Forever & A Day

by Donalyn Maurer

  “It’s not just missing my grandpa. It’s more than that. It’s also you.” Max’s expression becomes confused. “Some say the material things aren’t important in weddings. It’s the love behind the vows. This is true. I know it. We have the love, but…” I hesitate, and he brings his hands to a rest on my bare thighs, his thumbs unconsciously stroking my skin, soothing me, but it also encourages me to go on. “But, for me, the dress is the most important thing, even though it’s considered a material possession.” His hands convulse, and he begins to speak, but I place a gentle finger on his lips. “I know you’re going to disagree, but the dress is the most important of all my choices.” I release my finger from hushing him, and run it along his lips. He takes my cue and stays silent. After a moment of being lost in his beauty, I gather myself and go on. “The cake is for everyone else. The food is for everyone else. The DJ, the dance floor, that’s for everyone else.” I pull in a deep breath, then lean forward like I’m telling him the secret of all secrets. “The dress? Well, the dress is not for everyone. The dress is for you. It’s for you and only you. It has to be perfect for the day I become your wife. Everything I’ve seen just isn’t perfect enough for you,” I confess. His eyes become hooded, he slides his hands up my body until they rest on my shoulders.

  “You know anything you wear will be perfect,” he assures me, and yanks me down for a hard, wet kiss. After a few moments, and because we both need air, we break the kiss and I sit back up.

  “When I use to go with my brothers to watch you play football, I was secretly planning our wedding day,” I disclose, and his eyes widen in surprise. I give him a shy smile while tracing circles along his t-shirt covered chest. “When I wasn’t dreaming about you at night, I was daydreaming about you. Just like Grandpa shaking your hand and giving you his permission to marry me and I regret, so much, that he’s not here.” I briefly frown before going on. “In my dreams, the dress…” I trail off and smile my excited smile, before I continue. “In my dreams, I was a princess in a fairytale–our fairytale. I would walk down the aisle to you, sparkling like a thousand tiny candles, in a beautiful gown to meet my prince.” I blush a little as I share my secret dream with him. In a blink his hands are in my hair and he’s pulling my lips to his, again. His kiss is intense, almost brutal.

  “You never told me this before,” he accuses when breaks our kiss. He growls, then his lips are on mine again. When our lips finally part, I lay my head down on his chest and attempt to calm my rapid heartbeat. This kiss was like no other we’ve shared. I settle to the feel of his chest rising and falling against my cheek. The racing beat of his heart, matching my own, reminds me he is real, and this is real. We are real, and I need to find a dress.

  “I’ll find it today, Max,” I whisper. I run my hands up his chest to his shoulders, before lifting up to gaze at him. I want him to see the determination in my eyes. “I promise.”

  “I think you need to get on it, like now, don’t you?” he asks as he stands effortlessly with me in his arms. “Finish your coffee and toast, then get dressed.” I lick my bottom lip, because me, in Max’s arms like this, I can’t help it. I want him, and he knows because he takes in a deep breath, then slowly releases it before placing me on my feet while shaking his head. “I’m going to see what Nick and Abigail are doing. If I stay in here any longer with you in that towel, in my arms, after you just admitted you’ve been dreaming of our wedding day since we were teenagers, I’ll end up ripping that towel off of you and we’ll never get out of here.” I moan, because that sounds like a great plan. “Find your dress, then I’ll keep you in that bed for as long as you want,” he vows.

  Nothing more is said as he leaves the room. I hurry and throw on some makeup, and dry my hair, before slipping on a summer dress, silver hoop earrings, some thick bangles on my wrist, then grab my sandals, all while finishing my toast and coffee, noting the aspirin has done the trick. Other than small ache in my head, I feel fine. When I’m done, I grab my cup and plate, then walk down the hallway and turn right, to head across the landing that overlooks the downstairs foyer. Three more bedrooms and an extra bathroom, run along the open landing with a gorgeous railing. Anyone who walks along it, has an open view of the downstairs.

  Like every time I reach this point, I take a moment to admire our beautiful curved staircase. My dad really outdid himself when he designed our home. Now at first, when I saw the extravagance he was adding, I protested. He didn’t ask us to up the budget either, so everything he did was on his dime. I know McGinty Construction does well, but didn’t realize how well. That day he grumbled, Baby girl, I got this. Let me do this for you and Max. Please, don’t worry, I stopped complaining. I think Dad is attempting to pay a penance he doesn’t owe though, so I spoke to Grandma about it and she insisted that I let him be. Honey, your dad can afford to build each of his children a fancy home, and still not miss a meal or make a dent in his pocket. Stone doesn’t flaunt what he has, and neither does Violet, but if they wanted to, they could, Grandma told me. All three of my sons are extremely successful. I’m very proud of them, she smiled and winked.

  The stairs, banister, and spindles are made of a deep rich wood, and it flows down to our beautiful open foyer where our front door sits. The door is just as beautiful. The wood is stained dark, and long windows run down the front, with a curved steel design embedded within the glass. As beautiful as the door is, you don’t see it, because the one thing I had to have was a porch door, and sadly it hides the beauty and can only be admired from the inside. The porch door is Georgian style and painted black to match the trim of our home, which offsets the white rock beautifully. Almost the same goes for our back door. The door is a beautiful white, with the top being thick double paned glass, and the screen door is rustic wood with a Texas star embedded in the bottom panel. Uncle Duke had me pick them out as a housewarming presents. On the right of the foyer is our formal dining room, and on the left, is our formal living area. All the walls are painted a cool gray, but the trim is a dove white. The bottom floor, covered in the same deep wood, has an open concept. There are no doors, and not many walls separate the rooms. Large curved arches are the only thing that signals the beginning and ending of a room. You can walk in a complete circle throughout the bottom floor.

  When I reach the bottom step, I smile and take in a deep breath. All the windows are open, allowing a rare cool summer breeze to blow softly through the house, causing my long white lacy curtains to billow across the furniture like a soft caress. Max knows I love to open the windows when the weather is nice, so we can feel the breeze. When I reach the kitchen, no one is there, so I quickly rinse my cup and plate, then place them onto the dishwasher rack so I can go in search of them. As I shut the dishwasher door, I distantly hear the soft hum of car engines as they begin to crunch along our semi-paved and gravel drive. I walk through the dining room, into the foyer and push open the porch door, and glance around. Abigail is relaxing in one of the rocking chairs Bradley and Connor gave us when we moved in.

  “They’re here,” she says, and glances at me with a smile. I catch a glimpse of my grandma’s dark blue Cadillac and Aunt Paige’s silver SUV when they pass through a field of Live Oaks. After they park, doors open, and I’m met with Grandma, Aunt Paige and Savannah, Violet, Ana and Callie, and they’re all smiling, just like me and Abigail.

  “You two ready to go?” Aunt Savannah calls out.

  “Yes ma’am. Just need to grab my purse,” I respond and start back inside the house. “Where are Max and Nick?” I ask Abigail as she follows me to get her purse too.

  “The garage. They’re talking bikes. Nick is interested in a motorcycle now. He likes Blue’s, so I think they plan to take a trip to the Harley dealership while we’re gone,” she shares.

  “Wow. It would be so cool for us to ride together!” I exclaim.

  “I know.” We exchange a grin, then walk back out on the porch. I’m just about to tell them I’m going to walk to the garage and say goodbye to Max,
when he and Nick come around the side of the house and Max walks up the steps to where I am.

  “Saw them pulling up the drive from the garage,” he tells me and waves at them, which they return. Nick has walked over to say hello to everyone.

  We have two garages, another perk Dad added. With the acreage we have, he said we’d need a riding lawn mower, so he designed a barn like garage. Max stores his bike and tools in there. Attached to the rear of the house, is a second garage. You can’t see it from the street, and I love that. The door is remote controlled, another must my dad insisted was for our safety. The inner garage door leads to our laundry room, and Dad didn’t stop there. Every single door and window in the house is wired with a state-of-the-art home alarm system. Knowing Daniel is still on the hunt for the bad guys, I didn’t even argue. I never want to go through a repeat of what happened the day Sheriff Cullens was shot in the back while all I could do was watch helplessly. I shudder, remembering the bad man telling me he wanted Callie.

  “You heading out?” Max asks, snapping me back to the now.

  “Yes. You?” I ask.

  “We’re going to run up to the Harley dealership, but otherwise we’re just going to hang out here. Go find your dress. I’ll be here waiting.” He leans down and gives me a quick kiss.

  “Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.” I smile and walk down the steps, along with Abigail who’s just shared a goodbye with Nick as he walks up the porch steps and stands next to Max. We both get in my grandma’s backseat, with Aunt Savannah riding up front, and head off to the first stop of probably many.

  2

  The first two stops are a bust. I must have tried on a dozen dresses so far, but none have stuck out for me. Grandma, Violet, my aunts, Ana, and Abigail didn’t seem too impressed by any of them either. Each time I stepped onto the dressing room platform, we awed about the beauty of the dress, but nothing more.

  “Thought we could check out Marceline’s Boutique. It’s on the list of stops,” Aunt Savannah suggests. “Why we haven’t gone before now, I don’t know. Allie had such good luck there. I phoned Marceline this morning, and she told me she has a few new dresses in,” she informs me.

  “Sounds perfect to me,” I respond. Suddenly, I fill with anticipation, and I can’t seem to sit still. Grandma notices my restlessness, and grins at me through her rearview mirror. She then leans forward and turns on her stereo. As Lady Antebellum’s, You Look Good, fills the car, I’m distracted from being anxious. Abigail and I, being our dorky selves, sing along to the lyrics while we point at each other and dance around in the back seat. When I notice Grandma turn into the parking lot of the boutique, I still. The music stops as she puts the car in park and turns it off. I send up a quick and silent prayer that I find my dress here today. I glance out the car window and observe Aunt Paige pull in next to us. She parks, and out she steps with Ana, Aunt Paige and Violet, who’s undone Callie from her car seat and is setting her down on the ground.

  Callie has sprouted up so much. She’s tall like her brothers, but her hair is much lighter than theirs. It’s a brilliant blonde with long soft curls, just like her birth mom’s, Sasha Rollins. That was the one thing I noticed about Sasha, when I saw her at Cole’s funeral, her beautiful hair. Callie’s little button nose, dimples and silver eyes make her extraordinary, and she always steals my breath. I pull my eyes from her spinning around the empty lot laughing, while Violet smiles down at her, and look back at the boutique as I exit the car.

  We all make our way to the entrance, and just like when we came with Allie, Marceline waits for us at the door. She pushes it open and greets us, as hellos are exchanged. When the door shuts behind us, the bell tied to the handle jingles briefly, before it settles and suddenly, and unexpectedly, chills spread across my skin. My heart is thumping like crazy as I take a quick glimpse around the room. A soft, but strong, breeze blows across my cheek, then whips around and travels to the back of my head. My auburn hair, that I’ve worn down like most days because Max likes it this way, takes in the feel of the gentle caress and I tremble. I turn to see where it’s coming from, but there’s nothing there. All at once, something sweet, that reminds me of the smell of cookies, surrounds me, and I take a gently whiff. More chills spread across my skin as I take a step forward with the sweet scent following me.

  “Do you remember where the gowns are, sweetheart?” Marceline inquires. I glance at her and smile and nod, then take in a deep breath to relax, noting the sweet smell seems to have softened. My stomach is full of butterflies as I make my way through the standing racks and shelves of clothes, until I come to a halt in front of the small selection of gowns. There’s, maybe, fifteen or twenty lined up. Not too many at all.

  I smell the sweet cookies again and glance around. Maybe Marceline has some out for her customers I surmise, and look back at the counter. I don’t see any, so I turn to Abigail, who’s standing next to me.

  “Do you smell that?” I probe.

  “What?” She glances around and sniffs the air.

  “Cookies?” I stare at her as I wait for her to confirm that she smells it too.

  Goosebumps upon goosebumps, attack my skin when she replies, “Cookies? No, I don’t.”

  “Guess I’m craving them or something.” I rationalize to myself.

  I give my attention back to the rack of dresses. I make my way down the row, taking them in as best I can with most being stored in clear plastic garment bags. I pull a few off the rack and hand them to Marceline who’s walked over. She smiles as she takes them, and walks off to the dressing room to prepare them for me to try on. I slide a few more across the rack, now having more room to study them, but still nothing jumps out. I’m trying hard not to let my apprehension show, while I sift through the final selections. I’m down to the last three when I slide one over and another one, that’s been stuck behind the last two, swings forward with such force it knocks me back a step. I watch, stunned, as it sways back and forth a couple of times before finally coming to rest on the rack. But no sooner does it steady, does it fall to the ground. I gasp in shock, but also in concern, as I quickly pick it up so it won’t wrinkle.

  I reach over to hang it back up, when I notice it has a beautiful shimmer. I can see it’s strapless and has beautiful beading along the bodice, so I flip it over to get a better view of the back. I can’t see much, but I do see it softly sparkles, so I move it back in forth and watch as the overhead lights bounce off the stones. It’s sparkling like a thousand tiny candles. I inhale a sharp breath, and my lips part in awe. I smell the cookies again, while another delicate touch seems to caress my hair. God, am I going crazy? I glance over and see everyone has gathered and is staring at me. Marceline walks back over and lets out a soft squeal that startles me.

  “Oh my, where did you find that? I’ve searched everywhere for it,” she asks surprised, pointing at the gown in my hands.

  “It was stuck behind some of the other dresses,” I explain and point at the rack. Startled at her shock, I’m not sure if it’s okay to try it on. “Is it okay...?”

  “Of course, it’s okay,” she insists. “It’s just, I got that in just last month, but lost track of it that same day. I tore this place apart, but never found it. It was on the rack?” she asks again, perplexed, and puts a hand on her hip with her eyebrows drawn together.

  “Yes.” My reply is simple, as I have no explanation or response to what she’s sharing.

  “Hmmm.” She smiles. “I think this is your dress.” She unrests her hand from her hip, and her frown is replaced with a gleaming smile.

  Marceline is a beautiful older woman with gray hair. She has brown eyes and carries a little weight, but it looks good on her. Her smile is sweet, along with her personality. She reaches over and pats my cheek gently, before taking the dress from me.

  “I don’t know what’s going on, and I chance admitting this without you thinking I sound like a crazy old bat, but when Savannah called this morning to tell me y'all were coming, I cleared that entir
e rack. I cleaned and dusted it before I hung those dresses back up, and that gown was not there,” she confesses, and shakes her head in disbelief. “Maybe you have a guardian angel that wants you to have that dress.” Marceline’s admission surprises me, and I stand thrown as I watch her retreat to the dressing rooms carrying the dress.

  “Come on,” Grandma says, then guides me to follow Marceline. “You do have angels, you know,” Grandma confides, and her statement confuses me. “Your grandpa, and momma in Heaven. I know you didn’t know your momma, but she loved you for the short time she had you. Loved you so much. I’m sure she and your grandpa have been with you every single day since they left this Earth. Maybe, I don’t know...maybe Siobhan, your momma, and Grandpa picked that gown for you. Hid it till you could come in and try it on,” she adds, and shakes her head as she takes a deep breath. “Stranger things have happened, right?” She pleads me to agree, so I won’t think she’s crazy.

  “Right,” I agree and smile, but it’s an unsure smile. No one really ever talks about my mom too much. I’ve seen pictures, so know we look a lot alike. I know she was killed in a car accident when she was hit by a drunk driver, and I was a baby when it happened. I guess because I didn’t know her, and always had Grandma and Violet in my life in the roll of my moms, I never really thought about it. Or her.

  I walk to the large dressing room that has my name written on an oval dry erase board, next to the heavy draped curtain, giving the person in the room privacy, and push it open just enough to walk through. Abigail joins me a moment later, and I quickly undress, finally excited to try one on, but with Grandmas words still swirling through my mind. When Abigail pulls the dress from the hook Marceline had it on, it falls free and I stare in astonishment. It’s stunning and has a train. Along the full skirt rests a sheer lace overlay with thousands of tiny shining stones. Abigail prepares it, so that I can step into it. I slide it up my body, and she laces up the corset style back. While she does this, I stare in the mirror unable to breathe. After she finishes, she steps back, and I let my hair fall, still in shock. It’s exactly what I envisioned.