by Debbie Civil
Chapter 19
“Chelsea, why don’t you just change your mind? You’re too young to get married,” Mom complains. She’s taken to following me again. I’m sitting in the comfortable recliner eating a plate of fries. Carmen wants to take me to Mary Masson’s to see if any dresses fit. I’m getting married next week. That’s super wild. But it’s actually happening. The best part of this is that I’m getting married at the church in Elmview. The wedding won’t be small. After all, a lot of people love Peter. He’s narrowed his guest list down to 160 people. I, on the other hand, don’t have many people to invite. My guest list is merely fifty people. Eli doesn’t care that we are getting married a month apart. In fact, she seems content to continue pushing the wedding back. I find that a little weird. Peter and I can’t get married quickly enough. The wedding reception will be held at Albert's, a nice restaurant in town. It’s a lot easier that way. I don’t have time to rent a hall, and the flower arrangements are going to consist of purple and white roses and the wedding colors are purple and gold. Luckily, a bride and groom backed out of using the restaurant for a wedding, but had all of the supplies. I wrote the bride a check and that was that. Mom had nothing to do with the wedding planning. She didn’t even help construct the guest list. All she keeps doing is telling me that marrying Peter would be a big mistake. I’m not listening to her. Thanks to my uncle and his more than generous pay out, I don’t need her for anything. I can’t believe that I’m worth 68 million dollars. Mom doesn’t know that yet. Carmen thought it wise not to tell any of the family yet. Justin wired it all into my bank account. As Carmen tells it, his grandfather left him money, and he no longer needs it. Tiller and I were left an equal amount. Tiller is taking it all in stride. Peter and I have decided to give ten percent to the church, 8 million for cancer research, and live off of the rest. We will invest and tuck the bulk away for our future children. And maybe some of it can be used to pay for Peter’s practice. In the end, none of it is going to my parents. They are already trying to weasel me out of the money that Uncle Kenny gave me. Mom has suggested that I should ditch Peter, and we should move to California. She has always loved the idea of moving to L.A. But I refuse to fund her dreams of living the glorious life. She can continue to take scraps from Grandmother. I still can’t forgive her for what she put me and Peter through.
“Hi,” Eli says slowly entering the room. She’s been really cautious around me. I think of having a serious conversation with her. But Mom has been in the way.
“Chelsea, can I talk to you for a moment?” Mom stands with me, and I shoot her a glare.
“Mom, Eli wants to talk to me alone.” She doesn’t budge.
“Chelsea, whatever she has to say to you she can say to me.” Mom stares at Eli as if she’s a bug that needs squashing. Later, I’m going to ask Carmen what I’ve missed.
“It’s about your birthday present,” Eli lies. It’s a good one because Mom’s birthday is in five weeks. Mom leaves the room. Eli sighs.
“Chelsea, I need to apologize to you,” she says and I feel uncomfortable.
“For?”
“I…” Her face falls. “All of this is stupid. My wedding is stupid. It keeps getting pushed back because of all of the drama. Or, that’s what I tell myself. Honestly, I know that Nate and I have to go through with it. But, maybe I’m wrong about Mom,” Eliza says. Her eyes are filled with worry. It takes me a while to remember which mother she’s talking about.
“Cold feet?” I ask, trying to figure out the route to the problem.
“I don’t want this wedding, Chelsea. I want to get married on the beach. But I can’t get my inheritance unless I have a traditional church wedding. “For the first time, I’m relieved that I’m not getting an inheritance from Grandma Betty. There are so many rules attached. If I want to, I can call Peter, and we could drive to Vegas. The money in my possession wouldn’t be taken away from me.
“That sucks. What if you have two weddings?” I muse. Eli frowns as if this hasn’t occurred to her. “One wedding for you and another for everyone else.”
“Then, what would be the point? I would still be stuck getting married in front of a bunch of people I don’t even know. Mom has moved my wedding back again to August. My theory is that she’ll keep pushing it back until I give up,” Eli says, her eyes filling with exhaustion.
“If she moves it back any further, you’ll be getting married when the trials start,” I say which the smartest thing to do isn’t. Eli’s blue eyes widen.
“That’s exactly what Mom’s trying to do. That’s it. I’m taking control.” Eli storms out of the room and disappears around a corner. I sigh, thinking that I’m glad that Mom isn’t planning my wedding. She would probably have done the same thing. I’m getting married on June 26, and it’s staying that way.
Carmen is standing in front of a very puffy monstrosity. I try not to laugh at the hideous design but fail. Grace pinches my arm. Evidently, she’s been living with Rain. They both work at O’Malley’s, and Grace is planning to go to a community college to take her core courses. Rain’s parents are helping her out. Actually, I’m helping her out. I knew Grace wouldn’t have taken the money from me. So I gave my Aunt and Uncle the money and had them offer it to Grace if she does chores around the house. My wedding party consists of Carmen, Rain, Grace, Eli, Danny Olivia, and Tia. Of course, Rain is my maid of honor. I’ve known her the best, and we promised each other when we were nine.
“What about this one?” Carmen asks, trying to keep a straight face. I glare at her.
“Come on, just pick my dress already. I know that you’ve got one lined up,” I tease. My cousin tosses her ringlets and scans the gowns with her eyes thoughtfully. Rain chews on a fingernail as she looks at a purple bride’s maid dress. The girls can pick their own dresses, as long as they are purple.
“Rain, that’s not wedding material,” Carmen says. Rain studies the purple short halter dress and actually considers wearing it. Well, she does until I glare at her. That isn’t appropriate church attire.
“Oh, come on, Chelsea. It’s sexy,” she whines.
“You’re going to church,” Grace argues, rolling her eyes. I grin at their easy banter. My two best friends get along.
“What about this one?” Carmen asks as she points at a dress to my left. I follow her finger to an off white spaghetti strapped dress with a beaded bodice and a sweetheart neckline. The train is about a foot long. I’m in love. And it’s actually church appropriate.
“Beautiful,” Rain says, her eyes widening. Grace goes and gets the other members of my bridal party. They are looking at more sensible clothing. Eli is the first to approach. She looks the dress up and down then nods her approval.
“It looks about your size. You may not even need a fitting.” I sure hope not. The crew at Mary Masson are busy. If I had to get the dress tailored, then I would have to find someone else. And I don’t want to do that.
“Chelsea, what do you think about this dress?” Tia asks. Goodness! Tia is clutching a dark purple ball gown. In fact, I think it is a corsage. Geez.
“Tia, that’s a little much,” Rain says unkindly. The young mother stares at the dress, as if considering something. Her blue eyes fill with sadness.
“I hope I get married someday. If I do, I want to wear purple.” She walks away without a backwards glance. I feel hollow inside. Tia is going to have a rough life. Her parents are murderers, and she’s a young mother. I’m worried that the wrong person will take advantage of her. Rain sighs.
“Chelsea, she’ll be fine! Everything will work out for Tia. Give it some time.” She always knows what to say. Carmen frowns, trying to consider the merits of what Rain is saying. I want to tell my cousin to shut up. I don’t want to deal with any hard truths. I want to go shopping for my dress. The dress is within reach, and it’s in my size. I’ll try it on, buy some matching baby heals, and call it a day.
In the end, Carmen goes into the posh dressing room with me. The room i
s as big as a lecture hall. It has three leather couches, a blue curtain that covers most of the walls, and a water station. Everyone else needs to find their dresses. Apparently, someone really important has scheduled a private fitting. So all of us need to be cleared out. Carmen has already picked a dress and was happy to note that this particular gown is in everyone’s sizes. That’s the closest that it came to a direct hint. I’m sure as soon as we leave this dressing room, she’ll insist that they all choose the dress. I feel awful that everyone won’t get to choose. But we only have forty-five more minutes. Then, it will be time to clear out. Carmen helps me slip into the gown, and she zips me up. When I see myself in the mirror, an unexpected tear falls down my cheek. This is really happening! I’m getting married! Nothing is going to stand in the way of this happy occasion! Everything will be fine. The attendant opens the door and brings me three veils to choose from. I choose an off white veil with pearls dangling from the ends. It matches the dress beautifully. The woman smiles and assures me that the dress will be delivered to the mansion on June 25, the day before the wedding. After she leaves, Carmen gives me a wink and leaves the room. She’s going to “convince” everyone to wear the purple dress. At this point, it doesn’t matter to me. I just want to see my groom. What is Peter doing right now? Since it’s so late in the game, we went with the cake that the former bride and groom chose. It tastes great, and the design looks pretty. So I didn’t rock the boat. The food is going to be simple but tasty. The DJ will play top forty music. This will all work out. It has to. There is a gentle knock on the door.
“Come in,” I say, forgetting to ask who it is. The door opens and a man in drag waltzes in. He looks horrible. He has a long black wig, a hairy face that is covered with layers of makeup in a shade too dark for him. He smells like he took a bath in Glow perfume. He’s wearing a poofy ball gown that reaches his thick calves. Let’s not forget what’s on his feet. Oh no, he’s wearing thin high-heeled pink pumps. He walks as if he’ll fall over in two seconds.
“I’m sorry, this dressing room is taken,” I say, keeping a straight face. The poor guy, or, do I call him a girl. What is the politically correct name for someone like him? Does he have a fetish or is he considered a woman? In any case, he smiles, and coffee stained teeth are revealed. Yuck! His teeth are the reason I don’t drink a cup of Joe every morning. That and I just can’t stand the taste.
“I know,” the man says and I have a very bad feeling about this. He immediately pulls a camera out of his bra and starts snapping pictures of me. I cover my face and press up against the wall. Then, I remember that I’m being photographed in a bridal shop. I lash out and kick the man in the ankle. He winces but continues to shoot.
“Attendant,” I shout, but no one comes. “Attendant.” The man stops shooting long enough to crack a smile at me.
“Chelsea, I paid the woman to get in here. I got my picture of the poor pathetic woman that’s been kidnapped. You look well,” he comments slyly.
“Go to hell!” I snap, the guy starts chuckling.
“Bob told me you were a brat. So tell me, Chelsea, did you really get kidnapped? Maybe you faked it so that Adam Smith would get away. In any case, how convenient is it? You escape and they find Adam dead and your brother’s ex-girlfriend wounded. And what about the other guy?”
“I was kidnapped by some freak who thought that…” I pause remembering that Detective Green specifically told me not to talk about this case. And who is this Jack-hole to me? I've never seen him before. And he won’t believe me. But still, Bob sent him. I don’t think that Grandmother would believe me. My iPhone is in my purse. Can I record him? The man in drag must be a mind reader because he leaves the changing room as if he’s on fire.
Moments later, the attendant that had taken away my wedding dress comes in. Her stony face is business like. I glare at her, and she’s suddenly eager to please.
“What’s wrong?” she quickly asks.
“That drag queen came in here and started taking pictures of me.” I’m so outraged and apparently, so is she. She runs out of the room, and moments later, someone is shouting.
“Hey, you in the lavender dress, stop!” the woman shrieks. I put the strap of my newly bought coach purse over my shoulder and walk out of the changing room. Carmen is walking over to me with a “what the?” look. Judging by her expression, she’s gotten a look at the hideous guy.
“If he was going to pretend to be a drag queen, why didn’t he shave?” Eli asks me as she emerges from a dressing room. Her eyes are wide and confused.
“One of the attendants let him in so that he could take pictures of me,” I scowl.
“This means that the press isn’t far behind,” Carmen curses. I shrug and gesture for my two cousins to follow me. Maybe Carmen is right. We just need to choose one style of bride’s maid dress.
The drag queen has gone. I see the gown flopping out of sight just as the alarm bells start ringing. He apparently didn’t pay for what he, unfortunately, tried on. I feel bad for the attendant. She frantically runs after him. But I know that he won’t be caught. Bob sent the man to take photos of me. How could he? I’ furious.
“What’s wrong, Chelsea?” Grace asks as she places a gentle hand on my shoulder.
“Bob sent that creep. He told him where I would be,” I roar. Everyone jumps. I’m not angry often. But when I am, you should just run. He’s trying to ruin my big day, and I’m sorry if I’m being a bride villa. Something’s has to be done about this. I march over to the counter, and the cashier smiles sickly sweet at me. He thinks that I’m going to ask for a discount because of the disturbance. And judging by the barely contained annoyance in his eyes, he isn’t going to give it to me. That’s fine because I wasn’t going to ask for that.
“How may I help you Miss Philips?” he asks.
“Who was the attendant that entertained the drag queen? He told me that a friend of his helped him get all dressed up.” The guy doesn’t know what to make of that. But he doesn’t even get to answer because the front door explodes. I stare at it, in shock. Glass rains down everywhere, and I’m lucky that none of it hits me. I hear a tiny pop and something whistles by my head. I instinctively hit the ground, not knowing what’s going on.
“Chelsea, honey. I’m glad that you have prepared for our wedding,” Will says, and I feel sick inside.