They really thought her shirt was see-through.
Needless to say, they were disappointed.
Scattered on the ivory lace are millions of little ivory iridescent sequins, which, I see now that I get it out of the box, are not ivory, but more golden, almost the exact color of my hair. The sequins shimmer when I move the dress.
The cut of the dress is, well, pretty damn sexy, and it isn’t even on my body yet! The top part of it is a halter. It’s cut low in the front, and the skirt is straight and short.
I can’t wait to try this thing on. I sure hope it fits!
I put the dress on, and it fits like a glove. The neckline plunges down and shows off my um, assets, and the skirt makes me look skinny. I love it! I grab the satin and rhinestone sandals I wore to Danny and Lori’s wedding and put them on.
Ashley and I look at my reflection in the mirror.
“Now, you look perfect!” Ashley beams. And that is a really good thing, because Ashley is not a very complimentary person. I mean she doesn’t give out many compliments. So I must look good.
Very good.
I look at myself in the mirror. One more time!
It’s amazing! This dress is perfect. It’s sexy, demure, wild, and creative, all at the same time.
Just like me.
Phillip will love it.
“Where did you get this dress?” I gush.
“I didn’t get it. Phillip did.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, believe it or not, he did. My brother, the guy who bought me Scooby Doo slippers last Christmas, bought this amazing dress. I didn’t think he had it in him. Evidently, he saw it a few weeks ago when he was in Kansas City visiting Danny and Lori. He had Lori go back to the store and buy it.”
He did?
Wow! I should take him shopping with me more often. I didn’t know he could find such great stuff.
Ashley hands me my glass.
Another toast, God forbid.
Then she gives me another package to open. “Hurry, open this.”
She is getting awfully bossy now, but I know she can’t really help herself because that trait definitely runs in the family.
I open the package and inside is a silver link bracelet.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, as I start to put it on.
“Wait,” she says, and hands me a smaller box.
I open the little box and inside is a charm. It’s a rose.
“Here, let me put it on for you,” she says, snatching them out of my hands.
I just stand and watch. She gets the bracelet and the charm the way she wants it and puts it on my wrist.
“Alright, the limo is waiting for you. You better get out there.” She looks at me like she’s never going to see me again. She is really acting weird.
“Thanks, Ash, for everything,” I say, as I give her a hug.
Then she gets all teary-eyed.
What’s going on with her?
I’d blame it on PMS, but I hate when I have important feelings that are glossed over as PMS. So I won’t.
“Um, isn’t Phillip going to come get me at the door? I mean the flowers, the dress, the champagne, the bracelet, and he isn’t even going to walk up to the door and get me? What? Is he just going to honk and wait in the car? Jake used to do that. It drove my dad and Phillip nuts. They said it meant he didn’t respect me.”
Obviously, they were right.
As if on cue, the limo honks.
“I told you. Phillip isn’t in the limo, JJ. He’s meeting you . . . um, somewhere . . . else. You need to go!”
Okay! So, I’m going.
I take a deep breath, but then I stop quickly to smell my roses and realize that in all the excitement, I haven’t opened the card.
I open it quick.
The card has no signature. There is just a big heart drawn in the middle. I still have no idea what the heart means exactly, but it really makes me smile.
“JJ, stop stalling, you really have to go, or you will be late for . . . ”
“Late for what?” I ask, holding my heart card up to my chest.
“Um, for your dinner reservations,” she tells me, but I get the feeling she’s not being 100% truthful.
“Yeah. Whatever,” I say to myself, as I walk to the limo. The driver opens the door for me, and I ask where we’re going, where we’ll meet Phillip. The limo driver just shrugs, tells me to have a glass of champagne, and enjoy the ride.
More champagne. Yikes.
The whole limo thing is really a surprise and, I must say, I like it! I know Phillip wants this date to be special and to make an impression.
Although, I have to say, he was pretty impressive last night, but I really probably shouldn’t talk about that.
Where was I? Oh, yeah. Spa and flowers and jewelry.
Like lions, and tigers, and bears, oh my!
Sorry. You know, I often wonder what incredible things my mind could hold if it weren’t filled up with lines from every movie I have ever seen.
Anyway. Wow!
He really has gone to an awful lot of trouble and expense for this. So I fully intend to enjoy it and maybe try to repay him later.
I pour myself a flute of champagne, take a sip, lean back, and enjoy the ride. We head out of the city, eventually to the town, and then the housing addition, where we grew up. Before I know it, we are at our old grade school.
The limo driver stops the car, walks around to the other side, and opens my door.
He obviously expects me to get out.
So I get out, look at him in confusion and say, “Now what?”
“Walk back to the swings,” he says, after consulting a list from his pocket.
Remind me to get my hands on that list later.
I look down at my light dress and satin shoes, and then I look at him like, Are you nuts, boy?
He ignores my look, so I say, “Are you sure? I don’t think I should go back there. My shoes will get dirty.”
Actually, I kind of whine.
“You have to.”
Oh, really? I think.
This is ridiculous. It makes no sense. Why would Phillip get me all gorgeous, buy me a beautiful dress, and then send me out into the dirt?
Then it dawns on me why I’m here.
Our first kiss. Ohhhh, that’s so sweet.
He must be meeting me here.
I run down the dirt path that curls around the building, not even worrying about my shoes. I expect to find Phillip waiting for me on the swings, but am disappointed to see only a boy swinging. I walk over, sit down on the swing next to him, and sigh.
Hopefully the swing doesn’t get my dress dirty.
“Now what?” I mutter to myself.
To my surprise, the little boy stops swinging and says, “Here.” He hands me a little wrapped package and runs away.
I look around in all directions, figuring Phillip is bound to turn up. But he doesn’t, so I open the package. Inside is another charm, a swing. How cute.
I add it to the bracelet and figure what the heck? I’m already sitting on it, swinging on it isn’t going to get me any dirtier.
So I start swinging, and pretty soon I’m swinging as high as I can. I close my eyes and let my stomach go all fluttery. I’m really enjoying myself until I hear that damn limo driver honking his horn at me.
I’ve already had about enough of his rude honking.
Maybe I’ll have a word with him when I get out there. But as I walk back, I decide I look much too beautiful to get all pissed off, so I just get into the limo.
We don’t go very far, because our next stop is Phillip’s house. Finally, I get to see my date. Unfortunately, when we pull in the driveway, I notice that Phillip’s car isn’t there.
Shoot.
The nazi limo driver comes around again, opens my door and says, “Go inside.”
Doesn’t this man know that I hate being told what to do?
I swear, if I weren’t relying on him for my transportat
ion, I would tell him to knock it off! I look straight at him and scream, KNOCK IT OFF, in my mind, and it makes me feel a little better.
I barely get to the front door, when it swings open to reveal Phillip’s parents.
“Oh, JJ!” Julie cries. “You look beautiful!”
I notice that she and Mr. Mac are very dressed up.
“Wow! You guys look great yourselves. Where are you going all dressed up?”
“Oh, there’s a fundraiser at the Piedmont tonight. We’re just getting ready to head there,” Doug tells me.
The Piedmont?
“Did you know Phillip and I are having dinner there?”
“Um, uh, no, we didn’t. The View is a wonderful restaurant though. I’m sure you’ll have a great time, dear.”
“This is for you,” she says, thrusting a box into my hand and deftly changing the subject.
I open it and there—surprise, surprise—is another charm. This one is a heart with little red stones scattered around the edges.
“Thanks,” I say, and before I can hug her, Mr. Mac hands me another box. I open it. It’s a red capital N, for Nebraska football. “I love it,” I say, and give them both big hugs.
“Oh, JJ, I wish your mother were here to see you tonight,” she gushes and looks like she’s going to cry. “You look just perfect.”
That’s nice, but come on, people, it’s a first date. We probably don’t need to go getting all emotional just yet. I know Phillip is going to a lot of trouble, but, um, how ’bout we get past, like, the second date, before we go getting all teary-eyed.
She gives me another hug, just as the nazi limo driver honks his horn again.
“That’s my ride. And he’s so polite. Um, do you guys know if I’m ever going to see my date? Did Phillip tell you where he’s meeting me?”
“Oh, Doug, look at the time,” Mrs. Mac says, glancing at her watch. “We’ve got to get going.”
They hustle me out the front door and into the limo without answering my question.
I lean back in my seat, let out a big sigh, and decide to have some more champagne. Is it just me, or are all the Mackenzies acting a little strange about this whole first date thing?
Is something going on here?
I feel like I’m missing something. It’s nowhere near my birthday. And it’s not like they are coming on our date—surely, he wouldn’t have invited them. No. He said romantic. I must just be paranoid. They are simply excited that Phillip and I are finally together. And that’s a nice thing. I wouldn’t want to have in-laws who didn’t like me.
God, there I go again. Actually thinking about marrying Phillip. Although, I guess it’s not that big a deal. I remember in high school always trying on a boy’s last name, to see if it sounded okay. If it fit. Trying on a last name is very important because you wouldn’t want to fall in love with some guy, only to find out that your name would end up something weird or all rhymey like Mary Barry, or worse, something gross like Jenny Tayla or Amanda Lick.
Okay, so let’s see. Just for fun.
Jadyn Reynolds-Mackenzie.
No. Too long.
JJ Mackenzie.
Jadyn James Mackenzie.
Not bad. Doable, I’d say.
All of a sudden, the driver stops the car. I look out to see that we are . . . uh, where are we? I peer out the windows in all directions and determine that we are . . . definitely in the middle of nowhere.
Like, all I can see is a gravel road and lots of corn.
Great, the limo driver is probably some psychotic serial killer, and now he’s brought me out here to finish me off. Just as I’m thinking about my options, he startles me by lowering the window separating us. It’s been up the entire trip.
Crap.
My purse wasn’t big enough for pepper spray. Now what?
I smile at him sort of nervously. He smiles back and hands me a little box.
I open it and see that it’s a cross charm.
I look outside again and realize that this is probably the exact spot where Phillip pulled off the road and yelled at me before his dad called us on the night my parents died. Well, actually, I may have yelled at him.
Hmm.
Not a particularly happy memory, but a strong one nonetheless. And definitely a time in my life when Phillip was there for me. He was my rock. I don’t think I could have gotten through it without him.
I feel the car go forward, as the driver rolls the partition up.
Yippee. Maybe he’s not going to kill me.
We drive for about half an hour. I can see that we are going back toward Omaha, and it even appears we are headed downtown.
Hopefully to the Piedmont and my date.
I look at my bracelet full of charms and think, this is nice and all, but doesn’t it seem like a bit much for a first date?
Actually, it seems like a bit much for any date. Although, I don’t think I could even categorize this as a date yet. Because technically, it takes two people to have a date, and I refuse to count the limo driver.
This has been more like a scavenger hunt.
Not exactly the romantic evening I had in mind.
Maybe this thing with Phillip isn’t going to work out.
Where the *&%# is that boy??
The limo driver pulls up to the Piedmont. The Piedmont is the coolest hotel in town. It’s in an old historic building that has been completely renovated. The doorman opens my door. I slide out and look around for Phillip.
Shit.
I don’t see him, so I walk inside. I’ve never gotten to stay at this hotel, but if the lobby is any indication the rooms must be beautiful. The lobby has a huge, high, old-fashioned tin ceiling. There are marble columns and crown molding that must be at least two feet thick.
A bellman walks over to me and hands me a note card.
What is this? And how the hell does he know who I am?
Just go with the flow, Jay, I tell myself, trying to stay calm.
I read the note. It says, Take the elevator to the 16th floor.
No signature. No heart.
I get on the elevator and see from the sign that the restaurant is on the 16th floor.
I am telling you, if Phillip isn’t there, I’m done with this date because I’m sick and tired of being on it alone!
The elevator doors open to a dimly lit hall that leads into the restaurant.
Still no Phillip.
Damn that boy!
Where the hell is he?
I mean, I’m not complaining, but I have been on this whole scavenger-hunt-date-extravaganza-thing for over two hours now, and I still haven’t seen my date.
Okay, so maybe I’m complaining a bit, but I can’t help it.
I want to be with him.
The maître d’ is obviously expecting me because he says, “Miss Reynolds, please follow me,” and leads me to a big, cozy, leather-wrapped booth.
And guess what?
Phillip is actually here!
He sees me, gives me a big grin, and stands up. He kisses my cheek sweetly, and then lets me slide into the booth before him.
Finally! Some manners! Much better than the horn-honking, bossy, nazi limo driver I have been spending my time with.
“You’re late,” he says.
I give him an angry look before he kisses me again.
He is teasing me, I think.
Phillip looks very handsome. He’s got on a dark brown suit that matches his eyes. Under the suit, he’s wearing a light blue shirt and a really cool brown, blue, and orange tie. And, I will admit, when I got here I had my panties in a bit of a wad and was kinda irritated at Phillip. But, the minute I look at him, it all melts away. I’m pretty sure that means I do love him.
“You look incredible,” he tells me.
And I’m pretty sure he means it because his eyes are just riveted on me.
It makes me feel both nervous and powerful at the same time.
I think I could get away with just about anything in this dress.
Hmm. Maybe I’ll give it a try.
“Well,” I tell him, shaking my head, “I have been having quite the date without you. How did you ever find a limo driver that was a former male dancer? He was so cute. It was like having my own mini bachelorette party before our date. It was really nice of you to let me get that out of my system before we get too serious. Thank you so much!” I say very sincerely and very full of shit.
“The limo driver danced for you?” Phillip asks in disbelief. For a second, I see a little jealousy cross that cute face of his.
“Isn’t that why you hired him?” I ask, innocently, trying to control my smile.
“No,” he says angrily, but then sees my smirk, grabs me, kisses me again, and says, “You are so full of shit. I can’t believe I just fell for that.”
I laugh.
It’s good to know I can still get to him.
“Seriously, though, I suppose I should thank you for the limo ride, even though I didn’t like that you weren’t there. And let’s see, the incredible roses, and the spa, and the bracelet, and the dress…”
“I think the dress was for me,” he interrupts. “You look . . . beautiful, incredible, sexy . . . everything.”
Phillip keeps beaming at me. This dress feels practically magical. It may very well be, based on the way he’s looking at me.
It’s like he’s mesmerized, he’s hypnotized . . .
Hey, that reminds me of a movie.
Oh! I know!
Why this car is automatic, it’s systematic, it’s hyyydddrroomatic, why it’s greased lightin’. My mom and I loved to watch Grease. My friends always thought Danny Zuko was so cute, but I preferred Kenickie. Which isn’t a big surprise now that I think about it. I mean, if Phillip had to play one of the T-Birds from Grease, he’d definitely play Kenickie. But only because of how he looks—as in hot—cuz, let’s face it, Kenickie was kind of a jerk, and Phillip is so not.
The waiter comes over and pours us champagne, so I shove the movie and Kenickie to the back of my mind.
“You know, Phillip, I really should eat something before I drink any more.” I barely get the words out of my mouth, when another waiter starts setting an array of appetizers on our table. Phillip has obviously planned out this portion of the date in detail as well.
I immediately dig in.
Kiss Kiss Page 162