by Melissa Hill
Terri hated that he was right. If she had listened to Rachel’s protests that the two dresses should stay together, this would not have happened.
But Terri was determined not to have to cart the heavy bridesmaid dress around the airport with her, mostly because she knew she’d need quite a lot of liquid courage to calm her nerves, and didn't trust herself to guard it with her life — as Rachel did hers.
Ripples of frustration and damaged pride raged through her as she walked over to where her friend stood rigid.
“Okay. So this is not looking good.” Terri really couldn’t think of much else to say.
Rachel spun to look at her. Oddly enough, she was not seething mad and looked nowhere near close to shedding a tear. Instead, Terri thought she looked … determined.
Rachel spoke quietly as she returned to face the conveyor belt. “It will be here. I know it will. Just give it five more minutes.”
“But—” She held up her hand up to stop Terri from saying another word.
“Five. More. Minutes.” Rachel’s voice remained calm. She wasn't going anywhere.
Terri stood next to her, checking her phone for any missed messages from Justin or anything concerning the restaurant.
No news had to be good news, she assured herself.
In any case, she couldn’t imagine a crisis popping up today—at least not one more pressing than the current case of the missing dress.
13
The minutes ticked by. Still Rachel didn't move. In her head, she was saying prayers to every known higher power that the dress would appear, that it was simply loss in the shuffle, that some guardian angel working for the airline would discover it and place it on the belt.
Another half hour passed, and Gary excused himself to take a call from some unknown source.
Rachel didn’t care. She had spent the last hour of the flight arguing with him over his decision to go straight to bed when they arrived in the city, instead of going out celebrating at the same restaurant they'd been to the night he proposed. She’d arranged it as a surprise, and an attempt to get the pre-wedding excitement started.
“Sure go with Terri, can’t you?” he’d said, completely missing the point.
And as another long minute passed, Rachel was starting to feel her great vision for her dream New York wedding already slipping away.
With her chief bridesmaid currently yawning as she paced the tiles, waiting for a lost dress, and her fiancé showing little enthusiasm for the whole endeavour, (in truth he seemed bored) things certainly weren't getting off to the best start.
Terri could no longer stand the wait. Her head ached, her feet were tired, and her body was tired. And she was getting sick to the teeth of listening to the same taped security reminder announcements playing on a loop in the baggage area.
She just wanted to get to the hotel, order some room service, and knock herself out for the rest of the day. But by now, she knew that this evening was shaking up to be completely different from what she had planned.
When at last, Rachel turned silently and trudged off toward the baggage claim office, Terri could feel the frustration and disappointment radiating off her.
She only hoped and prayed that the woman waiting behind that counter was sympathetic to a frustrated bride, an already jet-lagged tired bridesmaid, and a missing in action fiancé.
“Excuse me,” Rachel’s voice had lost all of its usual honey sweetness and warmth. Instead, it had turned into something unusually fierce and tight. “You seem to have misplaced my friend’s garment bag. We’ve just arrived from Dublin on flight 4984. I would have thought it would be difficult to lose something like a garment bag containing a bridesmaid dress, but here we are. Could I ask you to please go back there and find it, as I’m getting married in two days time and we really need that dress.”
Terri was impressed. Rachel did not shout. She did not even raise her voice. Instead, she stared down the woman in the blue uniform as if she were lecturing a bold child.
Unfortunately for Rachel, the airline worker had seen many such cases and was largely unmoved by her wedding woes.
“I'm sorry to hear that Ma’am,” she replied, impassive. “However, there isn’t anything that I can personally do at this time.”
“That you can personally do? What does that even mean?” Rachel snapped suddenly and Terri’s eyes widened. Her friend rarely raised her voice like that — and to a complete stranger no less.
“Again, I'm sorry to hear that you are frustrated with our service, but I cannot do anything more but take your information. If and when your bag arrives—”
“If - if the bag arrives?” Rachel’s unblemished face had suddenly turned a particular shade of beet red.
The woman soldiered on, “We will call you as soon as possible and arrange a courier to bring it to you if you are located within 20 miles of the airport. Now I need the owner of the bag to fill out this contact form….”
Rachel took the clipboard from the woman and thrust it at Terri without her gaze leaving the airline rep. It was as if she was mentally urging the woman to be more sympathetic to their situation.
Terri rushed, scribbling down the contact information with Rachel’s assistance. When she finished, she thanked the woman, grabbed her friend by the arm and escorted her out of the office. That was all they could do for the time being.
Luckily, Gary was waiting for them outside.
“So…” he whispered, looking down at his brown leather shoes, “what did they say? Good news?”
Terri looked on as incredibly, Rachel smacked him on the arm with her wedding binder, as the three walked quickly to the taxi stand out front.
The wait for transportation wound all the way along the terminal building.
At least a hundred other weary travellers were waiting for their chance to hop in one of those bright yellow cabs that Terri had heard so much about.
Rachel had wanted to order a town car in advance, but apparently Gary would not hear of it, insisting that they were already going to enough expense with the wedding.
Terri tried not to listen as the two argued, thinking it all very ironic considering Gary’s previous experience with New York taxi cabs …
When twenty or so minutes later, their turn finally came, and Gary loaded their suitcases (minus the missing bag) into the back, Rachel returned to her binder. Quickly glancing at the driver’s clock, she ran her finger down a long, detailed schedule chart obviously made some time ago.
Muttering softly to herself, Terri watched as she used a pen to cross off more than a few items on the list.
Then, loud enough for Gary to hear as he rode in the front seat, she turned to Terri.
“Gary wants to snooze at the hotel tonight instead of joining me for a celebratory dinner at this lovely little spot in Little Italy. Fancy being my date instead?”
Terri’s heart sank. “Well … I had actually planned on just going straight to bed myself later. It’s been a long day and you know, try to get a head start on the jet-lag…”
“Nonsense. For one thing, you’ve been a night owl for as long as I’ve known you, so jet-lag shouldn't even be an issue for the few days you’re here. And two, you slept the whole flight over.” Rachel wouldn’t hear another word of protest and Terri realised that it wasn't so much an invitation but a plea.
Given the circumstances, how could she refuse? She could hardly go off and leave her friend on her own. But she cursed Gary for inadvertently landing her in a spot.
“Okay,” Rachel continued. “Next on the agenda for today, we’re supposed to check in at the hotel, and then meet Michelle. Forget the hotel, we should just go straight there. What time is it now?”
“5.30.” The cab driver spoke up. He seemed quite taken with Rachel and her brisk take-no-prisoners attitude.
Great, Terri thought. Now she had no choice but to be co-opted into the wedding administration side of things too.
By rights, it should just be the bride and groom submitt
ing to such a boring ordeal. She hoped it wouldn't take too long and that she might have at least some time to herself today, before heading out again to the restaurant with Rachel later.
As her friend mapped out the next leg of their journey, Terri took a moment to take in the surroundings. So far, she thought the place was all fairly generic, concrete motorways, boring old houses etc, and she didn't see what all the fuss was about, but then again they were only on the outskirts apparently.
“Terri, did you hear me?” Rachel tapped her on her shoulder, prompting Terri to sit straight up in her seat. “I’ve Michelle a text about the dress situation and that you’ll be coming along to the meeting. She’s thrilled and says she can’t wait to meet you.”
Terri suppressed a long sigh, wishing the feeling could be mutual.
14
“Welcome to New York!” Michelle Pierre gestured wildly, as a little later, Terri Rachel and Gary three walked through her white linen doors in downtown Manhattan.
It soon became very clear to Terri that this woman truly put the “management” in “micro.” She even dictated where each of the three should sit around her desk, with Rachel taking the middle seat and Gary and Terri surrounding her.
“I trust you got in to town okay, and hope that the Hotel Grand is exactly as you pictured it? It is one of my absolute favourites for my out of town clients.”
“Unfortunately we haven’t had the chance to check in yet, but I’m sure it’s wonderful,” Rachel enthused.
“Ah yes.” The woman sighed theatrically. “It seems we have some not-so-little problems to work out today.” Her gaze zeroed in on Terri. “Maid of honour—”
“Terri.” Terri couldn’t stand being referred to as a role and not a person.
“OK, Tereee.” Michelle nodded coldly in acknowledgement. “A missing bridesmaid dress is something you do not encounter every day. If you had purchased a seat for it of course, this would not have happened…. But as we have to deal with these emergencies, we must act fast. There's no guarantee that the airline will have the dress in time, so …” she clapped her hands together. “I have worked my magic, and arranged for you to meet Jonathan at his salon in the Garment District.”
“Fantastic. Thank you so much Michelle,” Rachel brightened immediately.
“Yes. He is waiting for you now, so do not delay.”
“Today?” Terri couldn't believe what she was hearing. Did this woman actually mean she had to go pick out another dress this very day, not tomorrow when they were more settled in?
“Why of course, today! Right now in fact,” Michelle looked down at her large gold wristwatch impatiently. “We are already running way behind schedule and the salon closes at seven. If we’re gonna get you fitted and an appropriate dress selected and altered, you will need to leave immediately.”
“And just how am I supposed to get to this place?” Terri replied, trying to ignore Rachel’s pleading glances.
“By subway would be best I would say. A cab in this traffic won't get you there in time at this hour. Therefore, I have taken the time and care to write down directions for you.” She removed a white card from her suit pocket and dramatically slid it across the white desk.
Terri looked at Rachel with tired eyes, but her best friend was nodding vigorously as if agreeing that yes, there was indeed no time to waste.
Never mind that Terri had barely set food on a New York pavement since they’d arrived, never mind have to navigate her way around the bloody subway!
Looked like she was about to become seriously acquainted with this city, whether she liked it or not.
Rachel watched with some sympathy as Terri shuffled out the door of Michelle Pierre’s office, directions in hand.
At one point, she turned dramatically to look back at her with pleading, terrified eyes. Rachel could not help but feel for her friend, and promised to keep in touch and make arrangements to meet up afterwards.
“It’ll be fine, honestly. Manhattan is actually very easy to get around. Just take a cab back when you’re finished.”
“Yes, the worst of rush hour will have cleared in a few hours,” interjected Michelle helpfully.
It was a pity that Terri had to rush off like that so soon after arrival, but arranging a replacement bridesmaid dress was an absolute must, especially when the airline had been so lacklustre.
Michelle coughed lightly, bringing Rachel’s attention back to the wedding plans. There was so much to do and what with their late arrival today, really only tomorrow to get everything finalised.
“So to today. We have flowers to discuss. They are certainly one of the most important aspects of your vision. And if not perfect or in line with that vision, it will surely detract from the majesty of your event.” Michelle emphasised the word “majesty” as if it would make a bigger impact on them.
For Rachel, it made sense.
Alongside her, Gary yawned, took out his mobile phone and studied the screen, an annoying tick of his that really bugged her. She couldn't stand it when people messed with their phones in the middle of a conversation; it was the same thing as picking up a newspaper and hiding your face with it, effectively shutting out and insulting your companions.
As she and Michelle discussed the merits of blue gerberas versus white lilies best suited to the overriding Tiffany blue theme, she tried to ignore her fiancé’s fidgeting, until suddenly he stood, rising to his feet like a shot.
“Ah, I have to go,” he mumbled. “It’s work. There’s a problem on site and I need to FaceTime Jack.”
“Now? But we’re in the middle of an important meeting, Gary,” Rachel couldn't believe it. What mucky building site could be more important than the final arrangements for the biggest day of their lives?
“Sure I know nothing at all about flowers. I’m happy with whatever makes you happy. And with Michelle, you’re in the best of hands.” He pointed to wedding planner as if she were sitting on a golden throne—both stroking the woman’s already inflated ego, and giving him even more leverage to make it out the door without trouble.
However, Rachel wouldn't be so easily mollified. She too stood and apologised to Michelle as she offered to walk her fiancé to the door.
As soon as they reached the doorway, Gary leaned down to kiss her cheek, but she grabbed his arm, bringing his face level with hers.
“What is going on?” she hissed, under her breath. “First dinner tonight and now you cannot even be bothered to stay for a quick meeting about our actual wedding?”
She guessed that this would be tedious for him, painful even, but he had little excuse.
She had done most if not all of the planning up to now, with the understanding that he be involved in the last minute details while here.
She’d thought he was disinterested beforehand because nothing was really tangible until they got on the ground. But clearly being here in New York, where they were about to pledge the rest of their lives to one another, made not a whit of difference…
“Love, nothing is going on. I just have to sort out this work thing. It’s a big project, and isn’t it better that these things happen now instead of on our honeymoon?” He gave her a quick kiss and headed for the elevator.
Rachel took a deep breath, and raked her fingers through her dark hair.
First, Terri was reluctant about being in New York at all, and then Gary wouldn't go to dinner, couldn’t even last through this meeting.
While she understood that not everyone would be as keen about transforming her fairytale New York wedding vision into a reality, she had hoped for more support.
She had hoped that someone would be there for her at such a momentous and important time in her life. The loss of her parents, especially her mother, seemed to loom large as the loneliness grew.
But she had no time to sulk today. She had flowers to pick, lighting options to go through, and menus to finalise.
She would deal with Gary later, and she could only pray that Terri, wherever she was going
, would return safe and sound and with a bigger and better replacement bridesmaid dress.
With this fruitless hope in her heart, Rachel turned back towards the wedding planner’s office, determined to have her dream wedding visualised.
15
Terri too was determined — to find Berkman’s Bridal Salon on her own. Despite being, as Rachel often said, “directionally challenged,” Terri was now focused and centred.
How hard could it be? she asked herself. It’s just a glorified dress shop in the middle of a city… one of the biggest cities in the world, mind you… where I know no one… have trouble telling north from south … and this woman’s handwriting is chicken scratch…
Panic set in as she continued to walk down one street to the next.
The directions that Michelle had so “generously” written down for her only gave her a vague sense of a subway she had to take, and what street to wind up on. Nowhere did it say how to get to the blasted subway station, which train she needed, and where to go when she got off.
It was a bad treasure hunt that Terri had no desire to play on a day like this. Especially considering her head was still pounding from a combination of travel weariness, sleeping pills, and alcohol consumption.
She slowed as she saw a street sign come up—a glimmer of hope. But no it was just a number. How the hell were people supposed to find their way around this place with only street numbers instead of names?
But her pace seemed to only enrage the locals, who clearly did not want to deal with lost tourists. They bumped into her one after another.
Women in heels clicked past her in frustration, while be-suited men attempted to avoid her pleading glances. If Terri had the nerve to ask one of these stylishly dressed but patently disinterested passers-by how to get anywhere, she most likely would not get very far.
That whole rude New Yorker stereotype was starting to make sense to her now. Making matters worse was the noise. The honking, the yelling, the police sirens, all filled her with anxiety as she took off on a near jog to find a side street to compose herself.