The Substitute

by Denise Grover Swank

  “It’s a damn wedding,” Josh said, trying to keep his anger in check. “Not a global summit. What do Megan and I need to do today? Absolute musts only.”

  Her mother’s face reddened, although Megan wasn’t sure if it was from anger or embarrassment. Perhaps both. “She needs to pick up her dress and make sure it fits after the alterations. You both need to pick up the marriage license.”

  Megan’s hand grew clammy at the mere mention.

  Her mother’s resolve seemed to be returning, along with her haughtiness. “As I said in my message this morning, I have an appointment at Powell Gardens at two to go over everything for tomorrow with the event planner. I would prefer for Megan to come to that, but I need you both at the Platte County courthouse at three-thirty.”

  “Why so precise?” Megan asked.

  Her mother’s scowl deepened. “It’s all in the itinerary, Megan. Did you even bother to read it?”

  Megan figured her silence was answer enough.

  Her mother rolled her eyes again. “I have a photographer scheduled to be there to take your pictures.”

  “Getting our marriage license?”

  “It’s an important moment to preserve.”

  Megan shook her head, at a loss for words.

  “So Megan needs to pick up her dress, and we need to meet you at three-thirty at the courthouse,” Josh said in a tone that was all business. It was obvious he’d axed the Powell Gardens stop as must-do. “Anything else?”

  “You were supposed to go see Bart at his office to take him his tux and make sure it fits before the shop closes today.” Her eyes hardened and she shot the clerk a glare. “And after today’s fiasco, it’s a good thing I already budgeted in time to make sure it worked out.”

  “Josh’s tux issues weren’t this poor man’s fault, Mother.”

  “Nevertheless…”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Noah said, stepping forward and clapping Josh on the shoulder. “You go spend the day with your bride-to-be. I’ll take Bart his tux.”

  Megan’s mother looked dubious.

  “I’d love to do it, Mrs. Vandemeer,” Noah said, using a toothpaste commercial smile that Megan was sure had gotten him more women than he could count.

  “If you’re sure…”

  Noah’s grin spread. “Well, that settles it. You two crazy kids go have fun picking up wedding dresses and getting that marriage license.” He turned slightly so Megan’s mother couldn’t see him snicker.

  “We’ll see you at three-thirty.” Josh tugged on Megan’s hand and dragged her toward the front door.

  “Run, kids!” Gram called after them. “Escape while you can!”

  “Megan!” her mother called after her. “Do not let him see your dress.”

  “See you later, Mom,” she said as Josh continued out the door, not stopping until after he opened the car door for her.

  “You just bowled over my mother,” Megan said as she climbed into the driver’s seat. “Thanks.”

  His hand tightened around the edge of the car door and his eyes darkened. “I probably should have let you handle it, but she infuriated me.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Does you seriously think you need to lose weight?”

  Megan looked up into his face, floored by the protectiveness radiating off him. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just get the dress, then eat lunch.” She gave him a wicked grin. “I seem to have worked up an appetite.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  The bridal shop was only ten minutes away and they made an unspoken pact not to talk about their impending troubles. Megan told Josh about all the spats she and her brother used to get into as kids and how all her friends used to crush on him, Blair included.

  “No offense,” Josh said in a dry tone, “but I have trouble imagining Blair developing a crush on anyone. It seems like she’d be happier if she were actually crushing them instead.”

  “I told you that she wasn’t always like this. She means well.” When he didn’t respond, she said, “Tell me more about growing up with your brother.”

  She pulled into the bridal store parking lot and Josh held out his hands, beaming. “Looks like my Noah stories will have to wait.”

  “You can tell me at lunch.”

  Josh followed her into the bridal store, holding the door open for her. The saleswoman recognized her and smiled, probably in part because her mother was nowhere in evidence. “We have your dress ready for you. Go on back to the fitting room and I’ll bring it to you.”

  Josh looked around, wariness in his eyes as he took in the racks of lace, satin, and organza dresses.

  Megan laughed. “You don’t have to be in here, Josh. You can wait in the car.”

  “No, I want to see you in your dress.”

  “My mother specifically forbade it.”

  He gave her a wicked grin. “Since when do you obey your mother?”

  His words caught her off guard. Her entire life had been one act of secret disobedience after the other, except for her major, impossible-to-hide decisions like running off to college and moving to Seattle. It wasn’t that she was purposely hiding her defiance. She was avoiding conflict. Megan had no problem standing up to anyone else. So why couldn’t she stand up for herself with her mother?

  “Megan?” Josh asked, his smile fading.

  She threw her arms around his neck. She couldn’t believe she was considering what she was considering. Was this man, whom she’d only known for two days, worth the risk? What she felt for him scared her, but the thought of losing him scared her more.

  His arm tightened around her back and his hand cupped the back of her head. “Hey, are you okay?”

  She leaned back and searched his face, not even sure what she was looking for—perhaps some sign that he was right there with her, that fate really had seated them together on that plane. Could there actually be something to the fortune teller’s prediction?

  “Do you want to just skip this?” he whispered, his eyes filled with worry. “It’s not like we’re really getting married.”

  She forced a smile. “No. I’m just being silly.” She broke loose from his hold. “You have a seat and I’ll show it to you.”

  His eyes searched hers. “Are you sure?”

  “Sit,” she ordered, her good mood returning. “I’ll be out after I wrestle this monster on.”

  “Okay.”

  She found the saleswoman in the back waiting with the crinoline skirt. “Do you have a strapless bra?”

  Megan cringed. “No.”

  “Not to worry. Your mother had us set one aside.”

  “Of course she did,” Megan mumbled.

  “You get undressed and put on the bra, then I’ll be in to help you with the dress.”

  Megan didn’t waste time disrobing and putting on the bra. The saleswoman returned moments later and helped her pull the fluffy skirt over her head.

  “Tomorrow I’m sure your hair will be done, so you’ll probably want to step into the slip, but the dress will still have to go over your head.”

  “Okay,” Megan said, only half listening. None of it mattered. She would never wear the dress again anyway.

  The clerk removed the dress from the hanger. “Ready?” the woman asked, holding the dress toward her.

  “As much as I’ll ever be.”

  The clerk gave her a questioning look, but kept silent.

  It took several minutes to get the dress over her head and laced in the back. The clerk opened the door and helped her maneuver the massive skirt through the opening. “Are you sure you want the groom to see you?” the woman asked. “Some people believe it’s bad luck.”

  “I’ve had enough bad luck to last me a lifetime. I’ll risk it.” She picked up the skirt and rounded the corner.

  Josh was sitting in a chair, his legs extended and crossed at the ankles, his arms crossed over his chest. When she entered the viewing area, he sat upright, his gaze combing her from head to toe.

  She stepped onto the short
stage and dropped the fluffy skirt.

  Josh still eyed her, his face expressionless.

  Megan cocked an eyebrow. “That bad, huh?”

  He shook his head and stood. “The opposite of bad.”

  She looked down at the massive skirt, her nose wrinkling in disgust. “I look like Cinderella…if she stuck her finger in the light socket just before running off to the ball to seduce Prince Charming. Now all I need is a pair of glass slippers. But it fits the princess theme, so if Knickers is happy, everyone is supposed to be.”

  “But you’re not happy?”

  “What does it matter? It’s not like there’s going to be a wedding anyway.”

  The sales clerk, who had begun inspecting the seams on the dress, jerked her head up in surprise, but refrained from comment.

  “Why did you buy the dress if you hate it so much?”

  “First of all, I don’t really hate the dress. It’s beautiful. It’s just not what I wanted. And I didn’t order it. My mother did.” She took a deep breath to keep from tearing up, but her voice still broke as she continued, “Apparently, the dress I chose—the dress I love—didn’t fit in with her princess theme so she ordered this one.”

  “You’re kidding?’

  “I wish I was.”

  “That’s just not right.”

  She lifted one shoulder into a half shrug, trying to convince herself it didn’t matter, even though it still hurt. “It is what it is.”

  “Which one did you pick?”

  Her head jerked up in surprise. “It doesn’t matter now.”

  “It matters to me. Which one did you pick? I want to see it.”

  A warmth spread through her chest, and she resisted the urge to hug him. “I don’t even know if they have it anymore.”

  “We do,” the sales woman said, standing upright.

  “How do you know about it?” Megan asked, looking over her shoulder at her. “I don’t remember you being here when I tried on dresses last fall.”

  “I wasn’t. But I took the call when your mother changed the order. It was too late to cancel the first dress, but your mother pitched such a fit the manager let her order the new one, taking the loss and hoping we’d sell the original. I’ve never heard of a bride’s mother canceling a bride’s dress behind her back like that. It was the talk of the store for weeks. We would have called you if any of us knew how to reach you.”

  “You still have it?” Megan asked

  The woman nodded.

  “Can she try it on?” Josh asked.

  “Sure…” the woman said. “But you can’t trade it. This dress has already been altered to fit you. No refunds.”

  “That’s okay,” Josh said. “I still want to see it on her.”

  “This one looks beautiful,” the woman said, fluffing the skirt, then stepping off the stage. “But I’ll pull the other one if you want to see it.”

  “Thanks,” Josh said, offering his hand to Megan.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked as she stepped down next to him.

  “Don’t you want to try it on again?”

  Did she? “I don’t see the point.” She loved the dress, yes, but this whole charade had gotten out of hand. Her mother had spent the equivalent of a year’s salary on the wedding and for what? Wasn’t a wedding supposed to be the commitment of two people who not only loved each other but genuinely liked each other enough to promise a lifetime commitment? This wedding would be no less of a farce if Jay were here with her now. She had thought she loved Jay, but now she wasn’t sure she’d even liked him. She was embarrassed to admit it to herself, but there it was. The truth. Finding Jay nailing his secretary on his desk was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

  But if she were teasing the truth out of this screwed-up mess, she also knew that the dress she’d chosen meant something to her. It had been her symbol that she would get married someday and have a different marriage than her parents did. She’d almost screwed up with Jay, but she was realizing what was important. And the man in front of her ranked very high on that list, even after only knowing him a few days.

  He gave her a coaxing smile. “Indulge me.”

  She returned to the fitting room and waited for the woman to come back and help her change. The dress she’d chosen was lighter and rather than the crinoline skirt of the Cinderella dress, its skirt was made of swathes of silk with scattered gatherings around the skirt and a small train. The bodice was like a wrap dress, with a V-neck that showed off her chest without revealing too much cleavage. The first dress had been strapless, but this one had short, silk, off-the-shoulder sleeves.

  “This dress does suit you better,” the saleswoman said as she zipped up the back. “You need a different veil. I don’t think the tiara your mother picked would work. Wait a moment. I have one in mind.”

  She was back within seconds, holding a comb with an attached veil, which she carefully arranged on top of Megan’s head. “That’s much better,” the woman said, but there was regret in her voice. “It’s such a shame your mother didn’t stick with this one. I really do wish we could exchange it.”

  “It’s okay. I’m not getting married anyway.” The saleswoman started to say something, but Megan interrupted her. “It’s a long story. Josh is just filling in.”

  The woman took it in stride, which made Megan wonder how many weird stories she heard in her line of work. “Well, let’s let your substitute groom see you.”

  “Okay,” Megan said, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. The sales clerk was right. This dress was so much more her. While she hadn’t thought anything of showing the other dress to Josh, this one mattered. What if he didn’t like it?

  His back was turned, his eyes gazing out the shop’s windows, but he must have heard the ruffle of silk because he turned slowly to look at her.

  She took several steps toward him, then stopped, searching his face for a reaction.

  He must have seen the worry in her eyes because he closed the distance between them, gently slipped his hand behind her head and pulled her mouth to his. It was a soft kiss, gentle and reassuring. When he lifted his head, his eyes were filled with warmth. “God, Megan. You’re beautiful.”

  She flushed, slightly irritated with herself that his opinion meant so much.

  “Your mother is an idiot,” he murmured, picking up her hand as he took a step back. “This dress is so much more you.”

  The clerk stood behind Megan, smiling sadly. “It fits perfectly. This dress looks like it was made for you.”

  Megan stepped up onto the stage and studied herself in the mirror.

  A group of women entered the store, chatting excitedly, and an anxious look filled the saleswoman’s eyes. “My next appointment is here, and the other consultant called in sick.”

  Megan forced a smile. “That’s okay. I’m done.” She stepped off the stage, ignoring Josh’s offer to help, confused by her feelings. She couldn’t name all of the emotions brewing in her chest, but she could name one, pushing its way to the front, demanding attention—sadness. She didn’t know if it was over the man she was possibly walking away from or the dress she’d never have, because after wearing it for Josh, she knew she could never wear it for another man.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  When they got back into the car, Josh told her that he’d changed his mind. He wanted to get a phone after all.

  She told herself it didn’t mean anything, but somehow she sensed it did.

  Nevertheless, his earlier distance was gone. She stopped at a phone store next to the shopping mall and stayed with him while he picked out his replacement. He touched her nonstop—either holding her hand or putting an arm around her. And she teased him about how he’d told her earlier in the morning that he was going to be the attentive boyfriend she would either love or hate.

  “And which is it so far?” he asked with a grin.

  She lifted her eyebrows playfully. “I’ll let you know later, but I have no complaints so far.”
r />   He snaked an arm around her back and pulled her close, searching her eyes.

  “You two are so cute,” the sales girl gushed. “It’s so wonderful to see couples in love.”

  She expected Josh to pull away or protest, but he only pulled her closer and placed a sweet kiss on her forehead.

  In love? It was too soon to make that kind of pronouncement, yet there was no denying she was heading there fast. What if they didn’t go past tonight? How would she live with that? But something told her focusing on the future would be a mistake if it meant missing out on the present.

  They left the store and she drove him to a crummy little strip mall, refusing to tell him where they were headed until she parked. “Don’t let the exterior fool you,” she said, pointing at the sign. Faded cartoon characters adorned the sign. A man on a horse carrying a Mexican flag was next to a man with a huge handlebar mustache holding a set of maracas. A third man was about to take a bite out of a huge taco. “Three Amigos has the best Mexican food I’ve ever eaten. And they make great margaritas too.”

  “You don’t have to sell me on it. We’re already here. And I’m starving, so let’s go get a table.”

  Fifteen minutes later, their orders were in and Megan had already polished off one margarita and, after Josh’s assurance he’d drive to the courthouse, asked for a second one. They had fallen back into their lightheartedness from earlier when Megan’s phone rang. “It’s probably my mother making sure I haven’t run off again,” she said, faking a cringe. But when she saw the name on the screen, her smile fell. Why was Jay calling her again?

  “Is it your mother?”

  She silenced the ringer and stuffed it back into her purse. “It doesn’t matter. You were telling me a story about your brother scratching your name in the side of your mother’s car with a key when you were kids.”

  He studied her for a moment and she wondered if he suspected something, but he resumed his story.

  They had finished their lunch, Megan had polished off her second drink, and they were sharing fried ice cream when Josh pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. He set his spoon on the table. “It’s Noah. I better take it.”