The Trouble With I Do (Fairhope #6)

by Sarra Cannon

  I park and walk in feeling like a princess. Jenna, Jo, and Penny are all there waiting for me in the lobby, and they swarm me the second I get there.

  “Oh my God, this is going to be so much fun,” Penny squeals. “I made sure that Amanda had some champagne on hand for us. This is definitely a day for celebrating. Where’s your mom? Isn’t she coming?”

  “She said she’d be here,” I say, glancing at my phone. It’s just now exactly ten, so she’s not really late yet, but I don’t want to wait too long before we get started. “Should we tell them we’re ready to go back? Or should we wait?”

  “I don’t see any harm in at least taking a look at the dresses on the rack and letting them know which ones you want to try on,” Jenna says. “Did you bring the pictures of the dress styles you wanted to try?”

  “No need,” my mother calls out as she emerges from the back room of the bridal store. “I’ve already told them exactly what we’re looking for, and we’ve managed to find at least six dresses that will work to start. I told them that money is no object when it comes to my little girl.”

  A familiar knot forms in my chest, and I share a look with Penny, who reaches over and squeezes my hand.

  “Everything is going to be fine,” she whispers.

  I know Penny’s right. It’s just a wedding dress, after all. Not brain surgery. But at the same time, I don’t want to have to fight for what I want today. I just want to love what I love and for it all to be easy and fun. Knowing that Mom has already had them pull six dresses makes me slightly nauseated.

  “Come on back, ladies,” Amanda says. “We are so excited to have you here, Leigh Anne. I just know you are going to make a gorgeous bride. And of course, we have closed down the entire shop for the next few hours to give you the run of the place. Hailey, can you flip the sign on the door for me, please?”

  “Of course,” Hailey says.

  I turn to see the hostess from Rob’s standing by the door.

  “Oh, I didn’t know you worked here, too,” I say.

  She flips the sign on the door and locks it. “I only work here a few hours a week, but when I heard you’d be coming in today to try on dresses, I volunteered to be here,” she says. “I’m so excited for you and Knox. I just know you’re going to look gorgeous no matter which dress you choose.”

  The two ladies escort us back to a set of plush grey couches with a front-row view of a small stage and a large three-way mirror.

  “If the rest of you ladies would have a seat, I’ll take our bride back to the dressing room and we can get this party started,” Amanda says. “Hailey, would you mind serving the champagne?”

  “Not at all.” Hailey pops the top on the bottle and pours five equal glasses. She passes them out, but before I can take a glass, Amanda is already leading me back to the dressing rooms.

  “Your mom arrived early and got us started with what types of dresses you’re looking for, so I think we have a great selection for you to try on,” she says. “The wedding is next fall?”

  I take a deep breath through my nose and blow it out through my mouth, attempting to calm my nerves and my anger before I answer. This day is supposed to be about me and about having a wonderful experience picking out the dress of my dreams. I’m not going to let my mother ruin it.

  “No, the wedding is going to be in the spring,” I say.

  Amanda frowns as she pulls open a door and ushers me into a very large dressing room. There are already several dresses hanging up in various locations throughout the room. Every single one of them is a huge ball gown—the exact opposite of what I want to wear on my wedding day.

  “Your mom said the wedding would most likely be in the fall, so some of the dresses we pulled for you would not be ideal choices for the spring, unless you were thinking early March or when it was still likely to be a little bit cooler outside,” she says. “Should we look at dresses that would work for both fall and spring? Is the date still undecided?”

  “We haven’t chosen an exact date, but right now we are thinking either late April or early May for the wedding,” I say. “And no, we don’t need to find a dress that will work for either season. The wedding is going to be in late spring for sure.”

  “Not a problem,” she says, but I can tell she’s flustered. She pulls three dresses from one section of the room and folds them over her arm. “I’m going to take these and put them back on the rack so we don’t get too crowded in here, if that’s okay with you. If you want to, why don’t you go ahead and get undressed. There’s a robe hanging in the closet there for you.”

  “Thanks,” I say as she leaves the room.

  I undress quickly and slip into the silky robe with the word BRIDE embroidered on the back. I wore my strapless nude bra and a pair of silky nude underwear for the occasion, but I imagine I’ll need to buy some special underwear for the dress. Hopefully Amanda can help me figure that out once I pick a dress.

  I stare at the three dresses my mother picked for me.

  I hold each one up, determined to give them a fair shot, but all the layers of tulle and lace and silk have me feeling frustrated. I showed her my dream dress in my binder, and she said she thought it looked lovely. Why would she decide to show up an hour early to specifically pick out dresses that I didn’t like? Is she really so determined to have her way?

  Does she even care if I’m happy on my wedding day?

  Disappointment rolls through me, and tears sting my eyes. I don’t want this to ruin my day, and I know I still have a group of loyal friends out there who are dying to see me in wedding dresses and to support me no matter what, but the fact that my own mother can’t step back from her own desires long enough to acknowledge mine really hurts me.

  “Oh, Leigh Anne, what on earth is wrong?” Amanda asks as she comes back into the room. She grabs my hand. “It’s easy to get overwhelmed, sweetheart. Just take a deep breath. There’s really no rush to choose a dress. You can try on a few today and come back again in a week. Don’t let it overwhelm you.”

  “I’m fine,” I say, dabbing at my eyes. I’m thoroughly embarrassed by the fact that my mother told her the wedding was going to be in the fall. Why would she do such a thing? Is she still hoping to change my mind about it?

  I take a deep breath.

  “You’re right, it’s all a bit overwhelming,” I say, not wanting to tell her what’s really bothering me. “A girl dreams of this kind of thing her whole life, right? It’s just finally hitting me that the moment is really here.”

  “I understand,” she says. “What do you want to do? I’m one hundred percent here for you.”

  I take a deep breath and look around at the sea of tulle and silk. “Maybe we can pick one or two of these to try first, but I’d also like to look at a few different styles besides ballgowns.”

  “Oh, of course,” she says, her eyes lighting up. “I actually mentioned to your mother that with your body shape, you would look amazing in either a mermaid style dress or just a more straight, elegant beaded dress. She said she didn’t think you’d be interested and that you’d been dreaming of a ballgown your whole life, but I’m glad to hear that you’re willing to at least try a few different styles.”

  I force a smile. “An elegant beaded dress sounds wonderful,” I say.

  “We can start here with my two favorites from this group, and then I’ll grab a couple dresses that I think you’ll love.”

  She chooses a particularly poufy white strapless dress from the rack and asks me to step into it. I slip the robe from my shoulders and step into the dress. Amanda pulls it up on my body and fastens a series of buttons in the back as I stare at my reflection in the mirror and hold my hair out of her way.

  “Wow, you look lovely,” she says. “What do you think?”

  I adjust the bodice of the dress and turn from side-to-side to get a better look. It’s a beautiful dress with intricate lace across the bodice and a gorgeous chiffon overlay that cascades to the floor. But it doesn’t feel like me
at all. The top of the dress is form-fitting, but the skirt bells out at the waist. It’s too fancy and overdone for the type of wedding I want to have with Knox.

  “It’s beautiful,” I say. “Maybe a little bit too busy, though?”

  “Do you want to show the others?”

  I hesitate. I really don’t want my mother to see this dress and fall in love with it. But at the same time, I know my friends will instantly recognize that this is not the type of dress I had my heart set on. They’ll stand up for me and hopefully see what’s happening with my mother. Right now, I could use some support. Standing up to Mom when she gets like this isn’t always easy for me.

  “Sure, let’s show them,” I say.

  “This part is so much fun,” Amanda says. “Especially since you guys have the boutique to yourselves today. I love showing off these dresses, and you look stunning.”

  “Thanks,” I say.

  I have to lift the hem of the dress off the floor as I walk, but the train still makes a swooshing sound as I walk down the hallway and out into the mirrored room where my friends and my mother are waiting.

  “Here she is,” Amanda says. “Dress number one. Tell us what you think. Isn’t she gorgeous?”

  I can’t help but smile as my friends ooh and ahh over the sight of me in a wedding dress. Amanda directs me to stand on the small stage in the center of the room, and she takes a moment to arrange the train of the dress just perfectly.

  “Oh, Leigh Anne,” Mom says. Tears shine in her eyes, and she lifts a hand to her mouth. “You look like a dream. I love it.”

  I meet Penny’s eyes, silently begging her for a little help.

  She clears her throat. “You look amazing, of course,” Penny says. “But this isn’t what you were talking about at all. I know you really had your heart set on something more simple and elegant. Less poof, more heavy fabric and form-fitted.”

  My mom frowns and shakes her head. “For a big church wedding, I really think she’d look so much better in a larger dress,” she says. “This type of dress is just perfect on her. Something form-fitting is not going to look that much different from any other dress she wears on a date.”

  “Oh, we have some gorgeous beaded dresses that I think would be perfect for a nice church wedding,” Amanda says. “I’ve already got a couple in mind to pull for you to try on, Leigh Anne.”

  “What does everyone else think?” I ask.

  Jenna shrugs and Jo shakes her head and scrunches up her nose.

  “I don’t really like this on you,” Jenna says. “You look generic, and you are anything but generic. You should look breathtaking on your wedding day. Not like every other bride we’ve ever seen.”

  “Good point,” Jo says. “I think you look beautiful, but it doesn’t feel like it’s your dress. I want to see something else.”

  Mom sighs. “Well, there are plenty of other dresses back there. Let’s see another one.”

  Amanda helps me back to the dressing room, and I try on two more of the ballgowns that Mom had picked out for me. The third one really is something special, and even my friends have to admit that it’s a beautiful dress.

  My mother, of course, adores it.

  “This is the one, Leigh Anne,” she says. “This is the dress you should be married in.”

  “Can we try something different before I make a decision?” I ask.

  “There’s no need,” Mom says. “This is the perfect dress.”

  “Why don’t you go in the back and change into your robe,” Amanda says, stepping in. “We can step out here and take a look through some of the different styles to try to find something else for you to try on.”

  Hailey helps me get undressed, and I tie the robe around my body. Before we step outside to look at more dresses, though, I see her stare longingly at the dress I’ve just taken off. Her hand runs up and down the sequined bodice with reverence.

  “Do you like that one?” I ask.

  She blushes. “I’m sorry,” she says. “This is my favorite dress in the entire shop. I’ve been eyeing it for months.”

  “Are you engaged, too?” I ask. I hadn’t realized she was also getting married soon.

  “We’re getting married in February,” she says. “That’s why I’ve been working two jobs the past few months. Between school and the wedding, we need all the help we can get. And Amanda is going to give me a discount on a dress when I’m ready to buy.”

  “Is this the one you’re going to get?”

  She shakes her head and leads me out into the hallway. “There’s no way I could ever afford a dress like that,” she says. “Even with the discount. I’m going to be looking in the five-hundred-dollar range, not the five thousand. But it’s okay. I know I’m going to find the perfect dress.”

  A twinge of guilt tugs at my heart.

  Here I am feeling pouty that my mother wants me to buy this expensive dress when there’s someone right here who would kill for the chance to wear it. I decide right then and there to just be grateful for what I have and to try my best to have a better attitude about the whole day.

  There are tons of dresses back here, and I know there are even more up front near the displays. It’s amazing any bride can make a decision with so many choices. It really is overwhelming.

  I look through a bunch of dresses and finally settle on a few that look similar to the pictures I cut out of the magazines. We are about to step back into the dressing room when another dress that’s at the end of a nearby rack catches my eye.

  It’s simple and stunning, and just looking at it makes my heart skip a beat. I walk over to the dress and pull it off the rack, holding it up to take a better look.

  The dress is white with triangle-shaped cut-outs in the back that wrap around slightly toward the front. The material is soft and flowy, understated and elegant. It’s subtle and beautiful and perfect.

  “I know that look,” Amanda says. “Bring that dress with you and we’ll put it on next.”

  “Thanks,” I say, blushing. I feel like I just fell in love in a dress store.

  She helps me pull the dress on, and I immediately love the soft fabric. It clings to me, but is still comfortable at the same time. It fits me perfectly except that it’s a little bit too long. The dress is slightly longer in the back than in the front, but it’s a subtle train, and I love it.

  My eyes tear up as I stare at my reflection in the mirror.

  “After your mother described what you were looking for, I never would have recommended this dress to you, but seeing it on you now, I think it’s absolutely breathtaking,” Amanda says. “We have to show everyone.”

  A lump forms in my throat. My mom is never going to approve of this dress, but I still want my friends to see it.

  “Okay,” I say. “Let’s show them.”

  “One second,” Amanda says. “Wait here.”

  I stand and admire the dress while she’s gone, and when she comes back, she has a hair clip with her that has a large, sparkling flower attached.

  “This isn’t going to be quite right for the dress, but I think this is going to be the right idea rather than a veil.” She pulls one side of my hair back and slides the clip in. “What do you think?”

  I can’t help but smile. “It’s perfect.”

  She leads me out to the stage in the mirrored dressing area, and when I appear around the corner, the room goes completely silent.

  At first, I’m not sure whether they all hate it, and I’ve made a terrible mistake or what, but then Penny stands up and wraps her arms around me. She’s crying and her shoulders shake as she holds me close.

  “I absolutely adore this dress, Leigh,” she says. “You look like a real bride. It’s stunning.”

  “Now, this is the opposite of generic,” Jenna says. “This dress was made for you.”

  “I love it,” Jo says. “Knox is going to die when he sees you in this dress.”

  With all the compliments, I actually start to believe that I’ve found the perfect
dress. But then my mother sighs.

  “You absolutely cannot wear this dress,” Mom says. “It hardly even looks like a wedding dress at all. It looks like something you’d wear to a pool party.”

  “A pool party?” Amanda says. Her mouth is practically hanging open, but she straightens and smiles, recovering quickly. “This is one of our couture collection dresses. I assure you this is not a pool party kind of dress.”

  “Well, it’s certainly not a church kind of dress,” Mom says, her arms tight around her body. “You cannot wear that dress in church.”

  The hope that had been bubbling up in my chest dissipates, leaving a cold lump of regret and disappointment. I knew she wouldn’t like this dress, and she’s right. It might be too revealing for church. But every time I pictured my wedding, I saw us out on the lake by the water.

  “I didn’t think about the church,” I say.

  “You look beautiful, of course,” Mom says, her voice softening. “But this dress is inappropriate. I think you should go back to one of the ballgowns that covers more of your body and is more fitting for the occasion.”

  My heart sinks. She’s got a point, but there’s something about this dress that feels so right. I feel like a bride in it, but I also feel like me.

  The ball gown makes me feel like the old Leigh Anne. The girl everyone expected me to become. I thought I had gotten over caring about that as much as I used to, but the idea of getting married in the church wearing that big dress feels like returning to a person I used to be. A person I grew out of.

  Still, the look on my mother’s face says everything I need to know. I can’t wear a dress like this in the church and since I already agreed to have the ceremony there, it’s too late to change it. I’m stuck.

  “I’ll try a few more things,” I say, forcing back the tears that want to flow.

  I stand in front of the mirror in the dressing room for a few minutes alone, touching the soft fabric and feeling silly. It’s just a dress. The important thing is that I’m marrying the man of my dreams. Whether we say our vows by the lake or in the church, and whether I’m wearing a huge ball gown or a sleek modern dress, it really doesn’t matter. What matters is that Knox is the one I’m committing myself to, for better or worse.