Always the Wedding Planner, Never the Bride

by Sandra D. Bricker

  She'd just wiped down the second of eight Guido Venturini glasses when three quick raps on the front door drew her attention. She placed the glass lovingly on the shelf and was about halfway to the door when it opened and Emma poked her head inside.

  "Sher?"

  "Hey! Come on in," she greeted her friend. "What are you doing here?"

  "I wanted to see the new digs. And see if you needed any help."

  Sherilyn's happy smile melted away against her will, and she stood there in front of Emma with her face curled up and tears cascading down her face.

  "Wh-what is it? Sher, are you all right?"

  Sherilyn wordlessly shook her head, her eyes clamped tight, and Emma dropped her purse on the floor, slipped out of her coat, and let it tumble as well.

  Wrapping her open arms around Sherilyn, she cooed, "It's all right. Everything's going to be all right."

  For just an instant, Sherilyn almost believed her. Then the familiar rhythm of the day tapped against her heart, and the tears began to flow once again.

  Emma faced her from the other side of the bed, and Sherilyn snapped the bright red sheet, letting it flutter down into place. They each tucked it under the mattress from their respective sides, and Sherilyn followed suit with the hideous black and red comforter bearing the Blackhawks' Indian brave logo.

  "I'm guessing you did not buy this," Emma stated, and Sherilyn laughed.

  "Um, no. This . . . This is Andy's."

  "Ah."

  "Its days are numbered, however."

  "Thank the Lord."

  They both sat on the foot of the bed, sliding pillows into cases.

  "Issues about Maya," Sherilyn muttered.

  "What kind of issues, I wonder."

  "I wish I knew," she replied. Then, "Well, maybe I don't."

  "Knowing is always better," Emma told her. "Don't you think?"

  "I suppose."

  "I wonder what she looks like."

  A revelation dawned, and Sherilyn looked at Emma with wide, hopeful eyes. "You could ask Jackson."

  "Jackson? Why Jackson?"

  "He was there, the first night they saw each other. At the Blackhawks game."

  Emma mulled that over. "He never mentioned it."

  "But you could ask him, couldn't you? Find out if she's some kind of Angelina Jolie, all buxom and sexy, trying to steal my Brad Pitt right out of my life?"

  "Okay, Jennifer," Emma teased. "Settle down now."

  "C'mon, Em. Ask him about her for me?"

  "You know what would be better?" Emma suggested, and Sherilyn felt her heart drop a little inside her. She knew this tone of Emma's, all reasonable and logical and sensible. She hated that tone. "A hike."

  She cackled. "A hike? Are you joking?"

  "No. I'm not joking. I have my shoes in the car, and I was going to head out to Vickery Creek after I stopped in here. You're already wearing tennis shoes and jeans. Come with me."

  Sherilyn didn't move a muscle; she just stood there, staring at Emma, wondering what had deteriorated between them over the years to bring them to this. An invitation to hike?!

  "Have you met me?" she asked, curling up her face with a frown.

  "Have you met me?" Emma answered. "Fresh air, a little exercise, and some inspiring scenery. It will bring your

  thoughts together, Sher." She tossed the fresh pillow at her with a chuckle. "Get the lead out. We're going hiking."

  "You're delusional," Sherilyn said with a giggle, tossing the pillow back at her.

  Without another word of protest, Emma rose from the bed and stood over her, her hand extended. When Sherilyn finally took it with a groan, Emma wasted no time. She yanked hard and dragged her toward the doorway.

  "Oh yeah. You're going hiking!"

  "Can we get something chocolate after?"

  Top 5 Wedding Dress Superstitions

  A silk wedding dress signifies many years of a happy marriage, but a satin dress denotes unhappiness and ill fortune.

  If a bride helps to sew her own wedding dress, the number of stitches multiplied by one hundred signify the number of tears she will shed in the first year of marriage.

  If the bride happens to find a spider nestled somewhere within the wedding dress, the bride and groom will never endure an unhappy day.

  Although many colors other than white (such as ivory, pastels, or even jewel tones) can be appropriate, a red dress is said to bring a future of misery.

  Pearls on the dress take the place of the bride's future tears. However, if a pearl falls off the dress, the bride will cry before the honeymoon ends.

  12

  Andy tugged the suitcase out of the back seat, and Henry came tumbling out with it.

  Fumbling with the bag of deli takeout, he called, "Wait, buddy. Wait."

  But Henry hadn't learned that word yet, which he proved by bounding across the front yard in pursuit of what turned out to be a disappointing broken branch. When Andy turned his new key in the lock and turned around to call out for the dog, he didn't actually get the chance. Henry flew past him and pushed through the door, his paws scraping across the hardwood floor as he headed straight into the kitchen.

  A pastel square stuck to the front of the refrigerator caught Andy's eye.

  Dog food and bowls in pantry. Staples for dog owner in fridge. No unnecessary messes out of either of you, please. S.

  Andy grinned and surveyed the contents of the refrigerator. It looked like someone's art project: bottles of water and protein drinks meticulously stacked; red and green apples, oranges, a couple of tomatoes, and a bag of seedless grapes in the transparent crisper; four cartons of yogurt lined up like

  soldiers guarding half a gallon of milk, a tub of fake butter, some wrapped deli meats, and a package of provolone cheese. Standing alone in the center of the top shelf, just begging for a spotlight or special introduction . . . a jar of his favorite blackberry jam.

  Sherilyn was nothing if not thorough.

  He wondered if her attention to detail on his behalf was performed out of devotion or simply to make a point. Either way, it looked like she still intended to occupy this house with him, and for the last twenty-four hours, he'd waivered a bit on where she stood on that.

  It couldn't have been easy for Sherilyn to hear that he'd been keeping a secret, even one that hadn't amounted to anything more than a couple of chance encounters with Maya, but in the end, she had appeared almost dignified as she nodded and accepted the kiss he'd offered. She hadn't removed her engagement ring or raised her voice, and he hadn't been slapped, so Andy figured he'd come out on the longer end of the deal. He'd give her time. They would ride the current back into the natural flow of their relationship. Everything would be normal again soon.

  At least, he hoped it would.

  Henry growled, and Andy glanced into the family room to find him rolling around on the sectional couch, burrowing his nose under one of the cushions.

  "Hey, cut it out."

  Pulling the bag of dog food from the pantry produced enough familiar noise to distract him, and Henry lunged across the room and skidded into Andy's feet. Andy filled one of the bowls and placed it on the floor, then ran tap water into the other.

  Henry sniffed at the colorful kibbles, then turned and looked at Andy over his shoulder.

  "It's dog food. You're a dog. Bon appetit."

  He lapped up nearly half of the water in the bowl, then shook his head so that the leftovers showered the floor, the cabinet, the refrigerator, and Andy's leg.

  "Oh, you are going to drive Sherilyn insane."

  Henry looked up at him and panted; he appeared to be laughing at the notion.

  "You won't find it so funny when she gives me the It's-meor-the-dog speech and you find yourself packing your bags and heading out the door." The dog cocked his head. "Okay then. You'd better start working on your manners."

  To which Henry replied with a juicy doggie belch.

  Andy knew what he'd find when he tried the television remote, but he
pushed the button anyway. Nothing. He tossed it to the other end of the sofa and sat down. Pulling the coffee table toward him, he unloaded the deli bag upon it. Russian roast beef . . . cole slaw . . . garlic pickle. Pulling back the tab on a cola, he downed half of it and set the can on the table as nearly one hundred pounds of nose, paws, and fur hopped up beside him, expectantly eyeing his roast beef sandwich.

  "Forget it."

  Whimper.

  "Not a chance, bud."

  Whine.

  One blue eye twinkled, while a brown one glistened. Andy had never noticed how adorable the Old English Sheepdog breed could be. Henry panted, and his pink tongue flopped out of one side of his mouth, giving the appearance of a lopsided dog grin.

  With a shrug, Andy pulled a strip of meat from his sandwich and tossed it toward the dog. Henry snapped it out of the air and happily gulped it down.

  "Now, go away. That's all you get."

  Henry shifted but made no move to leave, instead watching with great fascination every bite Andy took.

  "I'm sure you won't like this," he said of the pickle. But when he offered a bite of it to the dog, Henry chomped it right down. "Really? Huh. I wouldn't have guessed."

  After securing the dinner trash in a plastic bag on the kitchen counter, Andy headed upstairs with Henry close at his heels. Thoughts of rummaging through boxes for a blanket and a pillow turned to sweet-smelling gratitude as he passed through the doorway to the bedroom and found an inviting fully-made bed there to greet him.

  He pulled the phone from his pocket and flipped it open, pressing #1 on the speed dial.

  After several rings, Sherilyn answered, breathless. "'lo."

  "Is this a bad time?"

  "Uh-huh."

  "Okay, I can call back later. I just wanted—"

  "Emma. Torture."

  He chuckled. "What?"

  "We're hiking," Emma called out to him from the distance.

  "And your fiancée is a wuss."

  "L-leg cramp."

  Andy laughed. "Where are you?"

  "Vickery Creek Trail. Long. High."

  "Wuss," he heard Emma taunt.

  "Hey, I just wanted to thank you for making up the bed, and for buying the groceries."

  "Oh. Yeah. Good."

  "Are you going to be all right?" he asked, only slightly in jest. "You don't sound good."

  "Yeah. After the heart attack, I should be—" She coughed and wheezed. "—just dandy. Don't worry about me. I'm sure the paramedics will take very good care."

  "See you tomorrow?"

  "Could be. If I live through today."

  Andy chuckled again. "Love you."

  "Yep." And with that, she groaned and disconnected the call.

  He picked up the card on the nightstand and dialed the number across the top of it, wondering what had brought on such an uncharacteristic outing. Sherilyn was hardly the athletic, hiking-the-great-outdoors kind of girl.

  "Yes. I'd like to schedule an appointment to have my cable hooked up. As soon as possible, please."

  Henry panted out a grin of agreement.

  Sherilyn debated much longer than usual about what to wear that night. Consequently, she sent Andy ahead to the ballroom while she changed into one last option; this time, a dark raspberry chiffon Notte by Marchesa gown she'd bought on sale at Bergdorf Goodman the last time she'd been to New York City. She thanked God that it still zipped and studied the one-shouldered sweetheart neckline in the mirror. The flowy nature of the gown did a nice job in camouflaging anything extra she might have added beneath that empire waist.

  She fluffed her curls and decided on the ruby earrings Gavin had given her on her last Christmas in Atlanta; they were a little dangly for her normal tastes, but the gown seemed to invite it. She slipped one foot into a Kate Spade Lalita crepe sandal and turned it slightly to get a good look in the mirror; a girl needed all angles to make sure about swelling. Four puffy black bows draped a leather T-strap slingback, showing off her champagne frosted toenails; no swelling in sight, thank the Lord. She checked her lips before dropping a

  tube of Raspberry Ice gloss into her favorite crystal and clear beaded minaudière.

  When she reached the lobby, Gavin's telltale laughter drew her toward the restaurant instead of down the hall to the ballroom. Just before she reached the entrance, however, a clamplike grip snatched hold of her arm. The shriek in her throat never made its way up and out before she was yanked into the consultation room only a hair before the door slammed shut behind her. Her heart pounding, she spun to find Fee clinging to her firmly.

  "Fee! What are you doing? You scared me half to death!"

  "Dude. Wow. You look great. But tell the truth. Do I look like a pageant contestant?"

  Sherilyn chuckled and took a step back, looking Fee over from head to toe. Her raven hair barely touched her shoulders in full waves, and her lips shimmered with ruby gloss. She'd never seen this side of Fee before.

  Her pale taupe satin dress was ruched at the top, drawn in at her narrow waist by a black velvet belt with a rhinestone buckle. The knee-length skirt was overlaid with black velvet spotted tulle, and she wore short black gloves with rhinestone buttons at the wrist, simple black pumps, and a velvet shawl.

  "Oh, Fee, you look beautiful."

  "Don't placate," Fee warned. "I need the truth before it's too late."

  "That is the truth, I swear. You look really lovely."

  Fee shifted to one foot, her hand on her hip, a thoughtful grimace pasted to her face.

  Outside the door, Sherilyn heard Andy's voice as he greeted Gavin.

  "Have you seen Sherilyn yet?"

  "I haven't. I'm just on my way into the ballroom, though," Gavin replied. "If I see her, I'll let her know you're looking for her."

  Suddenly, Fee's hand clenched Sherilyn's arm again as she whispered, "Grab him."

  "What? Who?"

  "Andy. Get him in here." She nodded toward the door before adding, "Quietly. Don't let anyone see."

  "You want Andy?"

  "Get him in here," she repeated through clenched teeth.

  Sherilyn shook her head and opened the door slightly just as Andy reached her.

  "Sheril—"

  "Shh," she interrupted him. "Come in here a minute, will you?" When he paused, she rolled her hand at him. "Come in."

  He complied with a big grin on his face, and he wrapped his arms around her waist the moment he stepped inside.

  "No, no," she said, pushing him away with a giggle. "We're not alone."

  Andy seemed startled when he looked up to find Fee standing there.

  "I need a guy's opinion," she said seriously, and she waved her hands from the top of her dress to the tips of her shoes. "Hot? Or so not?"

  Andy looked to Sherilyn. "I'm sorry. What?"

  "Fee has a very important date tonight. With Sean. And she'd like to know if you, being a man, find her attractive."

  He looked like he was just about to burst into laughter, and Sherilyn gave him a quick shake of her head.

  "Seriously?" he asked.

  "Yes."

  He looked at Fee with a raised eyebrow.

  "I'm not asking you for a date," she reassured him. "I just want to know if I look like someone you'd want to. Date, that is."

  "Oh." With one more quick glance at Sherilyn, Andy's face turned completely serious as he looked Fee over. "Well," he said, folding his arms, "I think . . . you look exquisite. Katy Perry meets that chick, Abby, on NCIS. Yeah. Yeah, I'd absolutely ask you for a date."

  Sherilyn felt her heart pinch a little as Fee melted down into relieved schoolgirl for no more than an instant. "Really?"

  "Really. You're a knockout."

  "I told you," Sherilyn confirmed. "Now, where are you meeting him?"

  "Outside the ballroom."

  "Let's go then. You can walk with us."

  "No, no," she said, shaking her head. "You two go ahead. I just need a couple of minutes, and I'll see you there."

 
"You're sure?"

  "Yeah. Yeah, go. I'm good."

  Andy opened the door for Sherilyn, and Fee grabbed his arm. "Listen, uh. Thanks."

  "Any time, Beautiful. You're going to knock his socks off." She bit her lip. "Promise?"

  "Guaranteed."

  Sherilyn softly closed the door behind them, leaving Fee alone in the tiny consultation room. She looped her arm through Andy's and smiled.

  "You're a very sweet man."

  He tipped his head into a partial shrug, and he squeezed Sherilyn's hand. "You look like a million bucks tonight, by the way. Outfit number sixty-eight gets my thumbs-up."

  "This old thing? I'm so glad."

  When they'd almost reached the ballroom, he leaned down toward her and whispered, "I want you steering clear of Sean tonight. Apparently, he has special powers I'm not enthused about."

  "Only for Fee," she replied. "You've got all the special powers I need."

  "Happy to hear it."

  A banner over the ballroom door announced the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric AIDS Foundation as the beneficiary of the night's events, and red and gold balloons punctuated the reminder for each guest entering. Andy presented their tickets to a woman with bright orange lipstick, and she checked them against a list before handing them a large white envelope with table numbers written across the front.

  Sherilyn spotted Emma's mother, and her heart palpitated a little. Avery Travis lit up the room in her beaded blue gown and elegant grace. Gavin stood at her side, and he caught Sherilyn's eye right away.

  "Avery, look who's here."

  Avery's beautiful face rose into a welcoming smile as she opened her arms. "I'm so sorry I haven't gotten over to see you," she said as they embraced. "Emma tells me you fit right in here at Jackson's hotel."

  "I hope so," she replied. "It's so good to see you again."

  "And this must be your fiancé."

  "Yes! Andy, meet Emma's mom, Avery."

  "It's a pleasure," he said as Avery kissed his cheek.

  "Your mother can't say enough about you, Andy. She's so happy to have you back in Atlanta."

  "My mother? I didn't know you knew my mother."