadsheet, spurred on by that revelation. “Be specific, so I can make sure they’re covered on the spreadsheet.”

  “Well, things Sienna’s supposed to be doing, for instance.”

  “Ah.” I cringed as I heard the infamous maid of honor’s name.

  My sister sighed. “I mean, usually the maid of honor helps plan the bridal shower, but I talked to Sienna this morning and she seems a little, I don’t know . . .”

  “Out of it?”

  “Yeah. Maybe I’ve asked too much of her. She’s not terribly focused.”

  I reached for an apple from the fruit bowl in the center of the table and rolled it around in my palm. “Crystal, I hate to say this, but Sienna’s never been focused.”

  She nodded. “Right. I guess I just thought she would take this wedding more seriously. I mean, a bride pictures her maid of honor being really excited. But Sienna’s a little . . .”

  “Disengaged?”

  “Yeah.” My sister’s eyes took on a faraway look. Just as quickly, she snapped to attention. “Anyway, she’ll pull it together. I know she will. It’s only the middle of February, after all. We have until the middle of May. And to her credit, Sienna is going with me to look at flowers. Her aunt Catherine is a florist.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “Yes, and I’m grateful. Her aunt is even giving me a discount. So I shouldn’t be complaining. It just helps so much to know you’re taking such an interest, and you’re organized to boot.” Crystal glanced back down at my spreadsheet. “You have no idea how much better I feel, just looking at this. It makes everything seem . . . doable.”

  “I love this kind of thing. And remember, I’m only working thirty hours a week at the bank right now and my
schedule is pretty flexible.” I took a bite of the apple and leaned back in my chair. For the first time since the conversation began, I noticed a hopeful look in Crystal’s eyes.

  “We are getting one thing done today. Are you busy this afternoon at four? Phillip and I have a cake tasting appointment set up at the bakery. We want to get more opinions than just ours. I mean, it’s the guests and wedding party who actually eat the cake. The bride and groom are so busy at the reception, they barely get a nibble. Sienna and Derrick were supposed to come with us, but she’s tied up at work and can’t come.”

  “He’s still coming?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does Sienna know Derrick is going to be there?”

  Crystal shook her head. “I don’t remember if I told her that.”

  “Well, that’s one way to get her to show up. Just saying.”

  “I guess. But she’s not responding to my texts, so maybe I shouldn’t bother, especially if you’re willing. I’d love to have you there, Mari. If you’re free, I mean.”

  “I’m free, and I’d love to go. I’m crazy about cake.” And while I didn’t share the same hero worship as the other girls, I didn’t mind the fact that Derrick planned to be there. Not one bit.

  At four o’clock that afternoon, after working several hours at the bank, I sat at a table across from a very nice woman at Crème de la Crème, Houston’s most celebrated cake shop. Crystal, Phillip, and I chatted with the sales rep—if that’s what one called a cake salesperson—until Derrick arrived. He rushed through the door, pulled off his sunglasses, and squinted, as if waiting for his eyes to adjust to the change in lighting.

  Standing there, with the shimmer of sunlight beaming through the glass door behind him, Derrick looked a bit like one of those old church paintings of the apostles. He had a heavenly glow about him. Fascinating.