by Peggy Dulle
“And the other?”
“Church wedding, country club reception.”
“I have to compete with an awfully nice event. Your relatives will think you are marrying beneath you.”
“My relatives all got drunk at the wedding and Uncle Scott fell against the arbor before the wedding even started. I should have realized that it was an omen.” He laughed, then continued, “Besides they will all love you. I don’t think they ever felt that way about Pamela.”
“Why?”
“She was from the country club set and I wasn’t. Neither is my family.”
“What about the food?”
“Anything but little tiny portions that look cute, but you are still hungry afterwards and have to hit the first fast food restaurant after the reception.”
“And the cake?”
“Chocolate.”
I laughed. “On that, we totally agree.”
“Anything other questions?” he asked.
“No, that completes the wedding planner’s list.”
“Great, I’m still wearing a gray tux, right?”
“Yes. What about a cummerbund?”
“No, Pamela made us wear these stupid red ones. She said it matched the invitations but we looked like idiots.”
I had thought a red cummerbund would look nice with my bouquet, but I scratched that idea. “I’ll put Kenny, Jordan and Julie in black, too. That will make Jordan happy.”
“You can put Kenny in red if you want.”
“Tom,” I said.
“Just kidding …, a little,” he added. “I do have one request, though.”
“What?”
“Would you leave your hair down? Every bride always wears their hair up in a silly bun. I like yours down.”
“Of course, Tom, I prefer my hair down, too.”
Savanah came back into the room and I said, “Okay, that’s it for now, Tom. Thanks.”
“No, thank you for taking on this event. If you need any more help, let me know.”
“Bye, Tom.”
“Love you, Liza.”
“I love you, too.” I told him and ended the call.
“How’d you do?” Savanah asked.
I pointed to the invitation, then said, “This is the one we want with a red writing and I’ll go with white bougainvilleas with a splash of red in them, large portions of food and chocolate cake.”
“That’s a good choice on the invitations, but I wouldn’t go with too bright of a red color. You want a contrast to your hair, not to match it. Maybe a red with a little pink in it or go more toward the purple red color.”
“Okay,” I told her.
“While you were talking to Tom, I found two places for us to see tomorrow. They are both available on the date you want. There are advantages and disadvantages to both. They both do the entire package, but on one you’ll be married outside in their garden and then go inside for the reception. The other is more of a garden atmosphere. It’s pretty with a huge fountain. My only worry is if the weather is horribly hot, they can put up tents and bring in fans but that’s it.”
“What time do you want to go out there tomorrow?”
“How about I pick you up at nine?”
“That’s perfect.”
“I have written up a contract for you to sign and then you’re free to go wedding-dress hunting the rest of the day. You need to find it as soon as possible. You’ll have to buy off the rack, so the dress will need to be cleaned and possibly altered.”
I signed the contract, thanked Savanah, and got up to leave.
“It’s always good to have someone to take with you dress shopping, Liza. I know your sister lives in New York and your mom is dead. Do you have anyone to go dress shopping with you? How about your maid of honor?”
“My maid of honor, who is actually my best friend and a guy, is in Nashville for the next two weeks.”
“Oh,” she said. “How about calling up a couple of your girlfriends?”
I thought about calling Julie, but she was on another singles cruise. My girlfriends from work were all on their summer vacations and I didn’t want to bother them, although I knew they would come and help me. “I think I’ll just go by myself this first time and then if I find a few dresses I like, I’ll get someone to come along.”
“I’m free the rest of the afternoon, would you like me to come along and help?”
“No, I don’t want to bother you.”
“It’s no bother. I’d do anything to help out Jordan’s sister.”
“How about we go to a few places and then I’ll treat you to lunch,” I suggested.
“That would be great. We both have to eat and it will give me a chance to check out a few of the new local bridal boutiques. I’ll be actually working.”
“Great. You want to drive or shall I?” I asked.
“I’ll let you drive since my car is in the shop. And I’ll be the navigator since I know where the shops are.”
This was great. Savanah not only had great taste, was competent and knowledgeable, she was very nice. This whole wedding might just go off without a hitch.
The shop was in Walnut Creek. As we walked through the door, Savanah introduced herself and handed them her business card and I started to browse the racks. I flipped through a few dresses then my eyes set on an off the shoulder, satin ball gown with an embroidered chiffon covering dotted with crystals. It was daring and gorgeous with buttons down the back and a long train.
Savanah and the saleswoman came over to me.
“Those are our vintage designer dresses. Aren’t they lovely?”
“Yes.”
Savanah put her hand on my arm and said, “Designer means expensive, Liza. These gowns are all several thousand dollars. Is that what you’re looking at spending?”
I pushed the dress back on the rack and said, “No, I’d like to spend less than $1000, if I can.”
“Okay,” Savanah said. The saleswoman immediately started doting on me. She took me over to a chair, offered me some water, tea, coffee or juice and then she and Savanah discussed wedding styles. I guess it was good to come with someone who might send more business their way.
Since I had no idea what I wanted, they brought a variety of dresses. It was the invitation books all over again: mermaid or trumpet dress, A-line or princess dress, the empire wedding dress, sheath or column wedding dress, and the ball gown dress. Too many choices and I saw at least five of each. Some had lots of lace and intricate designs, where others were simpler. Savanah was in her element shaking her head no and yes as they brought out each dress. I just sat and watched in amazement.
I liked the ball gown dresses but Savanah vetoed them right away, saying my body type was wrong for them. She liked the mermaid style, which I hated. I didn’t want to feel like Ariel. We finally settled on A-line dresses. Savanah announced that it was the most forgiving of all the dress types and that it would be a good fit for my body. I liked them because they were tight on the top and then flared out, hiding some of my belly fat. I wanted a really long train but Savanah said a cathedral train was inappropriate for an outdoor wedding and that I should go with a shorter one. She definitively had her own opinions.
After trying on dress after dress, I finally found one that I liked and Savanah approved of. It had a round neck, short sleeves, and a chapel train. The dress’s bodice and sleeves were sprinkled with diamond shaped beading. It was beautiful and when I tried it on, I sighed and smiled.
“That’s exactly the way you should feel about your wedding dress,” Savanah said. “Now let’s talk about head pieces.”
“Do I have to wear one?” I asked.
“Yes, even if it’s a short one. Every bride needs a head piece. Now you can have one that covers your face or not.”
“I don’t want my face covered but can I have a long veil?”
“No. Then you won’t see the back of this beautiful dress.”
Savanah told the sales clerk what to bring and she did.
The clerk handed her the band and she handed it to me. “Pull your hair away from your face and then we can see how the veil is going to look.”
“Can’t I wear my hair down?” I asked.
“No, every bride puts her hair up.”
Tom wanted my hair down. Well, he could just have fun taking it out of the bun later in the day.
After trying on what felt like a hundred veils, Savanah and I finally decided on a beaded headband that matched the beading on the dress and a mid-back veil with some of the same beading on its edges. It was beautiful, although I wouldn’t have chosen it in a million years. I guess that’s why you bring someone else along. You don’t know you’ll like something until you try it on.
“How much is all this going to cost me? I didn’t see any prices on any of the dresses.”
“I’ll ask the sales clerk.” Savanah got up and left the room.
I stood in the middle of all those mirrors and twirled. I had to admit I looked wonderful – just as a bride should on her wedding day. I continued to twirl and run the wedding day in my mind. I could see Tom standing under an arbor waiting for me and my dad walking me down the aisle and giving me to Tom.
The cost was in my budget so I paid the clerk, got a receipt and left all of the items at the bridal boutique. I would pick them all up the day before the wedding.
We left the bridal boutique and I asked Savanah, “What would you like for lunch?”
“I am good with anything. What would you like?”
“How about Panera’s? I enjoy their food and rarely get to eat it. When you teach you just don’t have time to go out to lunch, but I am not sure there is one here in Walnut Creek.”
“No, problem. That’s why they developed the smartphone.” Savanah typed a few things into her phone and smiled. “Yes it’s over on Locust Street.”
“You navigate and I’ll drive,” I told her.
Panera was tucked next to a Starbucks and was decorated just like the one in San Ramon. I guess it must be cheaper to have one design plan and follow it in every place. I always forget how nice downtown Walnut Creek is with all its little shops and eateries.
I ordered a bowl of chicken noodle soup and a tomato and mozzarella cheese panini and Savanah ordered a chopped chicken Cobb salad with avocado. At first, I thought I should switch my order. After all, I was getting married in a few weeks and didn’t want to have the dress altered to a bigger size. But after I got a look at her salad with Gorgonzola cheese, several hard-boiled eggs, bacon and an entire avocado, I figured there was probably more calories in her salad than my soup and sandwich.
The weather was warm but not hot, so we sat outside under a striped umbrella to enjoy our lunch.
“So Savanah, did you always want to be a wedding planner?” I asked, between spoonfuls of soup laden with huge pieces of chicken and noodles.
“Actually, I got a degree in business and was working at a bank until my sister decided to get married. She worked full time as a nurse and went to school at night to get her masters. She had to move her wedding date up because her husband was going to be deployed to Iraq and she needed some help. I took over and planned the entire event. It was fun and everyone had a great time. I got a loan from my bank, quit my job and opened up my business.”
“Do you keep pretty busy?”
“I have at least ten clients at any one time and I’m pretty busy.”
“Well, I appreciate you taking me on. It was short notice, after all.”
“I would do anything for Jordan’s sister.”
“Were you that close in high school?” I asked.
“No, not really, but I try to keep in touch with my high school classmates and give them my help when I can.”
“That’s nice of you.”
“So tell me what your fiancé is like,” she asked.
“Tom’s a cop.”
“Oh, rather controlling, isn’t he?”
“You must have dated a cop once?” I suggested.
“No not really, but I have done weddings for a few. I bet he told you he didn’t care what you choose but then when you told him, he had an opinion on everything.”
I laughed. “You’ve got him pegged.”
“Well, I’m sure everything will be just right for the both of you.”
We were finished eating, so I paid the bill and Savanah went to use the restroom. When she returned, we picked up and disposed of the trays.
“Can you do me a favor, Liza?” she asked.
“Of course. What do you need?”
“I told you my car was in the shop, right?”
I nodded.
“They called while I was in the restroom. Don’t you hate answering your phone when you’re in the bathroom?”
I laughed. “Yes and calls that you are waiting for always seem to happen just as you step into the stall.”
“Yes, they do. They called and said my car won’t be ready until tomorrow. Can you give me a ride home?”
“Now?”
“Yeah, I can work from home and pick up the messages from the answering machine without going into the office.”
“What about tomorrow? You were going to drive out to Modesto.”
“I’ll give you a call in the morning. If my car is ready, they’ll come and get me. If not, you may have to pick me up and drive. Is that okay?”
“Of course. Where do you live?”
“In a duplex in San Ramon.”
“Where?”
“It’s on Shadow Mountain Court. Do you know where it is?”
I laughed.
“What?”
“I live in one of those duplexes, too.” I told her. “It’s a small world.”
“Every time someone says something about six degrees of separation, I think they’re wrong. I don’t think there is more than three with most people.”
“That’s true.” I drove home. Savanah lived in one of the duplexes with an open carport rather than a garage like mine. But she wasn’t more than a mile from my house.
I dropped her off and went home. Shelby met me at the door.
I pet her quickly and said, “Wait a minute girl, I’ve got to go to the bathroom. I shouldn’t have drank so much tea at lunch.”
I ran into the bathroom and threw my purse on the vanity. As soon as I sat down, my cell phone rang. I laughed remembering Savanah’s and my conversation. I let it go to voice mail. Then I spent some time with Shelby in the backyard, throwing a ball. She loved to play fetch. After a few minutes, I went into the living room and decided to watch a DVD. I put in the first of the Die Hard series and then remembered my phone and the call earlier.
I got my purse back out of the bathroom and checked the missed call. There were three from Tom but no voice mail. If it’s important enough to call three times, why doesn’t he leave a message?
I dialed his number. He answered on the first ring.
“What the hell, Liza? Why didn’t you tell me that Kenny killed someone?”
Chapter 12
It was that tone and I hung up, threw the phone onto the couch and went back outside to play fetch with Shelby. Obviously, Tom put Kenny’s name into his cop computer. I wasn’t surprised. Tom ran everyone through his cop computer. I knew exactly what Tom was referring to and really didn’t want to discuss it with him. It wasn’t any of his business. It was Kenny’s.
It had happened when we were sophomores. It was his mom’s loser boyfriend, the one before Earl. His name was Woody, and he went after Kenny’s mother with a butcher knife. Kenny stepped between them and used one of the moves I showed him that my dad had taught me when I was only twelve. When someone comes at you with a knife, you lean back, sucking in your stomach, making them fully extend their arms, then you grab their wrist and turn the knife back at them.
Kenny had done the maneuver exactly correctly and ran the knife into Woody’s body. When Woody went after him, he used the knife to st
op him. It was ruled self-defense, but Kenny still went to a therapist for six months. It was a waste of time. Kenny was fine. He had done it to protect his mom and never told them who taught him the maneuver. He told the cops he learned it on television in one of the cop shows. We had a great laugh about that.
When I came into the house again, I had seven missed calls from Tom and a voice mail.
I played the voicemail, “I’m sorry Liza. It just scared me when I read the police report. Could you please answer the phone the next time I call?”
The phone rang three seconds later.
“Hello, Tom,” I said.
“Hello, Liza.”
“Did you put Kenny into that little computer of yours?” I asked even though I knew the answer.
“I put everyone in it, Liza. You know that.”
“I could have told you about Woody. He was a biker guy with tattoos all over his body and a total ass.”
“That’s what the police report says, too.”
“Then what’s the problem? It was self-defense.”
“He stabbed the guy five times.”
I didn’t ever know the exact number, but I knew it was more than once. “The court ruled it self-defense, so again I ask, what’s the problem?”
“There is a difference between reasonable force, excessive force and lethal force. Stabbing someone a few times because they are after you or you are trying to stop them, might be deemed reasonable force, but not five times. It’s like bringing a gun to a knife fight.”
“That sounds like a good idea to me, less chance of the person with the gun getting hurt.”
“Do you know that Earl was stabbed ten times?”
“No man deserved it more,” I said.
“Don’t you see a pattern there?”
“What? Stupid abusive loser men getting stabbed. Yeah, I see it. Karma is a bitch.”
“No, men associated with Kenny get stabbed.”
“Kenny was on his way to Arkansas when Earl got into the bar fight.”
“Who says?”
“Kenny says and I believe him. He would never lie to me.”
“Did you specifically ask him whether he killed Earl?”
“No, why would I? I repeat he was on his way to Arkansas with his mom when Earl was killed.”