Save The Date

by K. S. Thomas

  She snorted. A serious contrast to all the delicate giggling she’d been doing. “No, I guess not. I just…you can do that?”

  “I can do that.” I nodded slowly, not sure where the hang up was with the whole thing. After all, this was what I did for a living. It was this precise skill that had landed me on a plane here in the first place.

  “I don’t know. I guess I just thought you came up with the design and then…outsourced it.”

  “I do, back home. I’ve got a small team I work with. But, that doesn’t mean I don’t do any of the sewing. I did go to school to learn how if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  Savannah shook her head, clearly concerned that she had offended me. “Oh, hun, I’m not worried about a thing! Now, let’s get these measurements out of the way so we can go shopping!”

  Thirty minutes later I was strapped in the front seat of Savannah’s Jag holding on for dear life as she zoomed through the streets.

  Although the fabric stores weren’t quite what I was accustomed to, we still managed to find just about everything we needed. The rest I’d have my mother bring when she came into town the following day.

  “Now then. Since we’ve got my dress all figured out. What are your thoughts on the bridesmaids?”

  I stared at her with eyes so wide she probably thought they were about to pop straight from their sockets. “What do you mean, what are my thoughts on the bridesmaids? Are you telling me they don’t have dresses either?”

  Savannah laughed, not at all fazed by my sudden panic attack. She reached out and placed her hand on my arm in what I suppose people around there thought was a kind gesture, but what people from where I was from considered to be an invitation to being bitch slapped. “No sugar, of course they have dresses.”

  I sighed, relieved. Too soon.

  “But those were intended to go with my former gown. I’m afraid they aren’t at all suitable now.”

  “Savannah! I’m good, but I’m no fucking miracle worker.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay. Just get me a list of your best bridal boutiques and I will get us in to look at some stuff. If I need to add some customized touches, I will. But you have to make sure you get all of your bridesmaids there when I say so. Got it?”

  She nodded gleefully.

  Then I remembered the one thing that hadn’t come up yet. “How many bridesmaids are we talking anyway?”

  I watched as Savannah’s head shrunk down into her shoulders as she squeaked, “Eleven.”

  “I’m sorry, what now?” I was absolutely convinced that she was fucking with me. After all, who would have eleven bridesmaids? Who even had that many girlfriends? I could hardly string together three. And I had to count Stephanie, my assistant, to do even that.

  “There are eleven bridesmaids. With me, that makes an even dozen. If it makes you feel any better, I had thirteen but decided to let two of them go when I found out they were both sleeping with the same groomsman.”

  “You run a tight ship.” Sarcasm was the only weapon I had to utilize at this point. Savannah, however, took me completely seriously.

  “Oh, well, I had to. His wife is one of my bridesmaids as well and it would have been one big mess trying to get all three of ‘em down the aisle without a big catfight breaking out.”

  “Yeah.” My eyes were threatening to escape their sockets again as I slowly nodded my head in disbelief. This was going to be one hell of a wedding.

  By the time Savannah dropped me back at Ashcraft Farms, it was way past dinner. In our haste to get everything purchased before the stores began closing, we hadn’t even thought about food. Now, as I was wandering through the quiet house peering into the dimly lit rooms with no signs of life other than the quiet hum of a television stemming from one of the upstairs bedrooms, I was doing more than just thinking about food. I was fantasizing about it. Willing it into reality and into my mouth by any means necessary.

  With Pattie absent, I quietly made my way toward the kitchen. I came to a dead stop the second I stepped inside. There, in the light of the open fridge, stood none other than Emerson.

  “What are you still doing here? I thought you lived up the road.” It came out about as snotty as I had intended it to.

  Startled, he turned around. Then, when he realized it was just me, he broke into a broad grin. “Haven’t had time to go grocery shopping in a while. Besides, when I came through here earlier I could smell Pattie’s famous barbeque ribs. Been craving some ever since.”

  He placed a large glass pan covered in aluminum foil onto the counter. “You want some? What am I saying? Of course you want some. You just spent the afternoon shopping with Savannah. You’re bound to be starving.” He laughed as he opened the top cupboard to fetch some plates.

  Suddenly my appetite was gone. “Why? Does shopping with her make you hungry?”

  He paused for a moment, a funny expression on his face. Then he set the plates down beside the ribs and prepared himself a heaping serving. “I make it a point never to go shopping with Savannah.”

  I was surprised. For some reason I imagined Emerson saying yes to doing just about anything Savannah’s little heart desired. He’d certainly said yes to every silly thing mine had requested of him in the past. “Doesn’t that bother her?”

  He shrugged. “Why would it? She has plenty of shopping buddies around. I seriously doubt she needs to recruit me to be one of them.”

  What an ass. “Well, I’m sure she does things for you that she doesn’t enjoy.” Like dealing with your slut of a groomsman who can’t keep his married dick in his pants for example.

  Emerson had a mouth full of pork when he replied, “I wouldn’t know what.”

  Men were so freaking oblivious.

  “Whatever. I’m going to bed.”

  “Did I do something to piss you off?” His brow was knitted, showing his confusion over my attitude.

  How did I even answer that? Oh, right. With a lie. “It’s not you. I’m just tired.”

  Before he had a chance to say anything else, I hurried from the room, my gut twisting in hunger and anxiety as I went.

  Holy shit. Talk about blowing it in record time. I had obviously done something to upset her, didn’t matter that she denied it. Even I wasn’t that oblivious. Maybe Savannah would tell me. I just needed to find a casual way to ask her. If she thought for even a moment that I was interested in her cousin, I’d never hear the end of it.

  Chapter 6

  The following morning, I got ready in a hurry, eager to catch a ride to the airport with Noonie Skeeter to pick up my mother. Not that I was desperate to see her after only having been gone for twenty-four hours. It was more out of desperation not to see anyone else for a while. I had made enough of an ass of myself the night before in the kitchen with Emerson and I wasn’t looking for a repeat anytime soon.

  If I could just have some time to recollect my thoughts and over analyze my feelings, I was positive I could re-route my childhood crush in a new and healthier direction.

  The drive went by in a bit of a blur. After skipping dinner the night before, the thought of food had made me nauseous first thing in the morning. Instead, I had opted for a large cup of coffee. And then a second right after. And of course, a third for the road.

  Now that I was flying high as a kite on sugar and caffeine, I found myself in a state of delirium as I watched the scenery change outside of my window.

  “I noticed you and Emerson were spending time together yesterday.” The sound of Noonie’s voice ripped me right out of my happy place.

  “It was nothing. He was just showing me around since I hadn’t seen the place in a few years.” Well, ever, really.

  “That was nice of him.” Noonie looked like she had more to say, but she simply kept her eyes on the road ahead and her mouth shut.

  “Yeah, I guess it was.” I returned my focus on the view outside my window.

  Apparently, Noonie Skeeter reconsidered. “He’s a good boy, you know. Does a finer
job with our animals than anyone I’ve ever seen. Sometimes I wonder though if it’s at the expense of his people skills.”

  I snorted, remembering how clueless he’d been the night before in the kitchen. “There might be something to that theory, Noonie.”

  “Now you be nice to that boy, Calista. He’s got more kindness in his heart than he knows what to do with. Too many people have tried to scare it out of him already, don’t you be one of ‘em, too. He may not always show it the way you or I would, but he does it in his own way.”

  It was the first time I’d ever been scolded by her. Incidentally, I wasn’t entirely sure what I’d done to deserve it. She certainly had a soft spot for Emerson. Which I suppose made sense. My mother always said her horses were her greatest love, so if Emerson was doing right by them, he’d be doing right by her in every way that counted.

  “Noonie, I’m nice to everyone. Even socially stunted country boys.”

  She shot me a dirty look.

  “Alright, alright. I’ll be nice.”

  “Now that’s better. And just in time. We’re here.”

  A few minutes later and we were walking from the parking garage and into the main terminal. My mother’s flight had arrived early, so she was bound to be buzzing around somewhere, sipping one of her disgustingly healthy teas and filling up countless shopping bags with useless crap she’d find use for somewhere along the way.

  I was about to suggest we check in the nearest souvenir shop when a familiar smile caught my eye.

  “Stephanie? What are you doing here?”

  “Your mother sent me. Said you might be able to use a hand. There was something about a dozen bridesmaids?”

  “She knew?!” Unbelievable. Kind of made me wonder what else she had held out on.

  “I guess. She said not to worry about anything else. Everything is moving full speed ahead with the wedding plans and she can’t wait to get here and join in on all the fun.”

  I snorted. Fun was definitely an overstatement on her part. “And when exactly will that be?”

  “Um, in two or three days. A week, tops.” Steph was smiling at me uncomfortably. It was for nothing though. I wasn’t in the habit of shooting the messenger. It was a waste of bullets and I preferred to save mine for the real target.

  “I can’t believe she’s weaseling her way out of this!” I was amping up to have a proper rant when I realized Noonie Skeeter was standing beside me, silently waiting for the standard introduction. “I’m so sorry. Steph, this is my Grandmother. Noonie Skeeter meet my assistant Stephanie.”

  Steph extended her hand immediately. “So nice to meet you Mrs. Ashcraft.”

  “Oh, sugar, call me Skeeter. Everybody does.”

  “Alright then, Skeeter it is.”

  I watched as Steph’s face did a slight twitch at the sound of her own voice saying my grandmother’s name. You didn’t meet a whole lot of people named Skeeter up north. Hell, I wondered how many people still went by that name down south. My Noonie was certainly the only person I’d ever met who went by Skeeter. Of course, it suited her better than any name I could have come up with.

  “Now then, I see you already have all of your luggage,” Noonie Skeeter said pointing at the overflowing cart Steph was tugging along behind her. “No more reason to stay around here any longer than necessary. Besides, Pattie’s back at the house fixin’ pulled pork sandwiches for lunch as we speak. I don’t know about you two girls, but that’s about all the motivation I need to get back home.” She didn’t wait for either of us to answer. Just smiled that crazy crooked grin of hers and started walking. Steph and I had to hurry to catch up, both of us carting the trolley behind us like a pair of driving horses.

  “I take it most of this crap belongs to my mother?” I huffed from the strain.

  “She said they were important wedding supplies. She even sent one of those fancy collages for your cousin. Also, one of the bags is full of your crap.” Steph was smirking, in spite of her clear discomfort. How she had managed to cart this thing around on her own was beyond me. But it did explain the beads of sweat on her forehead and the unusual red tone in her cheeks when I’d first seen her.

  “Hey, I’m not the one who made you bring it. I fully expected my mother to be the pack mule lugging this load. What’s the real reason she bailed anyway?” I kept my voice down, just in case. Noonie Skeeter struck me as the type of woman who wasn’t about to let a little thing like age dull her senses. If anything, I suspected her hearing had improved over the years.

  Stephanie shrugged. “Not sure. To tell you the truth, I don’t know of any pressing matters back at the office that would keep her there. I even talked to Jack, her PA. He was just as surprised as I was that I was coming in her place.” We reached the front doors and stepped outside into the warm sunshine. “You know, I think he was a little peeved about the whole thing. He was supposed to be coming out here as well to help your mom.”

  I grimaced. “Well, if my mother ever makes it out here, I’m sure she’ll have him in tow. She doesn’t do much of anything without him these days. Sometimes when she calls me in the evenings, I picture him there at her place with her, pouring her wine and giving her a pedicure.”

  Stephanie and I both erupted in giggles and they were nothing like the cute kind Savannah engaged in.

  Much to my annoyance, the first thing we saw upon pulling into the long drive of Ashton Farms, was of course, Emerson. To make matters worse, he looked like he had jumped straight out of that Legends of the Fall movie as he rode by on his horse wearing a well fitted work shirt, and a severely worn and weathered cowboy hat which shadowed over an expression of cocky confidence with a troubled undertone à la Brad Pitt, minus the long hair.

  “Helllllllo,” Steph muttered to herself.

  I leaned in toward her. “He’s taken.”

  Noonie Skeeter had the distinct traits of a smile dancing on her lips, however it never fully formed and I wasn’t sure if she had heard us or not.

  Once inside the house, Noonie informed us that there was a second guest room just two doors up from the one I was staying in. So, four trips later, we were both sitting on the floor in Steph’s suite digging through all of the bags my mother had sent with her.

  “So, who’s the cowboy?” Stephanie was retrieving pile after pile of swatches from a satchel which Savannah was meant to search through at some point to choose a suitable color for her table linens.

  “The groom actually. His name is Emerson. He’s been a friend of the family’s forever. First time I met him I was just a kid. He had tagged along with my cousin to our family lake house.”

  I couldn’t tell if I was coming off as casual as I hoped or if I was clearly trying too hard and failing. It seemed like the proper amount of details, but really I was no good judge of anything just then.

  “That’s so romantic. So they were childhood sweethearts?”

  I shook my head. “Wrong cousin. He came along with Savannah’s older brother. According to her, Emerson only recently took an interest in her. Makes sense though. I mean, there’s about eight years between them.” Ten between us.

  Steph shrugged. “Still sweet.”

  “I guess. If you’re into that gag-me sort of sweetness.” I felt myself make a face and instantly regretted it. Way to act like a grown up.

  I could see Steph studying me out of the corner of my eye, but she dropped the topic all together and moved onto something else.

  “So, let’s see this dress you’ve been working on.” She was already up on her feet and headed for the door as if she knew exactly where she was going. I’d been in the house for almost two days now and I never walked three feet in any direction around here with that kind of confidence.

  “Um, there’s not much of a dress yet. Just a design and a few bags of fabric.” I was slowly catching up to her at the door.

  “What’s our sewing situation?”

  “You mean in terms of machines? Well, there’s my Noonie Skeeter’s old one, but
it’s from the early 1900’s so I don’t plan on using it,” I said dryly as I led the way to my room.

  “So we’re doing the whole job by hand?” I could tell I had scared her a little.

  “No. They didn’t have the one I wanted in stock when we went shopping yesterday, so they had to bring it down from another store. Should be there this evening. Savannah said she’d swing by there after work to grab it and bring it here so I can get started. But that’s only going to go so far…”

  Once inside, I went over to the desk beneath the window to retrieve the sketch. I handed it to Stephanie.

  “Beading?!” she shouted as she fell back into the chair behind her.

  As dresses went, Savannah’s beading was actually quite minimal. This had been intentional of course knowing that the dress had to be done in less than two weeks and that I would be the only one around to make that happen. Of course, even with that knowledge at the forefront of my mind, I had gotten slightly carried away during the design process and we would now have to suffer the consequences of my ambitions.

  “I’m sorry! I was having a creative moment. Besides, I was planning on doing it all myself anyway, so don’t even worry about it. You can work on the other stuff using the machine. I swear.”

  Stephanie twisted her mouth at me, still visibly dissatisfied with my poor judgment. “Well, it is a really pretty dress.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So, I guess we should get started cutting the fabric and pinning the dress together?”

  I nodded. “Just as soon as we find a place to do that.”

  For the amount of material involved, we were going to need a very large work surface. The only place that came to mind was sitting in the formal dining room downstairs.

  “We can try the big dinner table in the front hall.”

  “No time like the present.” She jumped to her feet and went to start piling up the bags of material and supplies. “Let’s do this.” She looked like a woman on a mission. In all reality I had had no fucking clue how we were going to pull this off, but seeing her and the determination on her face was enough to make me think we could somehow manage to produce a fab wedding dress even without the proper set up or a reasonable amount of time to do it in. Even if we had to pull it out of our asses. This dress was going down.