“Have you memorized the entire catalogue?” Grace asked with a smirk.
Claire smiled patiently. “It is my job.”
Right. She was Molly’s backup, and everything from her insincere smile to this soliloquy of silk had to be her trying to sell the role.
Grace turned back to Molly. “Have you any jewelry, or do we need to get some?”
“I might have some.” The pearl earrings Nate had given her last week would match the tiara. But she could use that opening for the case, too. “Wish I could borrow Mum’s emeralds, but she won’t fly with them.”
“Emeralds would be perfect.” Grace didn’t seem to read anything more into it.
All right, it was a rather weak attempt.
“Here.” Claire took Molly by the elbow and rotated her 180 degrees. “Let’s see the back, with these gorgeous organdy flowers accenting the half-bow sash.”
Could this dress be any more ridiculous? Even the flourishes had flourishes.
Grace walked around Molly to examine the fabric flowers at the small of her back. “Will we have a dinner or just refreshments? Have you thought about your cake?”
“I haven’t — what’s your schedule like the next fortnight?” Molly cringed mentally at the less-than-subtle segue. At least it was more likely to work than the last ploy.
She waved that away. “Don’t worry about me, dearie. Happy to make time for you.”
Claire knelt to pull the little train to its full length, though the skirt was too short. “This is a sweep train, but the designer offers an attachable semi-cathedral train to take this from semi-formal to a more church-ready option.”
Each word fell on her all-too-bare shoulders, adding more and more weight. How was an imaginary wedding causing her this much stress?
“I don’t want to seem pushy about this, but we’re in a bit of a hurry.” Grace’s words echoed back to what Nate’s last night. Now that was a reason for stress.
“What kind of ring does Jason want?” Grace asked. “And what will Jason be wearin’ — suit or tuxedo?”
In a flash, Molly remembered Zach in a tuxedo, when he took her to a concert at the Kennedy Center. The event warranted a presidential appearance, but that wasn’t what made that day special. Zach took the time to familiarize her with the artists and their works and significance beforehand — under the cherry blossoms by the river, and by the reflecting city lights from the Kennedy Center terrace during intermission — so she could understand and enjoy something he loved so much. That made the evening unforgettable.
If she hadn’t already fallen for him, she would’ve that night, with the way that he looked at her like she was his whole world.
That old cavern cracked open in her chest, first etched there when he’d dumped her. She had loved him more than air.
She refocused on her reflection. Could she walk down the aisle in this dress, toward Zach looking the way he had that night?
The bride in the mirror began to blur. Molly blinked furiously, trying to allay the tears.
She wasn’t quick enough. “Dearie, you all right?”
Molly didn’t dare speak. She couldn’t risk losing Grace because of her inconvenient emotions. Grace took her hand. “Come, dear heart, let’s get you down off there.”
She stepped off the riser, allowing Grace to lead her to the only chairs not covered with orange and green dresses.
“What is it, dearie? Don’t try tellin’ me these are tears of joy.”
Molly cursed her stupid tears — over Zach, no less. So much for putting her real life into a box. Or protecting her heart.
Then she saw the opportunity. She drew in a ragged breath and wiped an errant tear with the back of her wrist. “I don’t know, just the stress of it all. So much to do and no time.”
“When you’re on such a tight schedule, this is bound to happen.” Grace patted her arm. “You’ll have to pick the most important things and focus on those. And if that’s impossible, then you might consider pushin’ the weddin’ back.”
She swiped at another tear. This could be her chance to get out of this dress, this appointment, and perhaps even the partnership with Zach.
More than that, it was her chance to get away from marriage for more pertinent topics. “I don’t know if I’m up for this today. Maybe if we just . . . talked.”
“Of course, dearie.” Grace nodded emphatically, her bobbed hair bouncing in time. “Why don’t you get dressed and we’ll go get some bridal magazines and start on some priorities for your weddin’? All right?”
Not what she meant by talk, but close enough. “All right. Thank you.” She’d get another shot at her objectives while they were talking.
Had her goal been finding the perfect dress that day, the afternoon would’ve been a failure. But it seemed she’d accomplished her real mission of earning Grace’s trust in record time.
It’d only taken a little heartbreak.
Zach double-checked the van back in the garage Saturday afternoon and made sure there were plenty of earpieces. They’d finished earlier than expected — their guy had been very convincing to the rest of the fringe militiamen.
Was Molly doing as well at convincing Grace?
“Hey, man,” Xavier called as Zach climbed out of the van. “Anything I need to put in the notes?”
Zach quick-scanned his notes. Without visual contact, they didn’t have many observations to add. “Remember his tone here?” Zach pointed to one quote from the militia leader about the future of democracy.
Xavier noted the sarcasm. “You busy now?”
“Not if we’re done with notes.” Though he could go see how Molly — no, she was fine. Maybe.
“There’s a free Thelonious Monk tribute concert at the Cultural Center. Want to come?”
Free jazz? Zach looked at the time on his phone. If he changed into the extra slacks that were hopefully still folded in his trunk, they could make it. “Let’s do it.”
Besides, Molly didn’t want his help.
Zach regretted his choice the minute he and Xavier walked through the Chicago Cultural Center’s ornamented archways — and met X’s girlfriend, Lila, and her sister Nia.
The sister Zach had already said he didn’t want to go out with again.
“You haven’t put me through enough this week?” Zach muttered to the guy who was supposed to be his friend.
“You need to get out more,” X said. “And you need to get over Molly.”
“I am over her.” Enough to not be subjected to this. But X was his friend — and his boss — so he’d grin and bear it. Mostly bear it, if Nia’s manners were as bad as the last time they’d been set up. She’d talked loud enough for the performers to hear at their last concert.
Pretty much the opposite of Molly. When she’d come to DC and he dragged her to a jazz concert, she’d at least pretended to be interested as he probably bored her all day with too much information about the Duke and Lady Ella and Billie Holladay. She’d even had perfect performance etiquette. Like he needed another reason to love her.
Of course, she’d shown up for the Kennedy Center curls pinned up, long white dress — and he’d gotten Ideas. Stupid, painful Ideas that left him wide open, bleeding and raw.
Okay, maybe he wasn’t as over her as he thought. He could endure a blind date if it helped him move on. And people could change. Zach forced on a smile and walked over to Nia.
Whatever it took to get over Molly.
In the queue at the closest Barnes and Noble, Molly accepted a chocolate croissant from Grace and glanced down at the top-most wedding magazine. Couldn’t they talk about anything else? “Not sure this is where I should focus. There’s so much.”
Grace patted the magazines. “Bound to be a checklist in these. Perhaps even a list if you only have ninety days to plan your weddin’.”
“It’s only eleven weeks from today.”
Grace sighed. “How do you take your coffee?”
Molly took in a lungful of burned coffe
e. She still missed it. Molly read the menu boards: seven panels listing coffees and teas. Only four drinks without caffeine. “You know, I can’t have coffee after noon. I’ll be up all night.”
“Didn’t realize you were so sensitive.”
“Caffeine, you know yourself. I’ll just have the hazelnut cocoa.”
Grace took a magazine from Molly’s stack. “Maybe you should talk to Jason about movin’ the weddin’ back,” Grace suggested again. “To get everythin’ in order.”
“Knowin’ Jason, he’d worry I was backin’ out.”
“You’ve got to let him know how stressful this is. The next eleven weeks will be a nightmare for you both if you don’t discuss these things — not to mention the rest of your lives.”
Molly couldn’t agree more. Especially not as Molly Ryan, blushing bride.
“Dearie, you sure you’re makin’ the right choice? Jason’s pure class, but . . .”
But marriage was so . . . final.
Without the wedding, she could lose Grace’s interest altogether. “I’m sure,” she said, her tone decisive.
“All right, then.” The barrista rang them up, and Molly paid for the magazines. They took a seat at a high table and spread out the magazines between them. Grace pulled out her binder again and flipped to a section filled with lined paper. “How many people are you thinkin’ of havin’?”
“Not sure, but we’d like to keep it small, especially if we’re doin’ it this fast.”
Grace seemed to be fighting whatever expression was trying to show itself. “Are you not pushin’ it back?”
“I’ll have to talk to Jason; I can’t go makin’ that decision without him.”
“Sure.” Grace clicked her pen. “So how small?”
Molly tore a bite off her chocolate croissant and ate it to stall. What was considered small? “Fifty people?”
Grace wrote that down. No, she wrote down 150.
“Oh, I said fifty.”
“Nonsense,” Grace said. “You’ll barely have your families with that.”
An opening. “Who else should we invite? Do you have family friends’ addresses in Derry?”
“Sure I do.”
“Not many of them will make it, I’m sure.” Molly took another bite of croissant, pretending to ponder. “Know of anyone else in the States?”
“Off the top of my head, I don’t.” Grace set aside her pen. “I’m sure you’ve been dreamin’ about this day since you were a girl — so what have you always wanted?”
Molly used last bites of the croissant to buy herself one minute. She hadn’t dreamed of her wedding since she was young enough to play with dolls, and she doubted play acting decades ago would help. “I don’t know, Grace. I haven’t kept a Pinterest board of weddin’ ideas.”
“What’s a Pinterest?”
“A website — never mind.”
“Well, we have to start somewhere, dearie. You want a ceremony, yeah?”
“Obviously.”
“Then you’ll need an officiant and a place — and if you don’t care about bein’ married in a church, then you might look for one venue for your ceremony and reception.”
“Good idea.” Better idea: pressing her objectives. “But are you sure you’d have time to help us with all that?”
“And if you choose a place that’s done it enough,” Grace pressed on without acknowledging Molly, “they can take care of the decorations and music and food, too. Maybe even the photography. Then the only other things you have to worry about are dressin’ the weddin’ party, the invitations and maybe the cake.”
Molly waited for Grace to finish writing her list before she spoke. “And rings and the honeymoon. And logistics.”
“Jason should handle the rings and the honeymoon — and I’m sure he’ll be in charge of the logistics, once we get the other details hammered out.”
“We really can’t ask this of you, Grace.” Molly geared up for another attempt at Grace’s schedule. “I’m sure you’re up to ninety.”
“Nonsense. You’re like a niece to me, Molly. I’m happy to help. Might be busy for the next little bit, but we’ll be workin’ as fast as we can.”
Did Grace mean only she’d be busy — and with what? — or they all would, with wedding planning?
Grace turned back to her notebook. “The top priorities are findin’ your dress in time for alterations and reservin’ a venue. Difficult on short notice. Naturally, I’ll take care of the flowers.”
Molly again waited for Grace to finish writing. “Let’s see the list, so.”
Grace passed her the paper. Molly silently vowed to search the Internet for each of those things and tell Grace she’d got whatever came up first on the search engine. She couldn’t possibly go through with the ceremony anyway. Time to bite the bullet and lie.
“How soon can we start?” Molly asked. Anything to get at the schedule. “What’s your schedule like?”
“I’ve got more time today, but I’ll need to ring ’round to find a reception site with an openin’. How’s about next weekend?”
“Don’t have anythin’ planned.”
“I know: I’ll give my florist friend a ring and find some fantastic full-service reception sites, and the four of us will do a tour.”
Four? Jason, right. Molly guessed he had to be invited. Unless he could be “busy.”
Didn’t help that she’d just broken down over him. Fine, she could admit it: maybe she did still have feelings for him. But he’d obviously moved on, so she’d have to deal with those feelings. Like the professional she was.
Grace dug in her tote and came up with a smaller notebook — a day planner. Was it too much to hope for a glimpse, and that she’d marked the “red letter day”?
Grace stayed on the page for the upcoming week. All Molly could see were her work hours. “We’re free Friday afternoon, if that helps,” Grace offered.
Only if she testified in Doyle Murphy’s case as scheduled Thursday. “Mightn’t the evenin’ be better?”
“We’ll get more individual attention durin’ the day, dearie.”
“Is that best for you?” Molly tried to slide the datebook over, but Grace held it fast.
“It is. You need my datebook for somethin’?” she teased.
“Just thinkin’ I’ll probably need somethin’ similar.”
“Good idea.” Grace snapped it up and tossed it back in her tote. “So, your reception?” She began a new list without waiting for Molly’s response. “Dinner, dancin’, cuttin’ the cake, of course, greetin’ your guests — and let’s settle on Jason’s attire.”
Molly sighed. At least she didn’t have to fill in the details herself — or confer with Zach about their imaginary wedding for another week.
After the second-to-last rehearsal for their stake young men chorus Sunday night, Zach and his sister stayed behind with the last young man in the church building. Parker was too shy to hold up a conversation. Lucy flopped into a paisley armchair and drummed her fingers on the arm, refusing to acknowledge Zach. Obviously she wasn’t going to help pass the time. Zach slowly paced the gray carpet, trying to keep his mind from wandering yet again to Molly’s assignment yesterday.
If it was as bad as sitting through a concert with never-stop-talking Nia, he would’ve already heard. He’d get the details soon enough.
Tonight he had only two problems: whether the young men chorus was ready, and calling Paddy once he got home.
Zach attacked his first objective. “How were the soli tonight?”
“Lorenzo’s really good.” She shifted in the chair, further away from Zach. “But Andy’s not practicing, I can tell.”
Teenagers. “Remind them we’re performing next week with a General Authority sitting two feet away.”
“I did.” She bit her thumb, cradling her elbow with her other arm.
Closed body language went well with the I-don’t-want-to-talk mood she’d been in all night. Conversation killer. Fortunately, Zach’s phone spar
ed them further discomfort when it rang. He checked the number: Molly. He wasn’t about to discuss her with Lucy anyway. Zach turned away from his sister and wandered through the wooden doors to the darkened chapel to answer. “Hello?”
“Zach — are you free Friday?”
Was she asking him out? Zach bit his lip to hold back a grin. “What time?”
“Afternoon. Grace’s takin’ us to reception and ceremony sites.”
His shoulders fell, and Zach took a moment to let his disappointment dissipate. Didn’t matter anyway. Even if Molly wanted to date, their relationship would end the same way it had last year. He focused on the case. “She’s really getting into this wedding planning.”
“That she is. So, can you?”
Zach took a mental glance at his calendar. Doyle Murphy’s trial was underway, and he knew Molly hadn’t testified. He’d have to risk calling the Assistant US Attorney prosecuting the case — when she wasn’t after a second date — to see when Molly was on the schedule. “I’ll make it work.”
“Fantastic.”
Now was his chance to ask. “How’d yesterday go?”
Molly hesitated. “Not quite how I anticipated, but pretty well. Very glad I’m not really gettin’ married, though.”
Zach didn’t trust himself to say anything.
“That is, she picked out my colors. She tried to force me into a strapless dress.”
“Physically?” Zach teased.
Molly seemed to appreciate the joke. “Silly. She asked how many people I wanted to invite and then tripled the headcount.”
“Sounds fun. For her. Is she inviting more IRA people?”
“Couldn’t pin her down to it.”
But she’d thought to try? Good. His vision had adjusted to the dark enough to head down an aisle between the pews.
“What’s my budget, by the way?” Molly asked.
“I’ll have to check with X.”
“Holdin’ the purse strings for you, is he?”
Zach sniffed in fake indignation. “I have my pin money, thank you very much.”
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