by Strong, Mimi
“Oh, Shayla.” I stared into her golden brown eyes, glowing like embers. “Shit! I forgot to buy you fancy cheese! When I was in San Francisco. I’m a terrible friend. I’m going to be a terrible wife.”
“I don’t care about cheese,” she said. “I care about you, because you’re not a terrible friend. You’re a great friend.”
“I’ll still be a terrible wife.”
“Probably,” she said, smirking. “But neither of us was the best at friends before we started hanging out. I remember calling you names because you wouldn’t go in the lake when it was full of tadpoles.”
“You were kind of a dick about it,” I said. “And when you were fourteen and hormonal, I thought it was over. I was pretty sure one of us might kill the other, but I hung in there.”
“We learned to be friends, together,” she said.
“I guess.”
“You’ll be a good wife. You’ll screw up plenty, but you’ll get the hang of it, eventually.”
Mitchell gave me a sweet smile of encouragement. “I think you’ll be amazing, right from day one, but I’m a better friend than Shayla.”
She laughed and pretended to push him over.
“Thanks for the pep talk, guys.”
Mitchell started jogging down the street. “Enough mush! We need to get fitted.”
Shayla grabbed my hand and tugged me toward our destination.
~
The dress designer, Nancy, had sent one of her own seamstresses up to do the final fitting and adjustments of the gown I chose. The woman was tall, thin, and familiar-looking. It turned out she was the sister of Gwendolyn, one of the assistants I’d met in LA. Her name was Ginnifer with a G.
“We’re ahead of schedule,” Ginnifer said. “Even if you’ve changed three sizes, we’ll be able to make the alterations, but by the look of you, you’re as perfect as the day you were first measured up.” She laughed. “Less than two weeks ago.”
Shayla and Mitchell went off with the other assistants, and I followed Ginnifer to the back room, so nobody else would see the dress ahead of time.
Everything appeared to be falling into place.
Standing next to me at the altar on Saturday would be Shayla, of course, and Mitchell. We’d already chosen a pale gray as our bridal party color, and Mitchell would look dashing in his gray suit with a pink tie. Shayla’s gray dress had a pink highlight across the bust. If I didn’t love my custom gown so much, I would have wanted to wear Shayla’s dress.
According to Vern, Dalton had expanded his side to include his cousin, Connor. His other attendant was his friend, Alexis. I hadn’t been a big fan of Alexis since she sold photos of me in my underwear to the tabloids, but she was like a sister to Dalton, so I would just try to get over bad first impressions. I had sprayed her with a garden hose on my front lawn, so we’d both done regrettable things.
“I love your curves,” Ginnifer said as I wriggled into the slip I’d be wearing under the dress.
I laughed. “Oh, please. You’re tall and slim, and you could probably model these gowns.”
She smiled and unzipped the bag for my dress. “I didn’t mean I envied you or don’t accept myself. Just that I admire every bride, in her beautiful pre-wedding glow. Bridal gowns are infused with magic, don’t you know? They allow us to see what’s always been there.”
“Oh.” I stared at my gown, flat from the bag.
“Do you see something?” she asked. “What do you think?”
“It looks flat,” I said. “Like it’s just waiting for some curves to fill it out.”
She beamed. “Exactly. Arms up. We’ll do the formal side first, the party side second.”
I raised my arms in the air and waited.
She took her time, moving slowly and deliberately, and then she gently swooshed the crinkling fabric over my head and smoothed it out.
With my eyes clenched shut, I waited as she fastened all the buttons at the back.
“May I?” She wiggled the clip holding my hair up in a messy bun.
“Sure.” I waited as she let down my hair and fixed it loosely around my bare shoulders.
“You can open your eyes now,” she said.
I hesitated.
If I opened my eyes and saw myself in the gown, I knew I would feel something. I didn’t know what that something would be, but it scared me. I was a cup about to overflow.
She whispered gentle encouragement, saying, “Open your eyes and see what your future husband will see.”
I opened my eyes.
The woman in front of me looked beautiful and confident. Her blue eyes sparkled. She still had plenty of fight, but she also looked ready to surrender.
No more holding back.
No more running away.
Just surrender.
~
After the fittings, Vern met with us to go over some things with the caterers. Everyone kept asking me how I felt about every little thing.
Did I want coconut flakes on the fruit skewers?
Yes, I thought I did, but when I agreed to the coconut flakes, I was informed that the chicken dish had coconut milk, so if a guest had allergies, that was two things they couldn’t eat, and was I okay with that?
When I said to leave the coconut flakes off the fruit skewers, I got a ten-minute demonstration of banana chunks turning various colors based on adjoining fruits.
I thought the whole point of hiring caterers was to have them take care of things for you. Was this their way of making me feel I was getting Dalton’s money worth?
I would have to report all this to him when he arrived in town the next day.
As I moved down the list of catering choices and other tasks, I made another list in my head, of things I needed to say to Dalton before the wedding.
After much soul-searching, and fighting back tears when I saw myself in my beautiful gown, I’d figured out a few things.
I’d always admired how Dalton was able to commit completely to a role. Even though he had won my heart at first by saying lines someone else had written, I could feel how much he meant the words.
Love doesn’t always translate into perfect little speeches. What matters most is what you do. Even though I’d run away from Dalton so many times, he never gave up on us.
Now things were going to change.
After always telling myself to keep my eyes open, I was ready to close them and take a leap of faith.
Dalton needed to know that I wasn’t going to run anymore. He didn’t need to chase me, because I was his.
I loved him.
He’d captured my heart, and I didn’t even care that our wedding had been rushed for publicity, or that he had someone else writing his vows, as long as he meant every word.
As soon as he arrived in town Friday, I would make good on my threat. I would run right into his arms, and we’d both find out what kind of man he was.
CHAPTER 39
Friday.
One more sleep.
Assuming I’d even be able to sleep.
Friday afternoon, I was hanging out with my best friends at home, anxiously awaiting Dalton’s arrival.
I was practicing throwing the bouquet to Shayla when I got a phone call from Vern.
Shayla and Mitchell sat quietly, picking up on my nervousness.
Vern asked me a series of questions about the catering, and whether my mother had gotten her shoes dyed to match, but I could tell he was leading up to something.
“Vern, just tell me the bad news already,” I said.
“Mr. Deangelo has been delayed on set and won’t be flying in tonight,” he said.
“Dalton’s not flying in tonight,” I told my friends.
Shayla seemed concerned, but Mitchell looked devastated. He adored Dalton to the point of babbling incoherently in his presence, and now he seemed even more upset than I was.
That made me feel even more uneasy.
Vern had a few more details, and said Dalton would have phoned me himself, but he was o
n location where they had bad cell phone reception.
“Don’t they have some sort of schedule?” I asked. “They’ve been doing this show for years. You’d think they’d be more organized.”
Vern chuckled on the other end of the call. “I guess you’ve got a few things to learn about the life of an actor’s wife. Don’t worry about the rest of the wedding party. Connor and Alexis are on their way now in a rental car.”
“That wet blanket Connor got to leave on time? But Dalton’s the star of the show. Why does he have to work late?”
“We’ll fly in first thing in the morning. Don’t worry.”
“When people tell me not to worry, it only makes me worry harder.”
He chuckled again, which made it difficult for me to take out my anger on Vern.
“Which dress did you choose?” he asked.
“It’s a surprise.”
“The one with the cupcakes on the bosom?”
I snorted. “Not likely. Dalton’s afraid of carbohydrates. I wouldn’t want him to run away screaming.”
“Hmm.”
I wanted to ask what Vern meant by that non-verbal response, but he said goodbye, excusing himself to drive back to the set in case Dalton needed anything.
I tucked the phone away with a pitiful sigh.
The three of us had been hanging out in the living room of the house, resting up for the big day and eating cut vegetables with dip in a last-minute attempt to be healthy before the big day and all the photos.
Shayla was comforting Mitchell, assuring him Dalton would be coming, and wouldn’t let us down.
Us.
Hah!
I shook my head at how crazy my life had become.
And then the front door of the house opened without warning, and Jake “Big Dick” Blake walked in, his cowboy boots thunking loudly on the floor.
“There’s my girl,” he said.
I jumped to my feet and introduced Dalton’s father to my friends, who invited him to join us.
Jake sunk into the sofa, cozily nestled between Shayla and Mitchell. I took a seat on the chair across from them and braced myself for extreme inappropriateness.
Mr. Blake smelled of booze and cologne, but he looked sober enough, and downright presentable, with most of his shirt buttons fastened.
He withdrew a small box from his pocket and held it out to me. “Sorry to crash your party, but I had to bring you something.”
Speechless, I took the simple brown gift box and lifted off the lid. Inside was a flower made of blue and gold sparkling cabochons.
“It’s just costume jewelry,” he said.
I took the broach out gently. “This belonged to Dalton’s mother?”
“Yes. From his great-grandmother. I don’t know if he’ll recognize the piece, but his mother and grandmother wore it on their wedding days.” He cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “If it doesn’t go with your dress, I understand.”
I blinked back my tears and assured him that of course the beautiful blue and gold flower would go with my dress.
The four of us looked back and forth at each other, savoring this special moment.
Then Jake turned to Shayla and said, “So, what’s your deal, pretty lady?”
~
I left the three of them to entertain each other and excused myself up to my room.
There was another piece of jewelry I hadn’t dealt with yet.
Still in its box, in the pocket of the rolled-up red and black flannel jacket Dalton had loaned me, was the ring he used for his proposal.
I hadn’t dared open the box, and every day I waited, the psychological barrier became greater. Everyone had been pestering me to see the ring, especially Kyle, since he was going to be the ring bearer, after all.
Loud laughter floated up from downstairs. This wedding was such a joyous occasion for everyone else, and I guess that’s why the ring scared me. What if, when I slipped it on my finger, I felt nothing? What if that moment gave me absolute clarity? What if it didn’t?
With shaking hands, I unrolled the jacket that had traveled with me to San Francisco and the winery resort. I pulled the square box from the pocket, and, bracing myself for the worst, opened the lid.
I yanked open the box for my engagement ring from Dalton.
Inside, nestled in navy-blue velvet, was a bright green ring. Made of plastic.
“Fuck me with a box of fucks.”
I yanked the ring from the indentation.
My eyes weren’t playing tricks on me. It really was made of green plastic.
Attached to the back by a cheap-looking string was a note the size of a fortune from a fortune cookie.
The note read: IOU one gold ring with a BFD.
I stared at the green, plastic ring and tried to figure out who knew about the box I’d kept hidden in the jacket. Had Shayla organized a pre-wedding prank to pay me back for all those times I put the milk carton back in the fridge empty?
No, this was too strange, even for her.
This was all Dalton. He’d been so sure that I hadn’t opened the box, and this was why.
I pulled out my phone and called his number, ready to leave him the Voicemail of Doom.
“Peaches?” he answered.
“Dalton? I thought you didn’t have phone reception.”
“I don’t. My phone just suddenly rang. I guess it’s the height. I’m up on the crane for a special shot we’re doing. I’m falling through the sky, into the forest.”
“But it’s daytime.”
“Connor gave me a potion.”
“Oh. Of course.” As I imagined him strapped into a harness, filming, I felt silly about ripping into him over a joke ring.
He said, “Are you still there? The reception’s not very good. I’m gonna lose you.” He laughed. “Peaches, hang in there! I’m not gonna lose you!”
“Stop joking around. This is serious. Why did you give me a plastic ring and what the hell does BFD mean?”
“BFD? Big Fucking Diamond.”
“Oh.”
“I’m so disappointed,” he said, sounding down. “I thought you’d understand everything as soon as you saw the ring.”
I pulled out the ring and slipped it on my finger. In a flash, the memory came back to me.
Dalton had just rescued me and Mitchell, while we were running from a crazy security guard. Dalton drove us to a park, where we stopped the car for Mitchell to be sick.
Mitchell got out of the car and barfed up booze and pool water, plus the green plastic ring, which had come from the vending machine, the night before. Mitchell had used the ring to propose to me, before swallowing it.
I stared at the ring on my finger.
“This ring was in Mitchell’s stomach,” I said.
Dalton laughed. “I gave it a good cleaning.”
“You are SO weird! Why? Why would you propose to me with this ring?”
“Because you’d already said yes once. I thought it was good luck. Mitchell thought it was a great idea. If you’re not happy, take it up with him.”
Dalton said something else I couldn’t make out, probably to someone there with him on the crane.
Damn it! Why couldn’t he have just finished work on time and been where he was supposed to be?
“Dalton, I need to tell you some things.” I held the phone to my ear with my shoulder as I fidgeted with the green ring on my finger. It actually did fit perfectly.
He said, “Hurry up, because we’ve got to take this shot soon. Everyone’s waiting.”
“Dalton, let them wait. I need to tell you that I love you.”
He didn’t say anything.
“Are you still there? Don’t fucking tell me I lost reception.”
“I’m here,” he said.
My heart crushed with each second he wasn’t saying it back to me, but I wasn’t giving up yet.
“Dalton, I felt bad leaving you at the resort last weekend, but there’s something you don’t know about me.
That cute little boy you met, Kyle, he’s not my brother. He’s my son, and you don’t have to be his dad or anything, because he has the world’s greatest dad already. But you need to know that if he’s ever sick or needs me, I have to run to his side. I want to love you as much as I love him, but I can’t guarantee that you’ll ever take the number one spot. I do love you, though.”
“Peaches…”
“So this is me, running into your arms. You’ve caught me. I’m wearing your green, plastic ring on my finger, and I know you can’t see me, but I really am. I’m crying and smiling at the same time, because my heart is breaking, but I think it’s breaking right open to let you in.”
He didn’t answer.
I pulled the phone away from my ear slowly.
The icon was red, showing the call had ended. He was gone.
“And there we have it,” I said to my empty room, like a crazy person.
CHAPTER 40
Nobody answered. My phone remained silent, the screen turned black.
“Peaches has laid her heart out,” I said in my announcer voice. “Will Dalton return her love? Or will he continue to play mind games with her until the end of time? Does Peaches regret not going to Italy to be with Keith Raven? Yes, she kinda does.”
Someone knocked on my bedroom door. “Are you on the phone?” Shayla asked.
“Nope. Just talking to myself. Come on in.”
Shayla came in, an exaggerated smile on her face. “Peaches,” she breathed. “What do you think about me being in… movies? Jake says he wants to make me a star.”
I shrugged. “Whatever you want to do, I’ll support you completely.”
She frowned. “Fuck. I was hoping to get a rise out of you. Are you okay? Feeling nervous about the big day?”
I looked at the watch on my wrist—the beautiful watch Dalton bought me in San Francisco. Had it only been two weeks ago? I was so mixed up, I couldn’t even figure out the time from the watch face. I had to look over at my digital alarm clock to figure out it was half past two.
“It’s two-thirty,” I said. “I’m planning to hold off a few hours before I start freaking out.”
“This time tomorrow you will be drinking mimosas with me. And then, another six hours later, you’ll be married,” Shayla said.