Always the Designer, Never the Bride

by Sandra D. Bricker

  "J. R., are you sure you can't stay until after Devon reports to the base?"

  "I'm sorry, Carly. This is a big job, and I need it."

  He tried to resist the bitter taste of resentment building in the back of his throat. Didn't she know he would stay if he could? Any time Devon needed him, J. R. had always tried to be there. This kind of thing just cemented his drive to hit the open road and stay out there. The expectations of a significant other—or the wife of a significant brother!—could choke the life out of a guy's independence.

  "Sweetie, stop nagging him."

  Thank you.

  "I'm not nagging, baby. I'm just—"

  "We know what you're just. Give him a break now, all right?"

  Carly flipped her hand and sighed before turning away and stalking out of the kitchen.

  "Sorry, bro."

  "Nah," J. R. replied, smacking his brother's shoulder. "She's just under the delusion that you'd benefit from me hanging around a little longer."

  "Oh, that's no delusion," he remarked as he stared out the window.

  "Dev, this job in Austin is—"

  "I get it," he interrupted, and he turned back to look J. R. directly in the eye. "I get it. This is work, and you've got to follow it. It's just that, in general, I wish you would park it back in Atlanta for a while. It would be a huge relief to know Carly had someone looking after her while I'm gone. Not to mention when I get back, we could spend a little time together. Real time. Not this passing through town twice a year."

  J. R. kept the volcanic groan that was building inside to himself.

  "Look," Devon said with a sigh, "it's not like I don't already know this about you. Dad felt just like you do, and you're cut from the same cloth."

  The two of them made a good pair. Carly made the cut, and Devon rubbed the salt into the wound.

  "What a thing to say."

  "I don't mean you're like him, J. R. Just in that wandering gene. I remember one time when he came back after one of those long disappearances, and he sat us down on that stone wall behind the house. You remember?"

  J. R. nodded. "He said every time he tried to light for a while, things turned to garbage."

  "Yeah, like he was some kind of computer and had to reboot on a regular basis so he could work up the gumption to stand being around us for a while."

  "Dev. It's not like that with me. Not once have I thought I couldn't stand to be around you."

  Devon smirked. "Yeah, I know."

  "Do you really?"

  His expression melted slightly. "I guess."

  "I'm not a nine-to-fiver, Dev. This is what I do. I travel. I move from place to place. It's who I am. It has nothing to do with working up the gumption to be around you for any length of time."

  "I get it, man. But what happens when you meet someone?"

  "What do you mean? I meet people all the time."

  "No. I mean, when you meet somebody special. Somebody you might want to settle down with. You're gonna, what—put her on the back of your bike and hit the road every few weeks? Who is the woman who would want that, bro?"

  J. R. sensed the irritation growing. "I'm not looking for anyone, Dev. Maybe down the road."

  "Well, that's the thing, J. R. A guy rarely comes across her when he's actually looking. She usually crosses the road right in front of him while he's on his way someplace else."

  He sighed. "I'll keep an eye out then because," and he pointed at the door with his thumb, "I'm on my way someplace else right now. So stand down, soldier, and give your brother some love."

  Devon stepped into J. R.'s open arms, tugging him into an embrace.

  "Watch yourself over there," J. R. told him. "And no matter what else you do, do NOT get yourself shot . . . or hurt. Do you hear me?"

  "Sir, yessir," he replied softly.

  He pulled Devon into another hug and smacked him on the back. "Love you, man."

  "Me too," Devon answered.

  Audrey found herself wishing Carly had been able to join them as she and Kat strolled up the sidewalk to Sherilyn's house. She wasn't sure how much fun a "slumber party" was going to be when she barely knew anyone in attendance besides Kat. It seemed only fitting that, with Carly living in the next town over, a recapture-your-youth slumber party should be attended alongside the girl with whom she'd shared so many of them during their actual youths.

  "This is going to be fun," Kat exclaimed, and the front door whooshed open.

  Two unidentifiable women stood before them with hair slicked back from their terrifying faces. One of them opened her turquoise eyes wide as she peered at them from behind a neon green mask and said, "Finally! We thought you'd never get here."

  Audrey recognized the timber of her voice and grinned at Sherilyn. "That's a new look for you, isn't it?"

  "What do you think?" Emma asked from behind her own bright purple mask. "It's working for us, right?"

  Audrey and Kat followed their lead into the sprawling family room where twin-sized air mattresses filled the largest part of the room like puzzle pieces set into perfect place. That huge dog of theirs—she thought she remembered his name to be Henry—lounged on the sofa next to Jackson's sister Norma, her bright green, wide-eyed greeting a perfect match to Sherilyn's. Fee's starker-white-than-usual face stared at them from the kitchen.

  "What's your pleasure?" Fee asked, setting several thick plastic tubes on the counter before them. "The white is coconut milk for dry skin. The purple is lavender, for sensitive skin. And the green is mint julep," she added, grabbing the tube and reading the side of it, "for tired skin in need of refreshment."

  "I want the purple," Kat said, snatching up the tube.

  "Wait. Grab a headband from the basket," Fee directed her.

  "There's a mirror and some makeup remover on the table over there," Emma added, and she followed Kat toward it.

  "I guess I'll go for the green," Audrey said with a shrug. "I could use some refreshing."

  And fifteen minutes later, the six of them (plus Henry) formed a colorful and jagged little circle in the center of the room, several snack bowls between them, and cans of soda placed in foam holders on the coffee table. Emma held one of the bowls with one arm like a basketball while she picked M&Ms out of the popcorn and peanuts and placed each of them on Sherilyn's knee. The moment a mound formed, Sherilyn scooped up the candies and popped them into her mouth while she waited for the next rejects to reach her.

  "This reminds me so much of the slumber parties Carly and I used to have," Audrey shared with them.

  "I wish she could have come," Sherilyn commented.

  "My granny used to make pizza for us. They were way better than anything we could have ordered. And afterward, we'd make gooey pretzels."

  "Gooey pretzels!" Kat chuckled. "That doesn't sound too appetizing."

  "You have no idea!" she exclaimed. "They were the best. A slumber party tradition."

  "Sweet, right?" Emma chimed in, her face twisted into a mop of disappointment and amusement.

  "Of course," Audrey said with a tilt of her head.

  "Of course."

  "How did you make them?" Norma asked.

  "You take pretzel sticks, the thick ones. And you dip them in chocolate and roll them in toppings."

  "Like chocolate sprinkles?" Sherilyn asked, excited. "I could totally get behind that!"

  "Sprinkles. Or coconut. Or chopped up nuts. Whatever you like."

  "I nominate Audrey to bring the gooeys for our next slumber party!" Norma cried.

  "I second that," Emma said.

  "Done deal," Fee announced. "Gooeys it is!"

  "We usually have a bigger group than this," Sherilyn said over a mouth full of chocolate candies. "But Pearl had to fill in for someone, and Susannah and Madeline had a charity thing." She looked to Emma and asked, "Is that what Georgiann is doing too?"

  Emma and Norma exchanged glances before they both cracked up.

  "What?" Sherilyn urged.

  "George is over sleeping
on an air mattress," Norma revealed. "She's not coming anymore."

  "But she might stop by for breakfast," Emma added.

  "Ohhhh, no!" Sherilyn cried. "There's no eggs and bacon without some slumber party shakin'!"

  With that, she hopped to her feet and flicked on the stereo. In bare feet, she slid across the floor to the first few notes, just like Tom Cruise in Risky Business.

  "It's Seger time!" Sherilyn called out, and she began doing her version of the Twist to "Old Time Rock & Roll." "C'mon, ladies!"

  Emma filled her mouth with popcorn and peanuts before getting to her feet. "She's a Seger freak," she said to Audrey. "But it's her house, so we indulge her."

  Sherilyn grabbed Emma's hand, and the two of them morphed into a strange and sort of spastic jitterbug. Norma popped up and joined in with a comical Watusi while Fee surrendered to an uninspired version of The Freddy.

  "Come on, you two," Sherilyn said, tugging on Audrey's arm. "Show us whatcha got."

  One corner of her mouth lifted in a tilt of a smile, and Kat beamed at her. Before you could say, "Today's music ain't got the same soul," Audrey and Kat were doing The Jerk.

  Audrey tiptoed down the hall from the bathroom and stood at the edge of the family room, suppressing laughter as she surveyed the damage from the night before. Empty soda cans and water bottles and near-empty bowls littered the coffee table and the floor beside the couch where Sherilyn laid sprawled out, obviously ousted from the comfy sofa by the massive dog now sleeping there with his head on what was once her pillow.

  Rumbling snores emanated from someone, and Audrey moved a little closer to discover that it was Norma. Fee lay flat on her back, her arms folded across her chest like a corpse, while Emma, curled into a semi-circle with her oversized Falcons jersey bunched up around her waist, occupied the mattress beside her. Face-down, Kat's arms and legs all extended into four different directions.

  What a group, she thought, turning toward the kitchen, and she jumped when Andy unexpectedly appeared right in front of her. Henry flew from the sofa in an arch over Sherilyn and raced to Andy's side.

  "Shh!" He grinned at Audrey as he scratched the dog's head. "Is my wife sleeping on the floor?"

  "In deference to your dog," she whispered. "You scared me. Have you been here all night?"

  He shook his head. "Spent the night at my mother's," he mouthed with only a breath of sound to accompany it. "Once a month, like clockwork. You ladies party, and I am fed like the prodigal son returned."

  Audrey chuckled. "I was going to make coffee."

  "I'll do it. I know where everything is."

  She grinned at him, climbing up on one of the counter stools as he stealthily moved about the kitchen.

  "Did you girls have a good time?" he asked.

  "I haven't had so much fun—or eaten so much junk!—since high school."

  Andy glanced at the pile of empty pizza boxes resting against the trash can and smiled. "Anchovies?" he asked.

  "Afraid so. On one of them."

  "My growing son or daughter appears to love anchovies," he told her with a shrug. "Which is odd because Sherilyn can't stand them."

  "All evidence to the contrary," she cracked, and Andy held back a laugh with a snort.

  One by one, he lined up individual K-cups of coffee on the counter. "I know who prefers what kind of coffee," he said, "with the exception of you and Kat. What's your pleasure?"

  Inspecting the cups, she asked, "What do you have?"

  He picked them up one at a time. "Decaf hazelnut for my wife. Crème brûlée for Emma Rae. Norma likes French roast. And Fee prefers extra bold." Pointing to a circular rack on the counter, he told her, "Sherilyn has every option known to man on there. It's like a portable Starbuck's."

  "Oooh, Chocolate Glazed Donut!" she exclaimed, and she covered her mouth with one hand. "Sorry. I was blinded from courtesy by the promise of chocolate."

  "It happens," he replied with a smile, and he took the small plastic container that she handed him and injected it into the machine behind him. He pushed a ceramic mug with a daisy emblazoned on it to the pedestal, pressed a button, and the brewed coffee began to spit into the cup. "Give it two minutes," he said. "I'm going to walk Henry before I get changed for work."

  She thanked him, and Andy patted his thigh one time before Henry appeared, leash in mouth, ready for his walk.

  Before the two of them returned, everyone was up and various coffees had been brewed. Emma and Sherilyn worked in the kitchen to get breakfast started while Fee and Kat set the large dining table, and Audrey sat at the counter with Norma.

  "Jackson tells me you're working with Curtis Gibson's daughter on her wedding gown," Norma said as she sipped her French roast.

  "Yes. I'm so grateful to him for making the connection between us."

  "Lisette is a beautiful girl, isn't she?"

  "Mm," Audrey nodded. "She really is."

  "What are the challenges of creating something for her, in relation to a smaller woman? Is it very different?"

  "It's different," she replied, accepting her awaited chocolate coffee from Sherilyn. "But I think it's going to be fun. We came up with a design that she loves, and she's going to look beautiful in it."

  At first sip, Audrey closed her eyes and moaned softly.

  "What kind?" Norma asked.

  "Chocolate glazed donut," Sherilyn answered for her.

  "Ohhh, that sounds tasty."

  Audrey moaned again, this time more loudly. "It is."

  "Audrey's design is stunning," Kat chimed in as she joined them at the counter. "It's this awesome fitted top with an asymmetrical ruffled strap, and the skirt is flared with beautiful beadwork and crystals."

  "That sounds beautiful," Norma said. "I can't wait to see it when she walks down the aisle."

  "Will you be there?"

  "Oh, yes. Curtis and his wife are good friends to us. I've known Lisette since she was knee-high to a grasshopper."

  Norma didn't possess the same deep southern drawl that her other sisters maintained, but Audrey spotted the twang in that last statement.

  "When Jackson first told me about them, he said Curtis was an electrician."

  Norma chuckled. "That sounds just like Jack."

  "Then Lisette told us about her wedding plans," Kat added. "We were like, 'Isn't your dad an electrician?'"

  "You wouldn't know it to meet him, but Curtis is quite a force in the business world. He's built that company from the ground up. It's going public next month, you know."

  "What does that mean?" Kat asked.

  "It means people can buy Gibson Light and Magic stock," Emma explained. "Like Microsoft."

  "Will it be expensive?"

  "I'd suggest buying quick and holding," Norma told her with a smile.

  "You know, I had no real desire to break away from working to go to a grown-up slumber party," Audrey said with a laugh as she and Kat climbed the staircase toward the reception desk. "But I'm so glad I went. It was a great diversion. Those women are such a lot of fun."

  "Can you believe Sherilyn and those anchovies, though?" Kat exclaimed. "I've never seen anyone put them away like that."

  "It was kind of gross, actually."

  "I know!"

  The receptionist smiled as they approached her desk. "A delivery came for you a few minutes ago. I had them drop it in your work room."

  "That will be our body," Audrey told Kat. "Thanks very much."

  "Sure thing. Just let me know if you want in on the lunch order. We're getting Italian today, and I put a copy of the menu in there for you too."

  "Thanks, Billie."

  The moment they turned the corner, Audrey noticed that the door to their work room had been left open. Passing Monique's empty desk, she picked up the pace toward the end of the hall. She found Weston LaMont standing with one hand on his hip and the other scratching his chin as he gazed at the extra-large dress form before him.

  "What on earth is this?" he asked as Audrey and Kat
stepped in.

  "It's a dress form," Audrey replied dryly. "Being a designer, perhaps you've seen them before."

  "Not in this proportion."

  Audrey chuckled, and she patted the shoulder of the form several times as she rounded it. "I'm thinking of calling her Mac."

  "Mac!" he exclaimed.

  "After Elle MacPherson. The Body."

  "Well, it's a body all right. I would think the name Bertha is a better bet."

  Kat scowled at him as she dropped the load from her arms.

  "Who is your client?" he asked Audrey. "The Rock?"

  "All right," Audrey replied as she sank down into the chair behind the desk. "Try to be nice, will you?"

  "These are my offices," he said with a smirk. "I'm not required to be nice."

  "Couldn't you just try? Pretty please? A plus-sized bride is just like any other bride. She wants to look amazing, she wants the fairy tale. Her version is just . . . Rubenesque, that's all. There's just more to love."

  "Seriously, Audrey. Who is your client?"

  "Her name is Lisette, Wes. She's a plus-sized bride."

  "I see that." He circled the dress form, inspecting every inch. "Where did you ever find a dress form this gargantuan?"

  "Wes."

  "Really. It's very resourceful. I didn't even know they made them."

  "Kat found it."

  When he looked at her, Kat answered without emotion. "Craig's List."

  LaMont dragged a chair beside Audrey's desk and sat down. "Well, I have to see your design."

  She thought it over for a moment, and a quiver of anxiety tickled her stomach.

  "All right."

  Audrey slid the leather portfolio across the desk and tugged at the zipper. "Here's the one we decided on."

  LaMont scanned the page for nearly a full minute, a blank expression on his face. Audrey began to think that she had thumped down into a momentary world where the worst torture known to a designer had occurred: the thirty seconds where a fledgling waited for a response from a pro. If LaMont hated it, would the world hate it as well? If someone with his experience and expertise—

  "There's something here."

  "You think so?"